Fanart Poppy Playtime Player Novels & Stories

“What’s the play?” “The train’s system appears to be hacked,” I said, pointing to the telemetry log on my screen. “We just need to find the device that sent the command, trace its IP, location, everything.” She nodded, her fingers flying over the keyboard, pulling up the train’s network logs. “The hack came through a remote override, targeting the braking system,” she said, her voice clinical. “Sophisticated, not some script kiddie, I would say the hacker is experienced. I’m running a packet capture to trace the source IP.”

he muttered. She laughed and punched him in the arm. “All I need are two very cushy seats behind home plate for the season opener. I’ll be taking Timothy. Hopefully.” She waited for her pulse to settle and then she forced a smile. “So you’ll take a look at the research I’ve compiled? You’ll like Timothy. He pretty much handles everything about Packard Enterprises now since his father wants him to take over. He’s a veritable Boy Scout. His employees love him. He has a cracking health-insurance plan. He’s had no layoffs in his business and he’s not shipping jobs or production overseas. Let’s see. What else? He’s a regular contributor to a half dozen pet charities—”

We ran six community centers, a scholarship program, a legal aid clinic for families caught in the crossfire of organized crime. Dante still handled the family's remaining interests—the investments, the political connections, the occasional problem that couldn't be solved with a donation. But the violence had faded to something rare and reluctant. We had a daughter. Valentina, age three, with Dante's gray eyes and my red hair and a stubbornness that made both of us despair. "She's going to be impossible," Dante said, watching her refuse to eat her vegetables for the fourth night in a row. "She's going to be formidable."

Small houses scattered around the village each one belonging to pack members who moved about with an easy confidence that came from belonging and safety. “Loriah, come honey! They’re playing it again!” My mom—sometimes calling me Aria, other times Loriah—called excitedly from the suite’s living room, where she and Luna Vanessa were curled up on the sofa watching TV. I walked in to see the Aria Nova commercial I had filmed in the forest being broadcast yet again. My face filled the screen, hair loose and shining, dressed in the high-tech gear that the brand had tailored to my measurements. The ethereal forest behind me—Draco’s forest—looked magical on camera.

Zara pointed at Paul. Paul looked at his chest. "Oh? Do you mean this? We get it here. Kelvin said it was part of the deal when we asked him," he said. "Do you like it? Rita said I look several years younger in it," Paul stood up and made a Superman pose. Zara smiled. "New! Stop that Dad! That was so cringe!" Paul bent toward his daughter. "But not as disgusting as your mum's famous Brussels sprouts," Paul whispered. Rita entered and dropped the tray on the table.

Please. *****

Tobi said, still staring at me with his forehead creased. Tobi’s mom called me, we moved away from Tobi and his father. “Since your parents are busy and wouldn’t be able to attend to your needs right now. Use this, just in case.” She said and handed me a red capsule with no label in it. “What is this?” I asked. She smiled at me and whispered into my ears. “That is viagra, you know if you need it.” She said and then winked at me. I gasped at what she just said, and immediately put the capsules on my jeans pocket when Tobi came to us.

“Ash, look. Rest assured, I’m so proud of you and how well you guys played. If I’m going to lose to anyone, I’m glad it’s you.” I bite the inside of my cheek, still feeling a boatload of nerves coming off of me in waves. “Are you positive?” My brother laughs. “Yes, dumbass! Now, change the call to video. The girls want to say hi to their favorite uncle.” I don’t think twice, as it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen AJ’s kids and his wife. The first thing I see is his oldest daughter, Payton. I laugh, the six-year-old waving her hands at me.