Xaviers!

On his way back from his late class -- yes, classes! They still existed, this is a place of learning, you know! -- Will walked through the abandoned common area of the dorms. This late at night on a Friday, it generally wasn't in use -- people were off in town, or in Chelmsford, or in London, or just sleeping. Sleep was good. He was intrigued, however, that a familiar face was working on a laptop, typing things up in the corner.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You seem to have that covered," Will said, with a shrug. "Only one Will Stanton enrolled, right? At least for now, there's no need for us to double up. Besides, you passed Performance Analysis about a billion years ago; you're not getting anything out of it."

"We're supposed to go, still. So I go. As should you. It's no use to anyone if you just sit here doing nothing. At least go to one of the history classes; there are differences here, you know."

"You care about here, then?" Will smirked. "What happened to waiting here so you could go home? Planning on staying here the rest of your life, then?"

"You know what happened," Will said, quietly, leaning against the table. "I just...have to make the best of it from here on out."

"Right. Because trusting mystical bullshit rather than science was always going to be the solution. Sure. It's convenient, too, because it means you don't actually have to DO anything. It's not your fault; you're just a pawn in an inter-dimensional game of chess! Oh, woe is you. Don't you ever get tired of feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Don't you ever get tired of being a jerk?"

"Oooh, nice comeback.

Look, I get it. Believe me, I do -- I know you better than anyone else here, after all. Things are going to be alright in the long run, I promise you. Because I'm going to make them alright, not because we'll wait for divine intervention. And don't worry, I'll make sure they're OK for you, too. I'm looking out for your best interests."

"Yeah, you seem really concerned so far."

"No, no, really. Trust me, I've got plans within plans.

For instance -- hold this for me, will you?" he added, holding up a loose USB cable.

"Hold what?" Will said, taking the cable...and then falling onto the table.

"GOD, you're gullible," Will said, shaking his head as he checked the connection from his laptop to the other Will. "I can't decide how much of it is you just having the same brainpan as an Argentinian flea and how much of it is a subconscious desire to actually have stuff like this happen to you. Well, whatever makes you happy, I suppose."

Will's laptop spun in place for a moment, and then popped up a message:

Code: Select all

Unknown Device installed.
One of the USB devices attached to this computer has malfunctioned, and Windows does not recognize it.
Try reconnecting the device. If Windows still does not recognize it, replace the device

Will frowned, and thwacked the other Will on the head.

Code: Select all

WillStanton.
Device Type: Other devices
Manufacturer: Unknown
Location: Port_#0003.Hub_#0005
Device Status:
The drives for this device are not installed (Code 28)
There are no compatable drivers for this device.
To find a driver for this device, click Update Driver

"Concussive maintenance. Always works like a charm, ey Will?"

Will rolled his eyes up to look at the other Will, and frowned. "What....you could.....permission..." he stuttered out.

His green-electric lines, courtesy of ASHLIE, were flashing very quickly as he connected to the computer.

"Yeah, see, I figured if ASHLIE was going to tech you all up, then this was an inevitable outcome. The way I figure it, this isn't a test to see who can beat the other one up; that's not really a competition now, is it? It's a test of ingenuity. Of cleverness. Of planning and organization.

She gave you tech parts, Will. She's a robutt, this is probably the biggest advantage she could come up with. And you haven't done jack and shit with them. So, like always, I'm going to take the initiative. Trust me, when this is all over, we'll both be satisfied."

Will scrolled down a bunch of drop-down boxes, and found what he was looking for, clicking to install the proper drivers, and then turning towards his doppelganger to see how that would turn out.

Will shrunk down on the table, so he wasn't hanging over the sides any more. His arms and legs clung in tight to his body -- but they didn't otherwise change, much, retaining mostly a humanoid appearance. If Will (uh...Timid!Will, that is to say) had been in charge, there would probably have been a much more obvious and visual shift going on...but he wasn't in charge; Action!Will was.

At first, it didn't seem like anything had happened -- like something had fizzled. Then, Timid!Will opened his mouth, and out slid a copy of the fight poster Will had been putting up. And then, after a moment, a second. And a third.

Color printing was so expensive these days, after all.

"Ha! Yes! You know, I was honestly concerned that wasn't going to work," Will grinned, ruffling the other Will's hair. "You are fantastic at this, I'm not going to lie. I'm almost jealous. Almost."

Will whistled to himself, as he futzed around on his computer a bit more. "Don't worry; I'm not going to, like, wipe your mind or or manually change your name in here or anything. You know, you should really password protect this stuff, or at least install a firewall. Actually, that's not a terrible idea," he mused.

Will's repsonse was muffled by the paper coming out of his mouth, but it didn't exactly seem entirely pleased.

"All's fair in love and war," Will joked back. "Just gives you more incentive to practice I suppose."

Opening up the settings for his printer, Will added a couple lines of code. "A little something for me, a little something for your friends and, I'm feeling nice, a little something for you as well," he smiled.

"I know you, Will; you don't need to be embarrassed around me. You hide and cower inside your own little shell because you're afraid people will judge you, and you know? You're right. They will. The trick, though, is to have a little more confidence in who you are and what you want to be. It's done me wonders. So, what I'm doing here, is I'm taking that little bit of shame, that embarassment in who and what you are? And I'm shunting it around, so it expresses itself in different, less terrible ways. I can't get rid of it; you're, like, 90% shame by volume at the moment, but I can certainly make it run your life less.

Did Sam ever do that for you? Did either Sam, for that matter? Nah. They let us live with it. We tried to work it out with friendship and with therapy -- so much therapy -- but we never did really get rid of all of it, did we? Well, ~I~ have, now, at least, but that's not really super fair to you, now is it?

The problem, mind you, is that they've been trying to help you like they would a person. And, deep down inside, you don't want to be a person. And I'm the only here who really ~gets~ that. I mean, on your level. Personally, I'm glad I'm no longer in that headspace; it's undignified. But after I win the fight this week, we won't be confused for one another anymore, and if losing your dignity makes you happy, then more power to you, my friend."

More muffled protests from the printer, though as to what exactly he was protesting, it was unclear.

"Yeah, I know, I know, you don't like that turn of phrase. Well, in the words of a wiser man than I...tough titties.

I will admit, I'm coming around to ASHLIE's point of view -- she's done a good job keeping you from being the threat to society the Brotherhood made you. The Brotherhood let you grow out of control, and my solution was to limit you as much as possible. ASHLIE's solution was to trust you and let you grow your own way -- and hey, it seems to be working. That's fantastic news! It almost nearly worked, too; just a couple slight nuts and bolts to be tweaked to make sure that the world is safe, that I'm happy, and that, in the end, you're happy, too.

Bringing in a psychologist to talk to a printer, I swear to god. If something's wrong with your tech, you bring it to the repairman."

Will finished typing, and scrolled up and down to make sure he hadn't missed anything. It wasn't much code, certainly not compared to the overall length of the file he was editing -- a tenth of a percent? A hundreth of one? He wasn't trying to change Will's mind, after all -- just a light touch.

"Some of this stuff is just for the fight -- though, who knows? You might enjoy it enough to keep it around afterwards. Depends on how other people take it, I suppose. The rest of this should protect you from people like Melopmene, but leave you flexibile for enough for people like Miriam -- people you trust, aye? I mean, personally, I'd re-adjust just how trusting you are, but that's for you to figure out on your own. Maybe being part of a 'pack', or whatever, will help you out there. I hope so!"

Will gave the other Will's head one more scruff. "Well, I'm going to get some sleep. I'm a person, after all, and people need sleep. You've got a bit more work to finish up here, I see; if you want to hang those posters up yourself when you're done, knock yourself out. Otherwise, you can just leave 'em here or slip them under the door and I'll get to them. You need anything else? No? Cool beans. See ya around, greenie."

Six hours later, Will was still printing out material. The color had drained from him, however -- from his hair, his skin, his clothes. He was all in black and white now, and so were the last posters coming out. The only thing still in color were the green electricity lines, still throbbing, but slowing down.

((open))

Natalie wanders into the common room, eyes looking around as she tries to trace some anomaly in the dorm network. Her eyes are mostly on the ceiling as she mentally traces the wires, but the anomaly dies and she frowns, casting her eyes about the room. Then her eyes fall on the strange printer. It takes her a moment to analyze and register, finally resulting in a "Will?"

"Natalie?" Will said.

Well OK, no, with a mouthful of glossy flyers, it was more "Na-wa-wee?", but the intent was there.

She crosses to him and takes the flyers. "What are you doing? Are you okay?" Both questions sounded like they tried to fire off simultaneously.

"I'm...printing out flyers," he said, wryly. "My throat is parched..."

His voice sounded raspy, like he had shouted for hours and lost his voice.

She glances at the stack of flyers, "Well, I think you can stop now. Let me get you some water." She ducks into the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water.

The laptop ticked down towards zero, and then beeped as the print job finished.

"Thanks," Will said, trying to move his arms to grab the glass. "You're a lifesaver..."

"Only on alternate Thursdays," she quips badly. She looks at the flyers again, "You're advertising this?"

"No...it's the other guy. He got the jump on me, and, well..."

She makes a face, "He is an asshole." She looks at the connection to the laptop and tries to find a way to undo it.

It's easy enough to undo -- Will's just connected by a USB cable, so simply unplugging the cable works just fine.

Will gasped for a moment as the connection broke, his eyes flashing green and the lightning stripes down his side flashing red for just a moment, before everything returned to normal.

He grabbed at the glass and eagerly drank the water.

"Ugh, I needed that...thanks," he smiled up at her.

"No problem," she says with a half-smile. "I can go get you more water if you need it. How long have you been like that?"

"Let's see," Will said, glancing around. "There were a lot of flyers to go through, so I'd say...all night? Depends on how early it is now."

"3:30 AM and some seconds, depending on how precise you want to get."

"Fantastic. Then it's been about six hours, depending on how precise you want to get," he said, looking down at his ivory-white hands.

"You seem to be looking a little grey. Is there something I can do to help with that? Do you need more ink?"

"Yeah, I think something like that. Lot of green in those posters, and I have no idea where I got the paper from...

...uh, are you alright?" he asked, really looking at Natalie for the first time. "Everything OK?"

"I am. Why wouldn't I be?" She gestures, "Come on. I know where one of the supply closets is and I just happen to know the codes for it."

"Oh. You just sounded...

IF you're ok, that's good. I just haven't seen you around since the hospital.

I'll follow you to that supply closet, if you think nobody would get mad."

"I don't see any reason why someone would get mad. And the hospital was... scary. I ran out of power and had to bail out of my body into the hospital servers."