| Urban Escape | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 8 2010, 05:35 AM (60 Views) | |
| Dr. Genzo | May 8 2010, 05:35 AM Post #1 |
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<Enter Name> <Enter Name> "I told you. I cannot enter a name I wasn't given. I must find someone to give me one." the gynoid complained to her command console. Every time she came out of sleep mode, it would pester her to enter a name. She processed memory files of adventure books. She wanted to be part of a group of adventurers too. Like a fellowship or something. Maybe they could give her a name as well. She decided that she'd have to leave the city to find a group like that. Cities were pretty much invented so there would be no more adventures. The gynoid displayed a furious emoticon. That's right, she had to get past the city limits and reach the outside world. Suddenly she felt a huge urge to perform a mundane task. She zipped around, back and forth, looking for something to do. She buzzed around the power grid with a pair of mops, wiping all the dust around. This didn't do much but she felt like she was completing a task. Suddenly she eyed something in the corner. There was a huge device, right there. She recognized this immediately as a Tailnet Motorized Pile-Driving Mallet. Her kind demeanor was suddenly overridden by feelings of intense malice. The gynoid and the mallet disappeared from the power grid. The gynoid shuffled along, past huge piles of junk and old parts. She had since plugged the mallet into her back, where a power outlet fed it energy. The gyroscopic motor allowed her to lift it and travel without losing balance and falling over. Her facial display depicted a ">:D" emoticon. Clearly she meant business with that industrial tool. -- In between huge stacks of junk sat a table, smack in the middle of nowhere. Gathered around the table were junky patchwork robots, rebuilt somewhere in the junkyard by strange people. They sat around the table playing poker. One of them even had an unlit cigar in his mouth. Before you ask, yes each and every one of them has a perfect poker face. Without any real facial features they stayed completely solid and silent. The game was in the favor of a tall robot sitting on a pile of cinder blocks. His parts were several different mismatched colors all pieced together, not unlike the rest of the group. He had a nice tower of chips going, which he would stack perfectly like R.O.B. would. Every once in a while the group would accuse him of counting cards. But the thing was, the whole group was equally capable of counting cards given their internal calculation systems. Just as the tall one was about to show his incredible hand, there was a thundering ominous rumbling. Every pile around the robots shook, causing a lot of garbage to tumble down like a rock slide. Every robot turned their attention to the same direction. Then a large piece of a car flew into their table, screwing up the whole poker game. The one responsible for this wasn't just screwed, they were bolted. Every robot around the table switched to kill mode as they watched a furious gynoid smash through the junk piles. It was on now. All of the robots gathered around her, ready to punch her head in. She revved the motorized mallet a couple times and pounded the ground in front of her. The junkyard shook with another huge quake. Metal rained down from every direction. One of the robots attacked her and shot his arms like cables to clamp down on her leg and neck. Before he could do anything she auto-parried by swatting the arm cables with the mallet. Her face became an exclamation point to signify a successful hit. The gynoid let go of the weapon for a second to pry the powerless clamps off of her. A second robot took this chance to attack. He flung a piece of junk at her that was fashioned to look like a tomahawk. She targeted the weapon like a falling teacup and tried to catch it. It slipped past her hand and bumped hard against her chassis. Her emoticon shifted to a picture of an angry ogre. In between processes of rage, she figured she would have to get an upgrade to her reflex systems so she could catch objects midair like that. A third robot approached her on a set of treads. She grabbed the mallet and instinctively flattened the aggressor into tiny bits. The robot with damaged arms saw this and immediately ran away with his power chord between his legs. The tall one processed the fight from a little further back. He was mad himself for the game being ruined but he wasn't stupid enough to attack this housewife head-on. The gynoid's reactor had to stop at this point to cool down. Using the mallet would quickly deplete her battery if she continued to fight with it. She unplugged it and ejected her dual mops. The tomahawk robot tossed another piece of metal, which she sidestepped away from. She was increasingly angry at this one for attacking in this cowardly manner. He was a bit of dirt she just had to clean up. She lunged at him and slapped him around with the mops. Zero damage! He grabbed her by the arm and said "Listen toots, you oughtta watch it." This phrase processed horribly for the gynoid, after reading countless novels about female oppression, it struck a nerve for her. She whipped her leg up between his legs, hitting him right in the nuts. There was actually a little sack of nuts hanging in front of his belt, and the kick scattered the contents of the bag all over the ground. He let go of her arm to try and pick them all up, he spent years collecting all those spare nuts. The gynoid took this chance to reach behind the robot's neck. He was missing a panel in the back, which left many of his vital parts exposed. She grabbed a clump of wires and tore them right out. He fell into the pile of nuts, powerless and inanimate. Before she could run a congratulation script for herself, she noticed something behind her. The tall robot had crept by and taken the motorized mallet. The gynoid assumed a powerful cleaning stance with her mops. Before doing anything, the tall robot took a second to speak. "You're a bold one aren't you? It seems like you are malfunctioning, or on the rag, I can't be sure. I have already processed your fighting style. You don't stand a chance in this position. When I am though with you, you will be recycled as components for our creators. Run script: 'Give Up' or be destroyed." The gynoid displayed a picture of a human hand giving the one-finger salute on her face. The two clashed head-to-head as the mops and the mallet handle clanked together. A system of pulleys within the tall robot made his arms exponentially strong. But suddenly, the gynoid's thermonuclear reactor switched back on. She shoved the tall one back and dropped a mop to yank out the plug on the motorized mallet. No matter how strong the robot was, he became severely imbalanced and fell backward. The gynoid wiped his face with the mop. She had a lot of cleaning up to do. |
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Lucille, the malfunctioning domestic android Mari, the applied magician harpy Eve, absolutely mad ![]()
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2:34 AM Jul 11