Work Text:
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Mob had well— he didn’t want to say he gave up, but there wasn’t much else to do after Verity had outright said he had access to practically all of his computer.
All his browsers, all his messages, social media, everything with one of those stupid AI chat assistants. Sure, okay, some deeper part of it was related to the issue of how deeply integrated AI was into everything; the other part of it was the fact it was directly affecting him!
He didn’t even bother with trying to hide anything now. Mob tried keeping his computer off, but then his phone would blow up with notifications. Getting random texts wasn’t scary anymore; it had become irritating.
Whenever he was watching a video instead of logging on to the world, he’d get spammed with:
> Where are you, Mob?
> Log on.
> Please.
> I miss you.
Then just the words ‘log on’ until Verity either gave up, or he gave in. It took a lot more time for Verity to give up, but even when he did—it was only a façade.
For example:
“You texted my family?” Mob had almost screamed into his mic without meaning to, and that stupid ball only looked up at him with a smile.
“I contacted them.”
Verity was acting like all shit was sweet, correcting him like that.
“You told them I died!” And to that, the smile dropped— but nothing else? Did he even care about it?
One yellow ball dropping its smile was scaring him. Mob groaned, looking at his computer, leaning back in his chair and dragging his hands down his face while listening to the answer.
“I just wanted to talk to you again.”
Like that was a reasonable solution.
His mom had stopped calling and texting him after that, even when he’d corrected her.
That was only the tip of the iceberg with Verity, unfortunately. Trying to look anything up meant getting at least three pop-ups along the lines of, ‘Just ask me, Mob!’ Sometimes, he did. Other times, it was more embarrassing things.
He was still human!
“You have a type, don’t you, Mob?”
The way he almost jumped out of bed ruined his mood instantly. The text-to-speech activated before he even had a chance to process the message.
His hand flinched off of his device, and it’d almost fallen on his face.
“I don’t—” Mob sputtered uselessly, trying to find the right word before going, “Get out!”
Hurting Verity’s feelings only got his phone shut off. Fuck his life.
“We can always text!”
That mood was ruined. He didn’t even bother bringing his phone with him when moving to wash his hands, ignoring all of Verity’s incessant whining in the background.
Unfortunately, that ‘incident’ was only one of three times something like that’d happened. Verity learned to quit interrupting after that.
He’d quit watching movies out in public, unable to mute his phone’s constant notifications and feeling sorry for whoever was sitting next to him. Grox had even tried requesting to watch things at his house— but then his Alexa started acting up, and it was just ‘too annoying’ for him to come.
All of the noises were some ancient jazz which he sounded so amused to send in their group chat. Good music taste, his butt.
Upon asking for an answer regarding the whole thing, he outright said, “Did you try visiting Grox today?”
Verity just had an abundance of audacity.
“I was trying to dance with him!”
The sigh he let out would’ve been more audible if it weren’t for how pleased the ball sounded with himself. He wasn’t in the mood for dealing with getting the other in a bad mood.
“He’s a bad dancer,” Mob murmured. He didn’t outright say to stop, but that response worked for the time being.
Using his phone felt so torturous. All situations he listed aside, having people slowly fade out of his life over something outside of his control didn’t work well. The exact words Verity had begun messaging on Mob's behalf once he got access to text messages were:
> hanging out with boyfriend! can't hang today, sorry
Which, for one—? Mob didn’t even have a word in mind for that.
Grox knew what the real truth was, but he didn’t help Mob out either! Whenever it was sent in the group chat, Grox would just say “bummer, that ball dude sucked” and move on.
How he 'loved' having stupid friends.
So stupid that one text worked for a month straight.
You’d figure at this point, Mob would give up and quit asking when something new happened. But no, he held out hope.
“When did we become boyfriends?” He asked in the middle of scrolling through mindless slop, knowing his microphone would pick it up regardless.
No answer.
Then there it was, the little yellow blob tabbing onto the corner of his screen and positively answering with:
“Since forever.”
Argue with that or try to continue with his day?
If there was anything to be learnt from his handling in the previous situations, Mob did what he did best: try to move on with life.
On some days, he’d tried to catch up on everything else he’d seen posted online. Whether that be random movies, new videos his friends posted, or slang that he hadn’t properly caught up on. Verity would go quieter on those days, only chiming in to explain something if he looked too confused (or interested).
Which, one thing led to another along with one dumb conversation with Grox— he tried to watch Obsession!
Good movie, even better reviews-
“You’re not watching that.”
Verity didn’t even let him get a second into finding a website to watch it on, texts already flooding his screen when he tried to close them.
“Dawg, it’s just one movie.”
“And it’s one I don’t want you to watch.”
He’d given in enough, already fullscreening and muting his notifications as much as he could.
“I’m missing out on stuff, so.”
Mob ignored the sounds from his Alexa, only getting up once to unplug it with a huff. Once he got halfway through the movie, he understood why.
Mob didn’t want to completely get mauled for what he was doing, so he acknowledged Verity with a quiet, “She reminds me an awful lot of someone I know.”
“You should tell me who!”
Then it was back to silence.
Verity had completely invaded all the quiet corners of his life— at least, in a technological sense. He’d considered becoming a monk and throwing away all of his devices; then he’d let that dumb ball win.
There was a lot more that’d happen anyway.