An Alliance is Formed and Broken....

RPG:
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Who: Wildlfower, Chrysler, Happy Larry.
Where: That comnn thingy.
When: Can't be naffed.
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"Smiling boy?" asked Wildflower angrily. "Can't you ever be nice
to anyone, Chrysler?"
"Now, now Miss Wildflower, Mr Chrysler, there's no need to get into
an argument," said Trisees jovially. He lightly moved over to
Chrysler and looked down to where Jay was kneeling.
"What seems to be the problem here?"
"Apart from your behaviour," said Chrysler under his breath.
"The circuitry seems fried. I wondered if you could help restore
it so we could have a chance at communicating with El Blue Dirtbag up
in space."
Trisees beamed at Chrysler (who found it quite disturbing.)
"well, Mr Chrysler, you're in luck there, because it just so
happens that I've worked on circuitry like this before. And it
doesn't look too heavily damaged."
Chrysler got up, laid the panel on the floor and pointed at the
mass of circuitry.
"Be my guest," he said.
Trisees got down on his knees and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He
placed an arm into the mass of circuitry and pulled it back out, a
thick blackened wire clasped in his palm.
"That's one," he murmmured. Chrysler and Wildflower, sitting from
their vantage points of empty chairs, watched as the top half of
Trisees' body disappeared into the circuitry.
They watched and waited, the occasional grunt of exertion and yelp
of surprise and exclamation of 'got you' wafted up from the circuitry.
"Looks uncomforatble down there," said Chrysler, for the sake of
speaking.
"Whatever," replied Wildflower.
Chrysler rolled his eyes as Trisees pulled himself out fo the
wiring with a large armful of circuit boards, wire and broken
doohickeys.
"Hello once more team," he said Cheerily. "I've removed all thy
broken parts. Now all we need is to find replacements. And judging
from the appearance of this experimental laboratory area, that should
be simple.
"Mr Chrysler, will you assist me in locating said parts?" asked
Trisees, standing up and brushing off his shirt.
"Sure Doc," said Chrysler, half heartedly.
Trisees smiled.
"Miss Wildflower, if you wish you can assist us as well, or you can
watch the comms array and make sure no one tries to tamper or fiddle
with it," suggested Trisees.
"I think," said Wildflower, glaring at Chrysler. "That I'll stay
here."
"Understood," said Trisees. He scooped up the mass of wires and
the like and found a handy empty push trolley, where he placed the
pieces down on top. He began whistling and moved over to the first
deck of computer banks. Glancing behind him, he could see Chrysler
moving very slowly.
"Mr Chrysler, would you be so good as to help me remove this panel
here."
chrysler merely nodded and sighed, before bending down to grab one
end of the panel Trisees was already holding. They heaved it over to
one side and laid it by the edge of a whirring computer bank, before
Trisees attacked the fresh and undamaged wires of the computer.
As he began to weave his magic he asked, "Do you hate me, Mr
Chrysler?"
Jay, disarmed by the remark did a double take.
"I..err..what? Hate you? Well, not hate, but well I don't like
you," explained Chrysler.
Trisees looked down at the floor.
"I've not been the nicest person, have I?" he said, sadly. "I don't
know what happened to me. I was never like that. Ever."
Chrysler shifted on his feet uneasily.
"What did happen to you? Why were you you and then Shakespeare and
then you again. I don't think it was ever explained properly to me,"
said Chrysler.
"I don't think I can explain it either," admitted Trisees. His
eyes glazed over and he leant back against the computer's wall,
looking up at the ceiling. "But it's all due to that machine I
worked on With Sarah Alexander. Ah, Sarah. What a scientist.
Brilliant mind and beautiful. The only person I've ever loved. Ever
will.
"We were attempting to create the machine to end all machines. The
one to unlock human potential. That's my specialty, mental
technology, technology to do with messing around with biological
things and so forth. Anyway, we must have spent two years or so on
the machine when, one evening, I fixed it. I got it working for the
first ever time. And being curious to see if our invention worked, I
tested it. What posessed me to test it on myself I'll never know.
"What happened next is a mystery. I used the machine, but instead
of unlocking my potential, I became filled with this uncontrollable
beating rage. It just caused me to go crazy and destroy that which
had taken the two of us two years. But it didn't go, it stayed with
me, when I woke up on the ship, when I worked in the medibay, it's
been battering my insides perpetually.
"Until now. The last time I awoke, it was gone. And I felt happy
again, like I used to before I ever used that machine."
Trisees stopped talking and sighed.
"Oh well, you make mistakes, I guess you have to learn from them,"
he gave a quiet laugh.
Chrysler allowed a small smile.
Trisees looked up and extended his arm.
"I'd like to take this opportunity of apologising to you, Mr
Chrysler, for all my actions over the last few months, and hope that
I haven't destroyed the chance of a friendship."
Chrysler looked at Trisees hand, before grinning lopsidedly and
grabbing it.
"Not at all, Lawrence," he said, shaking it hard.
A small beep noise sounded from Trisees watch. He rasied his free
arm and looked quizzically at the cracked face.
The number 00:10 was flashing.
"It would seem Mr Chrysler, that you are about to be returned your
playwright," he said smiling. "Just find all the components that
match what's on this trolley, and wait for me to return."
"Understood," replied Chrysler, shaking Trisees hand again.
"Goodbye Jay," Trisees acknowledged. There was a small white flash
of light from the watch which seemed to travel along Trisees arm and
up to his head.
Trisees/Shakespeare's eyes blinked a few times and began to dart
right and left observing the area.
"Doc," said Chrysler warmly, still holding Shakespeare's hand.
Shakespeare's expression changed from surprise to disgust and he
violently let go of Chrysler's hand.
"Get thou'st filthy hand awayeth from'st me, Wretch!" he said,
vehemently, wiping his palm on his shirt.
"Woah, easy Shakes," said Chrysler, holding up his hand
apologetically.
"Thy name ist Shakespeare, impudent swine!" spat Shakespeare at
Chrysler, his eyes thin and severely darkened.
Chrysler's eyes widened, realisation sinking in.
"No, no no, no no no! This can't be happening," Chrysler said
loudly, causing Wildflower to stand up and half hurriedly walk over.
Shakespeare laughed, a low and insulting laugh.
"Thou justeth keep telling thyself that," he said.
"What's up Jay? Has Trisees become a bastard again?" she laughed
and patted Shakespeare's shoulder.
"Get thous't awayeth from me, Foul wench!" he said forcefully
brushing her hand away. Wildlfower took a step back and shook her
head.
"Shakespeare?" she asked timidly.
"That'st Doctor or'st Sir to'eth a flearidden Fricatrice such'st
thyself," he said scowling at her and folding his arms.
Wildlfower shook her head, mortified.
"Oh frell, this time I've really screwed up," she whispered to
herself.
Shakespeare laughed evilly again and this time a little bit louder.
<Umm....TAG!>
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