There Comes A Time...

OOC - Warning! This post is rather long. But I hope you like the
content.
Rpg:
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Who: Trisees.
When: Three days after the blimp construction.
Where: Supply Field B
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Lawrence Trisees wiped his sweat-coated brow and looked over at the
clock resting on his new desk. Trisees had been living in his
new 'apartment' for the last day and a half now. He could hear
various scrapes and scratches as the crew worked at lifting and
floating the ship. He had almost left Supply Field B at one point to
either help, or tell them to shut up, but his new apartment had taken
priority.
Trisees had spent the rest of the day that he'd created the blimps,
gathering the materials and tools needed to create a full scale
working apartment on the index corner of Supply Field B.
The index corner's of the supply fields were computer terminals
that had the entire listing and layout of that particular field, as
well as full access to the public systems of the rest of the Blue
Dwarf. Trisees had built the two-storey apartment around the
terminal; it now acting like a personal computer in the room he'd
designated a study. He had used the terminal to locate everything
he'd ever need for a house and had taken two and a half days to
create one.
He'd even hung a small plaque over the front door. It read:
"Rome wasn't built in a day, but then they didn't have me working
for them."
To say Trisees wasn't proud of his apartment was a huge
understatement. It had a furnished bedroom, a bathroom, the study, a
kitchen, and his favourite room of the house: The Playroom. The
playroom took up ALL of the lower floor, and was connected to the
supply field area, whilst the top floor had all the living room's and
was connected to the large gangway that connected to the X-press
lift. It had only taken him 60 hours to put the whole liveable thing
together.
Trisees stared at the clock again and blinked his eyes. It was
only just three o'clock in the afternoon, and he felt the need to do
some fixing, or tinkering, or creating. He decided to go and see
what he could find that was of interest on the terminal. Five miles
of supplies was a lifetime's worth of examining, and he was in a
storage level seven area. Important materials, objects, little food
area, but enough to sustain Trisees for a while. He was in his own
personal heaven.
Trisees sat down at the swivel chair he'd pilfered from the office
section, and logged quickly into the Supply Field's mainframe. He
brought up the 'ident' option and quickly typed in the word "Relic"
for a change, to see what it'd bring up for him.
He was mildly shocked when a single instruction appeared in the
screen: 'Aisle 7 - Row 68.' Intrigued, Trisees stood up, slipped on
some shoes and moved over to the lift. He readied himself a map of
the area, and looked down the aisle. The far end was invisible, just
plain black. He stopped the lift and stumbled off the grating onto
the cool floor of the supply field. There was something about the
atmosphere today. As though something important were to happen, but
he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He nonchalantly strolled along the aisle, occasionally granting a
small look to each row as he passed, but he was more concerned with
what he might find on row 68. What kind of relics would there be?
What did the JMC classify as a relic? What goodies might he be able
to sell to some GELF civilisation the crew might stumble across?
He walked for another half hour before reaching row 68, designated
as 'Relics.' This supply field was very intriguing to Trisees. He'd
wanted to explore very last nook and cranny of the field, but that
could take him forever.
Trisees brow furrowed as his eyes travelled across the items that
were lined up for his perusal.
"This can't be right," said Trisees. In front of him, hung upon a
nail, was what looked like the Turin Shroud. And next to it, in a
glass case, was what appeared to be a Koran
Trisees shook his head, laughter reaching out from the back of his
throat and filling the deathly quiet air of the supply field. He'd
reached the pinnacle of all the items he'd seen so far. A wooden
box, with two large blackened symbols of either side stood in it's
own cubby, with a large sign post in front of it reading: The Ark Of
The Covenant - Danger, Do Not Look At Ark If Open.
Trisees' eyes continued to move over unbelievable item after
unbelievable item. It seemed that the JMC had systematically trawled
through all the religious texts and stored every single holy artefact
ever worshipped in one room.
Trisees eye caught something bizarre, well more bizarre than what
he'd already seen. Compared with the rest of the ensemble, it was
more out of place than he was on the ship.
"What is up with the loons in control of the JMC?" he asked the
air, picking it up from the shelf in front of him. It was a
videocassette from the 20th century. A perfectly preserved copy of
the horror film: The Fly starring one of Earth's renowned actors,
Jeff Goldblum.
"They stick a feature film in the same category as a big box that
holds the remnants of the 10 Commandments?" he asked, commenting once
more on the bizarreness of the situation.
Trisees pocketed the video, and set about looking for more
interesting trinkets he could scavenge, like other videos, books or
even statues. Religious artefacts, however priceless, just weren't
his scene.
Trisees entered his makeshift abode a mere four hours later. He
was carrying a few things he'd deemed interesting and was now storing
them in his own cupboard for a rainy day, or indeed, leaky ship.
He was about to put the video away, when some voice at the back of
his mind said: Watch the film. Now!
Unsure as to why a conscience would possibly want him to see a
horror film ages old, Trisees complied anyway. He slotted the
ancient VHS cassette and slumped backwards into a large, comfy chair
he'd found in the luxury section. The film began, and Trisees became
engrossed from the very first few words spoken by Jeff Goldblum. His
mind stuck in absorption mode, intangible beginnings of ideas were
starting to form concrete thoughts and he wasn't going to ignore the
main one bouncing around his cranium. Teleportation.
-Approx. 2 hours later-
Trisees sat stock still in his chair, the film having finished a
few moments ago, Trisees was motionless. His mind invention centre,
the biggest part of his active brain was currently in hyperdrive
flicking through possibility after possibility of fantastical
creations based on what he'd just seen. His mind was a whirl of
thoughts, a hurricane of sounds. He was problem solving again. The
film had unlocked the mental door that was holding back all the ideas
he held.
"Possible...solution." he stammered, his eyes buzzing left and
right as his mind conjured up various images. "So clear to me now!
How could I have been so stupid?" he said. Trisees got to his feet
and began laughing. Not a laugh of madness, but rather a laugh of
joy. One with genuine meaning behind it, as if he were about to do
something wonderful.
"I can do it! I *can* do it!" he shouted. "Nothing will stand in
my way!"
Trisees sped back out the apartment and leapt over the rail of the
gangway, landing with a large thump on the smooth ground below in a
crouched ready position. He looked up, and snatched the pre-printed
map from the resting-place of the floor. Then, as if speedy Gonzales
on large amounts of speed, he began to rush back and forth along the
various aisles, dipping into rows of materials and taking whatever
caught his eyes that he thought could be useful.
After a random amount of time running back and forth, Trisees
disappeared back into the apartment and pulled out a large
construction kit from the lower levels and dropped it down on the
floor in front of his altered lift. Then, pressing a concealed
button on one side of the lower lift controls, the wall of the lower
level began to fold on itself and expose the whole area of the
playroom to Trisees, until it had finally disappeared, and the entire
contents of the playroom were accessible to anyone on the lover level.
Trisees rolled up his sleeves, wiped his brow, checked that the
ship alarm system was functioning in case of any hassles out there,
or indeed in here, made positive the drink was plentiful, and then
got to work creating the solution to end all solutions.
18 hours of solid, back breaking labour later and Trisees let out a
large growl of exhaustion, shattering the calm quiet of the supply
field. Caressing the top of his head and wiping large amounts of
sweat from his forehead and eyes, he casually flicked a switch on a
small rectangular block of metal and waited as a tiny monitor screen
set into another small rectangular box shuddered into life.
Chunky bright green text appeared in big bold letters on the dingy
dusty screen.
WELCOME LAWRENCE - BETASHIFT PROGRAM IS OPERATIONAL
It glared out at him in the relatively poor lit supply field.
"Step one complete. The program is operational, but what is a
program without its tools?"
He looked over at the set-up that had taken him nearly a day of
constant welding and tinkering to put together. In a large clearing
stood three eight feet tall glass and metal cylinders. A large black
one stood next to the monitor and keyboard layout and from it a wire
trailed out wards, before splitting into two and connecting to two
identical cylinders. These cylinders were a yellowish colour and
seemed, in an inanimate way, to be more evil than the first. He
moved his fingers once more over the makeshift keyboard, and the
chunky green text changed.
BOOTH1..........FUNCTIONAL.
BOOTH2..........FUNCTIONAL.
BOOTH3..........FUNCTIONAL.
Trisees smile was illuminated by the green glow of the bold text,
and he typed one final command
CONNECTION DISSIMILATION WIRES.............FUNCTIONAL.
There was a very audible sigh of relief from Trisees and he wiped
cheek, unknowingly spreading a ton of grease around his usually clean
features.
"I am a genius," he said in a deadly calm voice. The dull humming
of the booths was all the confirmation he needed. Trisees threw down
a blackened towel to one side, and wiped his hands along his
overalls, the black grease now covering almost all of his body. He
had three things left to get, and then the fireworks would begin.
Trisees smiled evilly, and rubbed his hands together.
"This will teach the crew not to mess with Lawrence Trisees."
Trisees snuck down the corridor, looking left and right and making
sure that no one important had spotted him on the upper decks. He
was currently on floor 325, medical technology division, and next to
a room known by the locals as 'Mad Scientists Haven.' Trisees was
not mad, but he was a scientist, and it did seem as though someone
with the right motivation could spend their lifetime playing god.
The room was actually nothing more than two large rows of filing
cabinets; each with month label's imprinted on their sides. Trisees
knew exactly what he was here for, and walked purposefully over to
the cabinet marked June, and swung it open. A tray packed with dirty
brown folders greeted him, and Trisees began flicking along them.
After about thirty folders, he stopped suddenly, and extracted a
cleaner looking folder than all the rest. He read the front page,
his eyes occasionally widening, and then opened the folder itself.
Inside was a small box, the size of an average metal pencil case, and
the word "Important" was written over it's covering.
Trisees flipped it high into the air and caught it deftly behind
his back, before stuffing the folder back into the cabinet and
slamming the cabinet tray shut.
He dropped the rectangle into his breast pocket, and tip toed back
to the door, opening it a crack and peering left and right into the
long corridor. He saw a few people walking towards the promenade, and
slipped out into the corridor behind them. When he was satisfied
that no one had seen him coming out of the 'Haven' he walked over to
one of Holly's viewscreens.
"Holly," he spoke, still keeping a watch out for others.
"Yes, Trisees," asked Holly in the dull monotonous voice he always
used.
"Send a message to Dr Keto, and Hazel Coffey. Have them come down
to Supply Field B as soon as possible. Something important is about
to happen, and it concerns them both."
"Fine, Trisees."
"And Holly, don't tell anyone else."
"I won't, Lars."
Trisees took a step and stopped. He thought about saying
something, but decided against it, and stalked back towards the x-
press lift.
The x-press lift doors opened and a rather wary Hazel Coffey, and a
nonplussed Charles Keto stepped through them and onto the gangway of
Supply Field B.
"Why on earth do you think Trisees called us down here?" asked
Coffey, slightly worried. She gingerly stepped forward, a pace
behind Keto. Coffey's eyes were trying to get used to the light, but
someone had turned the ambience levels down to nearly minimum.
"The man's a brilliant scientist. He probably has his reasons,"
stated Keto, looking around intently for some sign of life.
Coffey stopped walking and took hold of the gangway rail and peered
over it. Her eyes disbanded the gloom and she was taken aback by the
sight below. Coffey's tapped Keto's shoulder and he angrily swiped
her hand away.
"What is it woman?" he asked, turning around to see what she was
pointing at.
Keto's mouth dropped open as he saw the three booths glowing bright
neon colours, and what looked like a completely naked man standing
with his back to them next to the furthest away booth.
Coffey and Keto stood still, unsure what to do. They were startled
when what sounded like Trisees voice seemed to waft up towards their
eras.
"Welcome Hazel, Charles. If you would be so good as to take the
lift down here, all will be revealed."
Shrugging at each other, Keto and Coffey moved over to the
gangway's lift, which began to move downwards as soon as they stepped
on it. It came to a rest after a few seconds, and brought the two
medical officers level with the floor containing the three booths.
About eight feet in front of them, and now next to the first booth
stood Trisees. Both Coffey and Keto could now see that he was
totally naked and had his back to them. He seemed to be inputting
things onto a rather bizarre computer. There were seven beeps and
the booth next to the computer opened with a whoosh, letting steam
spew out of it.
Trisees turned around and looked at Keto and Coffey, an icy cold
glare present in his eyes.
"Trisees?" asked Coffey. "You okay? You don't look it."
"Hazel, I'm perfectly fine."
"Why are we here, Lawrence? What's the meaning of this?"
Trisees was silent for a second, and he looked down at the floor.
"This is my moment," he said, looking back up at the
pair. "Tonight, I prove my worth."
"What do you mean?" asked Coffey.
Trisees laughed and began walking around the three booths.
"Consider science! Consider fiction! The two together can lead
onto us developing new technology, in a want of a better future.
With sci-fi stories, people can submerse themselves in perfectly
feasible fantastical realities.
"What if the fantasy could become the reality?" he asked.
Coffey and Keto stood still, unsure as to what Trisees was driving
at. It seemed as if the scientist had flipped.
"Reality is under *our* control! We take what we see and then
create the reality. Which is what I have done."
Trisees breathed in and folded his arms. He smiled and began
speaking again.
"Brundlefly had a plan. Merge himself with a human to create a far
more human fly. I, Trisees, have a plan. Brundlefly wanted to merge
two to become one. I will create two FROM one!
"With this set up I will enter, and then two independant bodies
will leave!"
"A clone?" piped up Coffey. Trisees spun around and pointed at
Coffey.
"NO! Not a clone! I Trisees will enter Pod 1! And then I Trisees
will leave from Pod 2! However from Pod 3, there will be no
Trisees. There will be SHAKESPEARE!"
As if on cue from a movie script, Keto and Coffey's expressions
switched from uncertainty to shock in unison. Trisees laughed out
loud.
"TONIGHT I WILL BRING BACK YOUR SURGEON!" he shouted, raising his
arms to the air.
"Lawrence, how does this work?" asked Keto, suddenly fearing for
his friend.
"Charles, the questions will come later! For now, I must do this.
I will show this crew that I am the most intelligent scientist on the
ship."
Trisees turned back to the keyboard and tapped in 'start
sequence.' The audible humming got louder until it became a loud
crack and then a constant fizzing noise. Keto and Coffey were
captivated by the sight and were rooted to the spot by the visual of
Trisees setting up the booths. Trisees picked up the small rectangle
box with Important scrawled on it's front and slotted it into a
holder next to the monitor.
The garish green text flashed up the word: ACCEPTED and a large
beep sounded.
"My friends, the time has arrived. I shall see you in twenty five
seconds," said Trisees, saluting the two medics.
He stepped into the first booth and looked at the ground as the
door ominously closed on front of him. A whirring noise started up,
slowly at first, but it then grew louder and faster, until it
registered in the ears as a constant screech. Coffey and Keto
clasped their hands over their ears and watched as the first booth
flashed bright red for a second and Trisees body vanished.
There was silence.
The booth's continued to glow, but no whirring or humming could be
heard.
"Did we just see Trisees commit suicide?" asked Coffey, hoping to
god that something would happen.
"This does not bode well," said Keto, acknowledging Coffey's fears.
Their worries were cut short by a loud explosive type noise
followed by Booth's 2 and 3 flashing bright blue.
The doors to Booth 2 and 3 flew open and Lawrence Trisees fell out
of the second pod onto the floor coughing and wheezing.
"Success!" he said, phlegm rising up his throat. He slowly crawled
forward to one of the row's shelves and propped himself up against
it. Trisees body was bleeding in many various places and he had
acquired some slices and gashes in various places. Keto cursed and
ran over to the scientist with his medi-kit, and began patching him
up, much to Trisees annoyance.
Coffey's eyes were fixed on Booth 3, which so far had seen nothing
emerge from it.
"Did it work? I wouldn't be here if it hadn't," said Trisees, but
he was growing increasingly irritated by the lack of
Shakespeare. "WHY HASN'T IT WORKED?!" he exploded, flailing his arms
and knocking Keto to one side. He stood up and stumbled over to
Booth 3, walking to just in front of the entrance and peered through
the mist. He waved away the mist and the outline of the figure of
William Shakespeare came into view.
"Forsooth," the figure said, his eyes wide and a large set of burn
marks over his body, before falling forward into the hands of
Trisees. Trisees grabbed his nemesis as he fell limp and lowered him
safely to the ground. Resting the battered playwright on the cold
hard floor. Shakespeare too was wheezing and having severe trouble
breathing.
"Charles, get over here, this man needs attention!" said Trisees
loudly. Coffey and Keto bounded over to the two almost identical men
and knelt down. Keto immediately treating the marks over
Shakespeare's body with gauze, matting and antiseptic, as well as
injecting various chemicals into his body.
Coffey took hold of Shakespeare's hand rubbed it gently, causing
Shakespeare's eyes to open slightly.
"Hazel, ist that thou face I see afore mine eyes?" he asked, his
eyes bloodshot red.
Coffey began crying, her body filled with emotions of both elation
and sadness.
"William, it's so good to have you back," she said, kissing the
back of his hand lightly.
"Its't goode to be'th backst," replied Shakespeare.
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