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usually, techno was, like, that strange and a little scary man with a boar mask and wig. it was his feature, being in character on public events and other.
but in everyday life, well.
I guess you know about wilbur soot.
tldr, they were twins.
and it was really hard to distinguish between them when techno did not really want to be techno-blade.
they both loved long sleeves, shirts, hoodies, and soft colors. they had the same height and even haircut. maybe they just had too much in common. but perhaps they just liked to laugh at the people.
obviously all of their similarities disappeared when one of them started talking.
romantic-wil and nerd-techno even spoke in different ways—where wil was soft and talkative, techno could even seem rude, taciturn, and turned into himself. You know, as usual differences between brothers.
if they are not, like, pretending to be each other to have some fun.
but they were too old for this stupid shit, right?
***
– you have to stop, phil. we are literally your sons. you have to distinguish us.
- hey, tech.– phil, completely in the clothes of his character — not that he needed to change too much, because it would be strange to wear giant wings to rehearsal —sounded a little weakly, – it's like, you are a twins, it's really hard, okay?
wil rolled his eyes up. he, obviously, was always a better actor than inflexible techno, so it was not really hard for him to play. It was all too easy. even their voices were quite similar.
– but we still have our own differences, – he answered and pinched his nose in the way techno usually does. part of being a good speaker - the ability to memorize such minor details. – i can't believe you really thought...
- hey, mate, i am sorry, okay? – phil surrendered, – it was wrong from my side. I will try to be better next time.
wil snorted. sometimes – actually, really often – it seemed like phil was not their father, but an unlucky older brother. he was too weak in front of the twin jokes.
niki charged up to them, looking as if she'd only taken on half of her character today, with only the brown old cape with burns on her shoulders, the dark shade of her nemesis.
– don't ya saw wil? he disappeared after discussion about the script. i wanted to say a few words to him before the next scene.
obviously. he and techno had to prepare at least minimally before switching.
– wil has his boring things as always, – he smirked.
being techno was not really hard. speak less, be tougher, roll your eyes. easy.
heeeeh.
niki sighed.
– as always! – she looked a little irritated. oops. sorry, niki, okay, nevermind, I will take care of it later, – tech, here is a syndicate scene repetition. you should at least put on a wig and mask, and, gosh, try to not change at least all your phrases because "voices said you to do it", – she did imaginable quotation marks.
– okay, okay, – he sounded bored, – let's go, we have to finish with it.
- you talk about it like it's your job, not a hobby, – muttered niki as she walked away.
– huh, I really have to dress up. – he said, – cya phil.
- see you on stage, tech! - phil said with a smile.
***
actually, boar mask was surprisingly heavy. techno told him about it, but practice is something else.
the wig, tho, was pretty good. sometimes tech wore him in his usual life and wil, maybe, could do the same. soft, high-quality, comfortable. good.
unlike techno, wil really knew his dialogues. he was, after all, the head writer of the musical, and after hundreds of repetitions, it was hard not to memorize.
but he was techno at tis time, and he had to muddle at least some of his phrases in order to communicate with voices and other things.
he loved the concept of voices, but techno always used them to make jokes and not learn scripts. but it already become part of his character, so wil can do really nothing here.
when he came on stage, he saw techno on the first row – and, damn, a beanie and a dark raincoat suited him. He obviously tried his best — looked softer, smiling, open.
even if wil was more talented as an actor, his brother couldn't have been at least part of it, right?
– okay! – said techno, his voice bright – wil was really proud of him. – let's start. this is part of the syndicate meeting. techno, on the stage. niki, ranboo, phil, wait for your part.
okay, he obviously has to start with the script, and then will bring the voices...
the door opened with a loud bang, and tommy-craken-innit ran into the hall.
– aah, i'm already late, - he muttered quietly after this, – shit, i want to see all of this while techno is performing.
with a smirk, wil noticed that tommy obviously was in a hurry to get here.
– wait, – tommy paid attention to the situation, – wil, why are you playing the tech role instead of him?
– is it... - niki strangely stared at him as if not recognizing him. – wil, what the-
– it's techno?! – exclaimed fundy, who was sitting next to the techno seat.
– naaaaaaaah, – sighed techno, – tommy, did you really did it right now?
and, for god's sake, wil litterally was in the mask. how this little gremlin even-
now everyone was looking at him. he groaned.
– hoooooow. you bastard, how do you do it every time?
tommy looked at him, surprised.
– but it's obvious! you look completely different! techno, – he pointed his finger, – looks like "i'm-a-really-cool
-dude", and wil, – he pointed at him in this time, - looks like a bitch!
moment of silence, while all proceeding with what tommy just said right now.
after this, most of the people in the hall burst into laughter.
wil wanted to hit his head with something hard.