Mission 025: Live Weapons Testing

[super_astute]

Just after the contaiment breach was sealed and half of the surviving personnel were back on duty, Wheatley stopped down to check on Chelldon.  The morning's water cool chatter had been boring and besides, today he had something important to do.  Something that would make his name stand out!  Oh, sure, it helped that lots of people that might have stood in front of him got eaten or committed suicide when it looked like some evil other-dimension monster was going to poke their eyes out and use their skulls for planters...

But Wheatley didn't let that get him down!

Quite chuffed in fact, he arrived at Chelldon's room quite early with his morning rations and beamed at the Test Subject.  "Oh, have we got plans today!  You are going to LOVE this!"

Comments

[stubbornsubject.livejournal.com]

Chelldon didn't share the enthusiasm, he never did, Wheatley was not a bunny rabbit and therefore didn't get any sort of smile from him. Snagging his rations, he dropped on the bed and ripped into the packet to have breakfast. He had decorate his room, in a way, and hung up the shirt from his bunny run in with filed down toothbrush. Hopefully they'd take the hint that he needed a new one.

And hey, impromptu weapon is needed!

"Testing?" Chelldon asked simply once the breakfast was half eaten and he was on his feet. He was always eager to get going, the sooner he did it, the sooner he got home, the sooner the next day came. It sounded boring. And it was.

But it was the little victory of being alive that he liked. The tally on the wall across from the shirt showed jkst how long he'd been here. It was certainly not a small one.

[stubbornsubject.livejournal.com]

And, just to back Wheatley up, Chelldon nodded. Again. Oh he was never sure when to stop, he gave it a few seconds before he was sure he had nodded enough but the look on the chiefs face made it kind of clear that he had done it for too long. He didn't seem like a pleasant man and Chelldon didn't see how this was at all helping his arm.

He was still in pain, you know, it seemed like Wheatley had forgotten in favour of trying to brag.

"Oh would you shut it, Wheatley? Just take the retard ahead to the medics if you must but don't touch anything. Understand? Just nothing! I know what you're like," Hunt ordered because Wheatley had a habit of cocking everything up and the sooner he'd been and gone, the happier he'd be.

Chelldon cocked his head to the side before turning to Wheatley. Why did everyone think he was brain damaged?