Shaggy And The Puppeteer

Participants:

f_doyle_icon.gif f_reed_icon.gif

Scene Title Shaggy And The Puppeteer
Synopsis Doyle passes on another assignment to Reed.
Date April 25, 2009

Textile Factory 17


The room in which the time-travellers so recently gathered to discuss their plans is much quieter, emptier, and lonelier without them speaking and bickering with one another; darkened save for the soft glow of the laptop's LCD screen where it sits upon the table, cables snaking across the floor to the proper plugs.

At least, it is until a hand reaches into the room and flips the switch, causing flourescents high above to flicker into pale life with a sharp hum that suggests they might need to be replaced soon. The puppeteer walks along within at a casual saunter, his head turning exaggeratedly to one side, then to the other, hooded gaze making certain he's alone before he continues his approach to the table.

He drops himself into a seat with a grunt, and reaches over to nudge at the mouse a bit and bring the screen's power saver down. Clearing his throat, he taps at the microphone plugged into it with a finger, "Hello? Hello?" The mic's lifted, then, and he calls into it, "Gooooooood Morning, Vietnam!"

Expecting this particular call, he's not entirely sure he's going to answer it just yet. Something about Doyle has always given him the willies. He certain that Doyle's powers cannot affect him, since he's not human. But still.

But it may be important. There's a bit of a crackling sound as Reed hijacks the sound card and loads up some samples. The voice of Scooby Doo's Shaggy bellows from the speakers. "Gotta be so loud, man? I mean, just talk normal, willya?" he responds as he settles himself into the laptop.

"Need something?"

The microphone's set back down upon the desk after the speakers crackle to life, and Doyle leans back in the chair with a soft creak, both hands dropping onto his chest and fingers steepling a bit as he considers the laptop with a purse of his lips. He, too, isn't terribly at ease with the other 'man'. One works in flesh. The other in the digital. Two entirely different worlds.

"I bring 'orders'," he states in a rather dryly-spoken tone, "From our great lord and master, the Doctor Edward Ray." He fans his fingers in dramatic fashion, wriggling them a bit as he says that. Not that Reed can see him. He doesn't think, anyway.

"Who?"

It was a joke, so he follows it with some canned laughter. "When does he send you to tell me what to do?" It's a bratty remark from a bratty seventeen year old.

"What does he want?" The cartoon voice sounds aloud. Reed doesn't enjoy being bossed around any more than any teenager does. But he knows that in order for him to get what he wants, he's going to have to go along with all of this. So he does.

"Who knows why he does what he does," Doyle drawls out in tones that sound like he's growing weary of Ray's enigmatic demands, one hand lifting up to rest two fingers against his temple as he leans against it, the older man's lips pursing in a tight line for a moment. A few silent heartbeats pass, and then he states, "He wants you to jump to the Company's Bronx Facility — Primatech Research. See what you can get, including security protocols, cell phone conversations, et cetera et cetera. I think it's been abandoned since the raid, but the computers might still be there. I suppose they are, or he wouldn't be sending you there."

If you've never heard the voice of Shaggy saying the word 'fuck' it can be high comedy, though it was definitely unintentional. The word slips out and there's a long moment of silence. In fact, the silence lingers on so that one might think that Reed has left altogether.

It's Doyle's suspicion, indeed, after a few moments. He hesitates, then leans forward a bit, tapping one finger to the microphone and venturing, "Ah. Reed? Are you still in there?"

The reponse is simply, "Is he certain it's abandoned?"

"No." Doyle's silent for a few long moments, "Neither am I. I didn't exactly…" A faint chuckle, "…stick around afterwards. After what happened, though, I can't imagine they'd be stupid enough to still be using it, where everyone knows where it is."

"Alright. I'll go check it out, but if for one moment I think that place is still active, I'm not going in. Or if I think it's unstable powerwise. I can't afford for one of those computers to shut down while I'm in there. I'm not quite ready to die just yet." Reed has already had one close call in this time period and he's not looking to have another.

"No skin off my back," Doyle lifts one heavy shoulder in a careless sort of gesture, hesitating then with a hand half-raised before he leans forward; resting his arm against the table's edge, his voice lowering a bit in more conspiratorial tones. "Do you remember any news broadcasts from… back home… involving an Officer Magnes Verlane?"

Reed didn't pay much attention to the news as a kid, so the name doesn't ring a bell with him. "No. Should I?" he asks.

"Just wondering," Doyle murmurs, quietly, thoughtfully, "So many old… friends. Every one an opportunity. Did you ever see— no, I suppose Back to the Future was well before your time. Ah, Eric, when did you get so old?" He sounds tired for a moment as he leans back, flashing a tight smile at the unseeing computer, "Anyway. That was what he asked me to ask you. Make an effort to find Odessa Knutson's file while you're in there, if you could."

Reed isn't the talkative teen around, but he knows what he has to do. There isn't much point in delaying this either as there's no telling when the'll shut down that facility for good. "I'll see what I can do and I'll put the information back onto this laptop, similiar to the Pinehearst stuff. Tell April. She can make sure whatever is needed gets over to .. what's his face." He pauses then asks. "Is there anything else?"

"No." A pause, "No, no, not a thing." Doyle's hands brace to the arms of the chair, and he pushes himself up to his feet with a creak of the chair, a wan smile curving to his lips, "I'm just passing on orders like a good little gopher."

Reed begins to extract himself from the system, responding only with. "Alright. I should have something in the next twenty four hours or so." With that, the system is relinquished and Reed is off to do a little pre-infestation scouting. He doesn't have a good feeling about this.


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