Ask a Character: Christopher (and Zeta)

[Schwarzen*Adler]

I. Let's Annoy the Briton!
co-starring... Zeta.

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"We have been assigned another command, sir."

Blinking drowsily, the arseholed (drunk as hell) Brit shook his head. "Zeta," he mumbled, " kindly refrain from shouting; it's giving me a headache. And also, turn off the lights... I'm going back to sleep. Wake me up at midnight so I can head out to the pub again. If anyone asks or comes by, tell them I died on the table and didn't leave anything behind for them in my will; if my brother comes by, tell him to sod off and grow some bollocks."

"Negative, sir." the mech replied simply, " I cannot do that. The orders come from higher up. Any procrastination will be dealt with gravely and painfully."

Sitting up, Chris shot a glare at the young girl. "Zeta," he growled, emitting a low sound from the back of his throat, " You take orders directly from me. And if your orders are so important, then get on with it. "

"Negative. The assignment belongs to you.
I was merely told to assist."

"Git."

Sitting up sluggishly, the Briton winced.
Damn, his head hurt.

"Now, what is the important assignment you speak of? I don't remember agreeing to any new tasks lately."

"Answer questions."

"What?"

"We are to answer questions, sir. We must answer truthfully and honestly for any lies will be dealt with--"

Rolling his eyes, the young Briton slumped back down onto his cold, cozy metal table. "Gravely and Painfully. I know; I know. Get on with it then," he muttered, motioning for the questions to begin.

"I'll answer it if I can somehow manage to feign the appearance that I give a shite.
Though, that's terribly unlikely."

[[ To ask a question to one of them specifically, just state who you want to address it to~ You can ask either Zeta, Chris, or both of them.]]

[Schwarzen*Adler]

Something has happened

Hearing a loud banging on the door, Chris frowned. " Oh god... the young....man turned woman... muttered, "again?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" the Brit yelled irritably, "I'm getting on it! Just give me a few days and I'll fix this shite up! Now will you please be patient before I sic Zeta onto you?" Turning to glance at the....baby...mecha, the Briton gritted his teeth.

It was a bluff, yes, but he was getting sick of all the complaints. Ever since that morning, he had been getting rant after rant. " What happened?!" " What did you do?!" "Are you going to fix it?!"

Well of course he was. What did they think he was doing at the moment? Jerking off? But if they kept at it like that, then he swore to god he'd just leave them all like that out of spite.

" Englishman!" he heard from the door, the owner's voice hoarse and croaky, "Pauvre con! You dumb fuck!"

"... French Wench, I don't have the time to deal with you at the moment--"

"Qu'est-ce que t'as foutu? What the fuck did you do? If you don't change us back, mark my words I will end your life after I break down this door."

"Well if you don't get away from my door, I'll end your life by setting you on fire. Oh, wait; it's been done already, hasn't it?"

"Don't give me that...that... that response! Open this door!"

Rolling his eyes, the Brit bit down painfully on his tongue. If he let the wench rant, maybe she would leave faster. He could only hope so. While he loved irritating and messing around with the French bird's head, at that moment he didn't really have the time.

And one less voice would greatly help his developing head-ache, thank you very much.

......


"Well, it appears the French don't age well."
"Well, it appears that all Englishmen, or should I say women, are tools."

"Look, French Wench, I'm working on it. You can go ahead and yell all you want, but you'll just make yourself die of a heart attack faster than necessary. Now, get your wrinkled, old arse away from my doorstep before I do something drastic. Besides, if you kill me, how else will you be changed back?"

" There are many other scientists, aside from a mere one of les goddams, who may solve this. Don't think that in your arrogance you are all that is needed to solve this."

" I don't think I am; I know I am. Now will you kindly leave?
Your disease may spread, and I would prefer not to catch whatever plague you old French wenches carry with you."
--------------

"Ah. Now that she is of the way," the young man mumbled, petting the head of his dogs Pudges, "Back to work. If you have any questions, leave them behind and I may answer them."

[treyxkoren]

How do you celebrate your bday?