Beep
-For your crimes against the people of England-
Beep
-Dream on thy cousins smothered in the tower-
Beep
-The first was I that helped thee to the crown-
BEEP
-And fall thy edgeless sword, despair and die-
BEEP
-The last was I that felt thy tyranny!-
Thunk! The sound of a halberd pierced Richard's mind, the very moment of his death.
Gasp
His eyes shot open as he started to gasp for air, unable to piece things together as he struggled for dear life, finding himself within a great transparent container filled to the brim with water.
-004 is awake- -prepare the IV- -contact the- -Clarence will-
Sounds rushed through Richard's head as he watched the strange people dressed in clothes of white rushed pass the glass, as he struggled.
He'd already pulled himself together, even as he struggled to reconcile the memory of the blade piercing his skull with the current situation.
He stopped struggling, understanding that struggling would only cost him precious air.
He was naked in this glass jar, with a weird cord attached to his stomach, and a weird mask attached to his face, one that he quickly realized gave him air, also giving him piece of mind to observe properly, watching these people.
Everything was alien to him currently, and he had no power as of now, no way to truly do anything.
If he was alive, by some miracle, then he was now in a world where his crimes were laid bare, everything he'd strived for, destroyed.
He would have to start from the ground up.
Plead reformation, claim he'd seen the error of his ways.
It'd be a difficult road, but once he returned to the top...
Richard couldn't help the small lip curl, as he found himself with a seemingly new lease on life, a new chance to play the game.
The odds were against him, nay God himself was against him, but he had returned.
He had fallen into the pits of Hell, and had risen, an act of defiance against the lord.
He would be their scourge again.
Fwoosh! the sound of gas exhaling as the water drained, and the container opened up, signifying Richard's second birth into this world. And this time...
... things would be different.
The people and this singular room were not the only things were different, for nay, everything was different.
There was no deference, no spite at him, the man who had brought ruin to England.
There were whispers however, as the people kept their distance, and no deference was shown to the king, even if he was merely the former one. It was irritating, enough to make one want to show them their place...
But not now.
Now was the time to observe.
Although most kept their distance, a few occasionally let their curiosity get to them, and revealed a few things.
The most important thing he learned was that it was 20xx.
It had been well over 5 centuries since he had departed this world.
It all made so much more sense now.
They weren't meeting a king so much as they were meeting a relic in the past.
No wonder they did not fear him. He was more myth than reality for them.
Knowing that made it so much easier for him to lure them in, keeping a kind facade, as if that which was written of him was nothing but fabricated lies. Reality is always malleable, and with that much time, Richard could easily make himself the victim of rumors, of a history written by the victors.
As for the victors, they were all gone now. When seen that way, perhaps he could be seen as the final victor, though the chance remained that they too may be brought back the same way he had been.
This science, it sounded very much like the heresy the church once would've had one crucified for.
Not that he minded, for church was nothing but a tool to him, God nothing but a cursed reminder of his damned back.
And now that was removed, and the position of God destabilized. How wonderful.
Yes, Richard had confirmed that his back had been fixed. He'd suspected that to be the case when he had emerged from the tank, and his walk felt more natural and comfortable, the pain gone.
They gave him a quick guide to the years that followed his death, the centuries that followed.
They quickly taught him some modern sense, the modern governments, and bits of knowledge here and there.
But they did not tell him why.
Why he was alive again.
Why they had brought him back.
Why they would bring back a usurped and vile king, one who was infamous, and even had a play written about him.
Why in an age where kings had no power, and most were relegated to mere mascots of a country, more useless than Henry the 6th or even Edward could ever aspire to be.
Why he was the fourth.
After two weeks of thinking and contemplating, his questions were to be answered as he was escorted to meet the person in charge of this project.
As Richard entered the room, he heard a voice echoing through the hall.
It was a vibrant and warm voice, annoyingly enticing, warm and happy.
He hated those.
The lines themselves were arguably no better. Worse even perhaps.
"I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl,
the secret mischiefs that I set abroach,
I lay unto the grievous chare of others,
Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness,
I do beweep to many simple gulls,
namely to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham,
and tell them 'tis the queen and her allies
that stir the King against the Duke my brother,
Now they believe it, and withal whet me,
to be revenged on Rivers, Dorset, Grey,
but then I sigh, and, with a piece of scripture, tell them that God bids us to do good for evil,
and thus I clothe my naked villainy
with odd old ends, stol'n forth of Holy writ,
and seem a saint when most I play the devil!"
As Richard walked in, he quickly noted the names, and guessed the source, but played dumb.
Walking into the room, Richard came to the source of the voice, a man adorned in more weird clothes, what they call "jeans" and a "casual short sleeve".
The man with tanned skin and bleached white hair, turned towards him with a fresh(gross) smile as he greeted him warmly.
"Well? what did you think?" he cheerfully asked.
"It was wonderful!" Richard lied as he returned the smile with a smile of his own, carefully observing the tall man.
The man rolled his eyes. "Now tell me what you really think." he said, and Richard "ceded" his truth.
"Those lines were horrid, absolutely horrid."
The man giggled. "I know right! That was their impression of you, king Richard the 3rd!"
Richard scoffed. "I would never speak like that" he said, as he eyed the secretary standing next to the man, who seemed to be... oddly familiar in spite of his formal clothing. That orange hair...
Seemingly ignorant of Richard's suspicions, the man continued. "Come, sit! Let us talk in depth. I'm sure you have a fair amount of questions." The man guided Richard to a seat in front of a small coffee table as they both sat down, and Richard had to marvel once more how wonderful chairs in this new world was.
"The names Jonas. Jonas Trunks."
He put his hand out. A handshake they called it?
Richard copied the motion fluidly, as he reached his hand out and shook it in turn.
"And I'm sure you know of me." Richard said politely.
"Ha! Of course." Jonas chuckled.
Clap
"So, shoot." the man said in his weird lingo, but Richard ignored it, as well as the blatant disregard of him and politely asked.
"Forgive me if I come off as rude and ungrateful, but I wanted to ask the obvious." Pause. "How am I alive exactly?"
"Ah, right to the meat and potatoes huh? No entrees first?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Hm? No, no, let's uh, as you say, start with the main course." Richard said, playing along with some difficulty.
The man shrugged. "Cloning. We copied your body and the mind followed." he said.
Richard paused there, as his body went stiff. "So, I'm not the original Richard then?
The man casually shrugged, disregarding Richard's existential crisis.
"Who knows. We may have copied the body and extracted the memories, cured your back(your welcome by the way) so honestly, who knows? The experiences are the same, the dna is mostly the same, supplemented by some of the modern royal families less screwed up Dna, so I suppose it's all up to you."
Richard struggled with it for a good moment, before putting it all down to contemplate later. His plans may change, but his intent would remain the same.
"And where was my body exactly?" asked Richard, struggling past that mind boggling thought, and out of some morbid curiosity as to how the man had managed to get his hands on his body, when there was no way the royal family would have so easily allowed such a dangerous man such as himself to be brought back.
Jonas shrugged. "We found you beneath a parking lot." he said, and although Richard did not know what this "parking lot" was, he could hear the mockery easily enough.
He was more surprised his body was kept after what he had done. He expected his body to be burned or crushed to bits. To his good fortune it seems.
A chuckle could be heard as the man behind Jonas broke out in laughter, cutting himself off quickly.
Richard could not help himself, for he swore there was something similar about laughter, but different, for it was a joyous laughter. At his own expense no less.
"Buckingham?" he asked disbelievingly.
The man stopped, as he looked at Richard with a sense of familiarity. Cracking a smile. "It's good to see you again your majesty!"
Richard maintained his composure, but inwardly, was baffled at the smile Buckingham showed.
Jonas nodded. "Yes, 003, Buckingham." he frowned for a minute, before starting his next statement. " Unfortunately, you're the most successful, and in the case of 003 Buckingham, the memories and mind were seemingly "damaged" in the" he makes another annoying hand gesture, this time indicating the motion of a falling guillotine. Of course Richard knew how Buckingham died. He ordered his death, which was why he was so unsure why Buckingham was so happy to see him, though he did have a guess. Damaged...
Jonas sighed. "Yup. His mind is still sharp, but he can't quite recall his last few months of life, nor does he understand anything at all when it comes to his death, so mentioning it is pointless."
Buckingham got down and gave Richard's a hug. It was stiff, and a bit awkward, and it led Richard to question the truth of the statement.
"Hugs, not quite used to those" Buckingham said, excusing the stiffness of his posture. Richard did not comment on this.
Richard found that greatly suspicious, but seeing as Buckingham wasn't jumping to end him, he put those suspicions aside. And if it were true, there was something interesting about hanging with the man he killed.
"Why."
"Why what?" Jonas said, slightly cocking his head, yet there was a hint of a smile, as the man once more
"Why bring back a king without a throne? There is no reason to bring me back when clearly history does not look upon king Richard 3rd as a leader?"
Jonas snorted. "Good. I'm not looking for the king called Richard, but the duke of Gloucester Richard, the schemer. The saboteur."
"I do not know what those God-forsaken plays say, but I assure you that-"
"-Richard." The tanned man interrupted him for once, and in this instance, the facade dropped. Not on Richard's part, but Jonas' part.
"Did you know? My name happens to be derived from Janus, the god of choices." His stare was piercing through the soul of Richard, as he felt himself scrutinized beneath the stare of the man. Richard felt as if all he was had been stripped down to his core, that he was seen through with but one glance, as if his essence was laid bare.
He hated it. He hated how small he felt, how insignificant.
"You've come at a crossroads here. Choose, and choose carefully. You can play dumb, and we simply mark you up as a success of the project and you get to live a simple life. We won't treat you bad." He added, emphasizing Richard's safety.
"But you will live a boring mundane life, and do an average 9 to five job, come home, sleep, wake, work. Repeat" he said, as a sense of boredom slowly overcame Richard just hearing the monotone words.
"Or." He leaned in. "Or you tell me that the king of lies and sabotage stands before me..." He paused, and Richard leaned in, interested in what the man was implying.
"And?" he asked as he leaned in, breath bated, as he could feel the lure, the chance to do once more.
Jonas smiled
"And then we can play. You get a new identity, we place you in England, use that new royal blood that runs through you, tie you to the current family, and you. run. loose. You get to start the game all over again, and this time, you rule. "
Richard was tempted. The idea of living a boring life was out of consideration immediately. He couldn't imagine it. A quite life?
Nonsense. He was not a man of peace and quiet, but war and blood. Of manipulation and deceit. Living the life that Jonas offered would never be enough.
Richard could practically smack his lips at the deal the man before him offered.
Still.
"What's in it for you?" he asked, as curiosity flashed through his eyes.
Jonas shrugged. "I have orders. Orders to bring England to heel. I could grab a plethora of other people, sure, but dare I say it, you are best fit for the modern age."
"Me? Really?"
"mmm. The modern age is not an age of chivalry, but a world of cunning and manipulation. False facades and the manipulation of the crowds."
"Oh!?" Richard said as his eyebrows went up. His blood was practically tingling, his hair raising. Even in spite of the obvious alarms that rang, the danger of Buckingham looming overhead, and this new, incomprehensible world.
He was tempted. Another chance at the game, a chance that he would not ruin.
"Oh yes. You would be like a shark in water. The new England is practically yours for the taking. And all you have to do is agree to a few conditions. Janus' eyes glinted ominously, and just for a second, the shadows behind him seemed to split into 2. Two heads, two paths.
And Richard had chosen his path.
"I am..."
As Richard left the room Buckingham watched carefully until Richard was gone, departing through the door.
Unlike the cheerful radiance he had given off like he had been sending off an old friend, Buckingham's aura was now the presence of pure spite flowing through the man's veins.
"Geez." complained Jonas as he dug his finger through his ear. "Calm down over there, huh? With that kind of spite, I'm surprised he can't feel it from over there. What'd he even do to piss you off so much?"
"He chopped off my head. Immortalized me as the traitorous scrooge under some 3rd rate villain for all to read out of a book" Buckingham said through gritted teeth. If his pathetic death were not enough, then the fact that he was forever immortalized in plays as a villain who flipped sides so quickly, and fooled so easily was more than enough to garner his hatred.
Jonas shrugged. "Fair enough. So what do you think? Does he believe you truly don't remember what comes after, and you know?" he made a cutting gesture across the throat, making a weird sound. Ssshhhck
Buckingham thought about it for a minute. Finally, he responded. "He'll suspect but will likely tread carefully. " Buckingham chuckled painfully. "I'm sure he'll derive some sick joy from hanging out with someone he's killed, while the other remains blissfully unaware."
"He'll betray you eventually." Buckingham commented now that Richard left the room, his cheerful demeanor having since long disappeared, trying to convince the man(?) known as Jonas that this was the wrong choice.
Jonas shrugged. "Of course, both you and Richard the 3rd over there are both dangerous and conniving people, who managed to claim the whole of England through tricks and backstabbing. I expect nothing less."
Buckingham had to concede on this front. Despite the fact that he now firmly took a stance against the monster known as Richard, he recalled all the horrible things he had done at the service of the man.
It took death for him to realize the wrongs he had done, the betrayals he had made to everyone around him only for the one he trusted to betray him in the end.
And here he was in the end, given a second chance to restrain the beast, to restrain rather than enable the beast.
Buckingham shook his head. "You do not know him as I do. That man, no, that thing is a monster, and if he gets what he wants-"
"But what if he never gets what he wants?" interrupted Jonas. "You're right, that he is undoubtedly a monster. But he is a cunning monster, one that ultimately only failed once he became king, brought down by his own brutality as he shed his previous cloak. It is this cloak that will also be his tarp binding him down. As long as he is far from his goal, he will not act rashly, and will tread carefully."
He tapped his desk thoughtfully.
"I'm curious, I'll admit. No hunched back to fall back on and offered the chance to have England in the palm of his hand, how he'll move forward. No people from the past left to resent, a whole new world, a whole new identity."
"Do you think he may have a change of heart?"
Silence
Seeing the dumb look that Buckingham was giving him, Jonas couldn't help but laugh.
"No, he'll probably never change. But that's fine. I don't need him to change. I simply need him to play his role. And should he ever step out of line and try to repeat history..."
Jonas tapped on his computer upon which multiple codes ran, with familiar names running down the line.
"Well..."
002 Clarence
003 Richmond
005 Hal
Jonas cracked a smile, vile in its very form.
"Richard's not the only one who can replace an unreliable subordinate."
