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masc4masc[ bro had left explicit instructions. order the pain clone. the clone that, you know, causes pain. because that's a normal thing to want.
except, wuh oh! dave's finger slipped and he'd ordered the perfect clone instead and sent in bro's dna sample all casual-like. definitely nothing could possibly go wrong with this plan. cause sure, a perfect bro clone is still going to be an awful fuck that's going to be terrible to dave, but at least it won't be specifically made to cause pain. on purpose. to dave, presumably.
so the clone cooks for a week or so in the clone factory or whatever and then gets delivered in the middle of the night, as things from their ill-advised online ordering usually do. bro drags the crate in and up to the apartment, then flicks open a pocket knife to crack the tape. at least he's not using a katana or anything.
the crate's full of packing materials but it moves slightly as though with someone inside breathing, and bro's the one that starts taking it all out only to find— ]
What the fuck, Dave?
[ yeah, instead of the fucked up looking pain clone, it's a breathing-but-inactive exact copy of bro himself. a copy that jolts as soon as the wrapping comes off its head, pure black eyes flicking open and body jerking into a sitting position as it hunches over and chokes out black fluid and bile, one hand coming up to grip the side of the crate so hard the material starts to buckle a little under its hand. just a little. nothing to worry about.
so of course bro's pissed, doing that whisper-yelling thing he does when dave's really fucking stepped in it, when the clone grunts and shifts, hauling itself up to its feet and cracking its neck loudly, the sound causing an entirely too-long series of pops before its gaze (and head) swivels toward bro. ]
Dude, you good?
[ it even sounds exactly like bro even if the cadence is slightly different. just a little bit off. it's not talking to bro, though. it's clearly looking at dave as it says it.
bro, clearly frustrated, jabs his own clone directly in the chest. ]
Get rid of it. I don't want to see this fucking thing ever again. You hear me, lil man?
[ and then he's gone, just like that. like he always does. the clone remains though, head tilted, staring at bro's back as he leaves. ]
except, wuh oh! dave's finger slipped and he'd ordered the perfect clone instead and sent in bro's dna sample all casual-like. definitely nothing could possibly go wrong with this plan. cause sure, a perfect bro clone is still going to be an awful fuck that's going to be terrible to dave, but at least it won't be specifically made to cause pain. on purpose. to dave, presumably.
so the clone cooks for a week or so in the clone factory or whatever and then gets delivered in the middle of the night, as things from their ill-advised online ordering usually do. bro drags the crate in and up to the apartment, then flicks open a pocket knife to crack the tape. at least he's not using a katana or anything.
the crate's full of packing materials but it moves slightly as though with someone inside breathing, and bro's the one that starts taking it all out only to find— ]
What the fuck, Dave?
[ yeah, instead of the fucked up looking pain clone, it's a breathing-but-inactive exact copy of bro himself. a copy that jolts as soon as the wrapping comes off its head, pure black eyes flicking open and body jerking into a sitting position as it hunches over and chokes out black fluid and bile, one hand coming up to grip the side of the crate so hard the material starts to buckle a little under its hand. just a little. nothing to worry about.
so of course bro's pissed, doing that whisper-yelling thing he does when dave's really fucking stepped in it, when the clone grunts and shifts, hauling itself up to its feet and cracking its neck loudly, the sound causing an entirely too-long series of pops before its gaze (and head) swivels toward bro. ]
Dude, you good?
[ it even sounds exactly like bro even if the cadence is slightly different. just a little bit off. it's not talking to bro, though. it's clearly looking at dave as it says it.
bro, clearly frustrated, jabs his own clone directly in the chest. ]
Get rid of it. I don't want to see this fucking thing ever again. You hear me, lil man?
[ and then he's gone, just like that. like he always does. the clone remains though, head tilted, staring at bro's back as he leaves. ]
