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 Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:10 pm
The MacGyvering one caught the object, mainly because Matthias had shouted "here, catch" and tossed something. It was hard to make out that it was a coin in flight, and at this point anything useful would have helped...
Much to James' dismay, however, it turned out to be an ordinary gold coin, as far as he could tell... Being a man who didn't put much trust in magic unless he was the one telling it who to screw over, he thought it best to not even try and guess at what the crazy businessman had up his sleeve, and, instead, pocketed the coin.
Other than that, James continued hobbling on towards the construct at his slow but steady pace.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:15 pm
(( I can stretch my time here out to 8:30pm, and if we can't finish by then i can be back on at 10pm. Assuming any of you feel like/are able to be up that late. ))
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:18 pm
The lump of metal facing Fischig suddenly burst upwards and outwards, opening up as the metal projectile smashed against the concrete. It wrapped its body against the jagged scrapmetal, and a high-pitched whirring could be heard as it aimed the point towards the knight. With that, the robot launched the spear-like scrap right back at Fischig.
This operation messed with the machine's balance, so when the tendril that Rage broke his sword free from turned into a blade itself and went for the man's chest, it didn't have a whole lot of force behind it. Nonetheless, it was still razor-sharp, and the two blades at the side were pushing against Rage's sword, ready to cut him down if given the opportunity.
Truly a machine of multi-taskery, it launched another volley of four RPGs. Two veered in the direction of Matthias, while one flew towards James, hoping to stop the man from getting any closer. As per usual, they had to arch high into the air, giving the men some time to come up with a counter attack.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:24 pm
Finding his own weapon turned against him as the metal flew through the air. Screaming an obscenities into the air he ran diagonaly towards the machine and threw himself into a roll as the scrap metal passed over him. Narrowly avoiding he lay prone on the ground which was nothing short of unproductive. Fischig began to climb back to his feet.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:33 pm
Finding himself in a difficult situation, Rage pondered what to do. If he moved, he'd get cut. If he didn't move, he'd get cut and / or stabbed. And to make matters even worse, something small and heavy smacked him in the back of the head before clanging to the floor below. Trying to heat up the blade until it was white-hot like before, maybe, just maybe he could simply melt his way through the tentacles, even if it meant the third one hit him.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:40 pm
Seeing more rockets, Matthias took to running like a madman. His case dropped open as he did so, revealing an assortment of handgrenades. All partially packed in foam rubber to keep them in place while he moved. The first he picked out was a chaff grenade. A simple toss into the air behind him and it detonated, spreading tiny flecks of aluminum throughout the area. If the rockets were remotely controlled, that would play merry hell with their guidance systems.
While he continued to run, he grabbed another. It was a familiar design now, looking like two halves stuck together around a ring, with "N2" writting on it's side. He gripped each half with his palms awkardly and twisted them, trying desperately to keep the breifcase from banging against his legs as he did so. A small hiss of escaping pressure sounded from the grenade.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 7:59 pm
R66-Y Truly a machine of multi-taskery, it launched another volley of four RPGs. Which is just what James had been waiting for as he lumbered on forwards relentlessly. As soon as he heard that all-too-familiar sound of rockets being fired off within those launch tubes, he quickly flicked open the safety cover on the small explosive with his right hand, then mashed his thumb on the detonator button. Virtually ramming the little ball of C4 into the opening in the duct tape that had been left, James arced his left arm back, bundle in hand, and played basketball. One large hole in the bot's back, maybe full of unspent rockets, maybe not, plus about a pound and a half of C4 strapped to 120 rounds of unspent .45 caliber amunition... well, one can probably imagine what would happen if a bomb went off inside of a person's chest and, at the same time, igniged the powder in 120 bullets that scattered while the shrapnel of 8 metal magazines flew in every which direction. It would hurt. R66-Y Two veered in the direction of Matthias, while one flew towards James, hoping to stop the man from getting any closer. As per usual, they had to arch high into the air, giving the men some time to come up with a counter attack. This, however... wasn't quite what he had been hoping for. With the mischevious little smile still on his face from when he had tossed that bomb, James was hopping on one foot, trying to get his balance back; and in doing so, he took a glance upwards at the rising missiles. "...oh... shabzot..." the man muttered, reaching into his jacket to see what he had that might be able to fix this situation up. Oh, if only he still had a gun. Instead he would have to do with something else. James reached both hands into the opposite breasts of his coat, each pulling out two steel throwing knives held between his fingers. He planted his right foot down to get his balance back, and subsequently cringed in pain when weight was put upon his injury... but it would hurt a lot more if something wasn't done here, fast. He whipped all four knives as fast and as hard as he could at the missile as soon as it started to decend, going right for the nose of it and hoping that they would set off the impact sensor. After that... well... stop drop and get the ******** out of there. James more or less fell backwards, pulling his coat over his head and rolling away from the robot, shouting: "THEY SET US UP THE BOMB!"
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:11 pm
((And here I was worried about coming on too strong.))
The RPGs headed towards Matthias went high, heading straight for the west wall. Ka-boom! The south section of this wall was obliterated, sending reverberations throughout the structure. The magic sealing the doors apparently didn't extend to the rest of the structure. It was good magic, though, since the door nearest the explosion seemed completely untouched.
The grenades headed for James, however, were more on course- not entirely on course, since they weren't immune to chaff grenades, but since he was closer, they were already arched downwards. In his haste, the injured man wasn't able to trigger a premature detonation- but the floor a couple of yards ahead of James, in between him and the robot, was quite capable of causing such a detonation.
The robots tendril-turned-blade found its way into Rage's chest, even as the other blades fused solid from the heat of his sword. Fused thusly, they were brittle, and the robot could no longer control them well.
And, quite suddenly, a muffled explosion could be heard inside of the robot. Instants before, it retracted inside of itself, the blades pulling away from Rage (except for the damaged ones, which were left behind) and the legs giving way to the floor. For an instant, the metal glowed red-hot, then quickly cooled until it was a solid piece.
A piece that cracked open. CR32-B began to climb out- or at least, a close approximation of CR32-B. It was now completely covered in a shiny, metallic fabric instead of its flexible plastic skin. Other than that, it had the exact same build.
It rose from the metal shell, revealing its bottom half. What looked like CR32-B gave way in a jagged line at the torso, and its legs were now those of the metallic shapeshifter Macro 3.
This final form stood at a little under six feet. It looked, almost angrily, in James' direction, before turning back to Rage. Jumping forward, it attempted to knock the injured man's blade away with one hand while punching his chest injury with the other.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:15 pm
On his feet and running again Fischig had reached the limit of his weapons range. Letting forth a burst of fire that roared towards the machine he came closer, shortening the gap between them. He let the stream last a good three-four seconds before easing up to asses the damages.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:29 pm
(( Sorry, posting out of order, but i'm out of time. Last action unless you guys are still going when I get back. There's a slim chance i make it on before 10, we'll see. ))
Matthias ducked and covered his back with his opened breifcase as the explosion went off. Once the smoked had cleared, he reassessed the situation carefully. The new robot was much sleeker than the first, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. Besides, it'd be shame to let this prepped grenade to go waist.
He ran towards the charging robot, waiting until the flamethrower had finished it's assault before making his own move. He flicked the safety catch off and gave the Liquid Nitrogen grenade an underhand toss towards the robot. It skipped on the ground once, not detonating due to being on a timer. Continuing on, it arrived under the robots legs where it came to rest.
"Take cover gentlemen!" He shouted to anyone too close. The grenade erupted, not with an explosion, but a splatter of the sub-zero liquid in every direction. In his experience and from the reports of his own R&D department, Nanite's didn't just hate fire. They hated extreme tempuratures, as their construction left no capability for insulation. The obscenely low tempurature of the N2 could be just as lethal.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:29 pm
A little lightbulb went off in Rage's head as he saw the second robot emerge from the first. It was all a matter of timing at this point - ever since the curse was lifted he almost seemd to thrive on the concept of being hurt and not having to worry a whole lot about it. Taking this into consideration, it might not seem quite as odd as he actually stood still and braced himself for the impact, letting his weapon get pushed, but still holding onto it. In the meantime, he let himself get smashed in the chest, coughing up a fair amount of blood but holding his ground - save, perhaps, for sliding backwards a foot or two. Now... assuming the robot wasn't fast enough....
"Somebody needs a hug!" Yelled Rage, atempting to grab the robot in a frontal bear hug. Being short had it's advantages. Assuming he could grab the robot, he'd firmly lock his arms around the robot's neck and his legs around it's waist... all while delivering the strongest headbutt he possibly could to it.
[Edit]
"Well," said Rage, seeing what he only now recognized as the sort of freeizing liquid that they used on the big boss enemy in movies, "this didn't go as planned." Having no idea what else to do, he took a deep breath and tried to increase his body heat as high as he could. It'd take a ton of energy and it might kill him. But then again, so was just about anything else in the current situation....
((Man... this is, like, the worst post I've ever written. sweatdrop ))
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:32 pm
((You may want to edit it just to take into account what Matthias added. I know Fischig's flamethrower presents little problem for Rage, but I know that the liquid nitrogen does. sweatdrop ))
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:39 pm
(( Yay! Rage is immune to fire!
...but not liquid nitrogen induced explosions... because nitrogen is one ******** flamable substance. sweatdrop ))
James did the whole stop, drop, and roll routine as best he could, trying to put some distance between himself and whatever the hell was about to explode... hopefully not him. When the RPG went off on the floor, however, he certainly felt it. The force was enough to throw him across the floor another couple of feet, but all of the shrapnel and debris from the explosion simply seemed to bounce off of his back with metalic c***ks.
Not one to keep his eye off of the enemy for too long, James flopped himself over again, onto his right side, and looked back at what had become of the robot.
"Heh... hehe... hehehehe..."
The man chuckled, pulling his elbow underneath him to sit up a little bit more, he cringed suddenly and reached down to untwist his right leg, which had bent beneath him and popped one of the twigs he had embedded in the duct tape for support.
He'd get up... in a minute... yeah, he just needed to clear his head...
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:50 pm
((I could just write 'it blew up,' but where's the fun in that?))
This robot had all of the strengths of the four prototypes that had attacked Carter City a week previous. From Arsenal, it had a somehow-endless supply of RPGs, despite the lack of space for such equipment. From CR32-B, it got high processing speeds and a decentralized muscular system that would allow it to take a beating. From Macro 3, it received a versatile outer shell made of nanobots, and from Squadron it received the ability to absorb certain types of energy and release them as desired.
These last two strengths were its downfall.
Normally Macro 3 would have been able to create a shield to protect it from the flames. However, as the flames licked its upper body, the part used for energy absorption, the heat had nowhere to go but down- where James had blown the robot a new one. The heat, instead of being stored, was channeled into the suseptible nanobots below, turning the machine's remaining lower half into a solid piece of metal.
As such, it had no way to avoid the N2 grenade. Furthermore, the fact that Rage was super-heating his own body- once again- Ka-boom!
The shockwave rocked the entire building. How much longer the thing could remain standing was yet to be determined.
What was certain, however, was that the robot was dead.
((I decree that, since Rage is a 'not gonna die' type PC (I think), the explosion sends him flying, half-dead but still alive, across the room. He is teh uber-beat-up.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2005 8:53 pm
Sullivan nearly fell flat on his back as the office floor shook violently. His concentration disrupted, the white flame in his hand disappeared- and the remains of the robot turned to scrap metal, not that it was much more than scrap metal to begin with.
The youth, pale, skinny, and all in black, cursed under his breath, than glared at the four spellcasters beside him. "This is your fault," he muttered, before clenching his hand once more and muttering the magic words.
A large spirit materialized beside him- basically humanoid, but completely lacking in muscle definition, a neck, a face, hands or feet... just a white, rubbery, vageuly-person-shaped thing. Without hesitation it rammed itself against the outside wall, busting a hole in it.
Sparing his companion spellcasters one last derogatory glance, he climbed on the back of his spirit, which proceeded to jump into the outside world.
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