Description: Crazy Zhin thinks he can win if he can get an organized fighting match going in his shop to help draw in customers and the like. HitBit, Inc. seems keen to let him invest heavily in all the future crazy low price sales he's got lined up. Alisa Boskonovitch and one Howard Rust, Jr., the competitors in question, get wrapped up in merchandise matters of a completely different kind. Bad ideas and uncorrected misconceptions run rampant, and in the end, someone has to deposit a damages claim anyawy.
CRAZY ZHIN'S DISCOUNT WAREHOUSE -- 10:00 PM LOCAL TIME
Crazy deals! All things at a discount, in bulk! Even the warehouse proper was made in discount, so you know the deals are for real. Just don't mind the leaky roof, or the lack of proper air conditioning, or the arguing between Crazy Zhin and HitBit Inc. representatives about ensuring a proper amount of space for fighters, spectators, and technicians alike... who have had to make due by setting up around the stacked (overstocked, undersold) merchandise in very creative ways.
As for at least one of our opponents in this promotional battle...
"This is good." One Howard Rust, Jr. - unfortunately, the World Champion of the Circuit of Champions - seems to like this arrangement! And so, the match may proceed without incid--
"Wonder how it'd work if I wore like ten or twenty of them." ...Does this count as an incident?
Long story short, just around the time the match starts, describing Jr. in his current wear can be summed up succinctly as "uncertain where HitBits end and actual human underneath begins," which is way over the initial new idea of 'ten or twenty' of them.
Howard trots about under physical duress, his flexibility and overall agility hampered by being all but buried under just about all the HitBits that could be appropriated on short notice from around northern Southtown's shopping centers.
"Yep. This'll do," he seems entirely unconcerned even as he struggles to draw the pipe out of the toolbelt pocket, spinning around comically as he loses balance to do this.
The pipe is also covered in HitBits.
Every visible tool on his toolbelt is swarming with them, all of which rustle and shake as the drawn pipe comes short of knocking over a string of knockoff repl-- historically valuable vases at a crazy price! (A fact the one and only Crazy Zhin vocally reminds everyone of as he nudges them back.)
Crazy Zhin, clad in that cheap and run-down suit as always, wonders if there was ever a time he was not at risk of having any of his numerous business ventures become collateral damage to some big sponsored brawl. (This has never stopped him from putting unwise amounts of money into advertisement.)
The HitBit representatives overseeing this battle seem largely on board with Jr.'s latest ill-thought idea.
Approaching the closest thing to an open space in the center of the warehouse, Rust Jr.'s gait is akin to humanity's earlier thoughts and ideas of a robot's appearance from a many number of decades ago, all stiff and inarticulate.
There are many bad ideas concentrated into one space this evening.
Absolutely in comparison to Rust Jr, Alisa isn't wearing a HitBit. Infact it seems like there is no HitBit on her. At all. Taking olace in the warehouse, Alisa most certainly arrived without incident and is more than easy to see coming, though less as impressively questionable as Rust Jr. Really, while it is not about taste, there is a level of surprise that greets Alisa when she watches the living pile of HitBits waddle around to the battlefield.
"Oh! Hello!" It becomes apparent where her hitbit is. That is to say, the device IS IMPLANTED INTO HER EYE. At least one of them. The Hitbit will stream what she sees, and she will stream as long as she is standing!
"I did not plan on fighting that many HitBits at once, but now that it seems my opponent is a HitBit, I am worried!" She declares, her skipping coming closer as she wiggles a finger at it, leaning forwards. "My, are you okay? Are you programmed to be part of combat like this?" She wonders aloud, though she comes to an incorrect conclusion, and nods her head. "If you are, then I will take it easier! It does not make sense to have them on your weapon though, unless you are planning to use the various visual inputs to change your offense as you attack! If so, that is very good foresight that is being provided by your creator!" Alisa declares, nodding, as she skips backwards.
"But I must ask, are you ready?" It does not seem she believes it can speak. "Please, beep once if you are, or twice if you are not!" Backing up, Alisa cartwheels back, not releasing any of her ROBOTIC POWERS just yet, and could basically be seen as a normal, very oddly colored human! Not in skin, of course, but in costume.
Not too abnormal in fighting contests, actually!
"I forget the purpose, but I was requested to take part in this competition - so I shall. Please keep your eyes open, all one thousand of them!" She requests.
The HitBit Man - which is totally an awesome superhero name and one hopes someone other than Rust Jr. here does something like this - staggers, stumbles, and lurches along about the (very) recently cleaned hard, carpetless concrete floor. He has problems turning to Alisa to meet eye-to-eye without being unbalanced by the mass of merchandise that should by all rights be crushing him.
"You bet!" He chimes in, knocking over an empty pile of cardboard boxes that are, incidentally, being sold as cardboard box accessories for the actual product they hold. (Box sold seperately, so Crazy Zhin ensures you save money on real product! Additional parts also sold separately, like copies of the instructions...)
"Technology's really something special these days, eh?" He narrates. "I hear one can give you a whole lotta numbers on the spot without having to wait at a doc's for a physical... heck, look at you! Comes even in a monocle!"
...Yes, a monocle. He thinks that's a monocle on her. That's probably for the best. The HitBit technicians, the ones less wrapped up in the novelty of how these two approach this matter, sort of shrug at one another about the questionable implementation of the tech on question on both ends, but long as they work as designed and advertised...
"Ready, yep!" He strikes a pose, lifting a leg up as though part of a horrible butchernig of the classic crane stance martial arts pose, but he gets so unbalanced just by standing on one leg that he completely falls over on his face.
How he manages to get back up at all within the span of ten seconds is an exercise best left for an outside reader as the clock winds down to the inevitable 'FIGHT!' announcement as one of the lead cameramen - laying expertly atop a pile of dressers without actual shelves - signal to the rest. Start rolling. Start fighting.
Crazy Zhin is furiously going over the contract for some of the fine print as he nervously watches some other stack of merchandise topple over in the corner from audience members being unwisely packed into the warehouse.
COMBATSYS: Rust has started a fight here.
The man of many HitBits staggers and stumbles, wiggles and wumbles, all around the warehouse! Still, like a robotic zombie, he refuses to stay down! He can either tell the time, or the status, of the entire battle! Why, it is simply pre-posterous that the being before her could not be some degree of robotic creation! Alisa can detect life, but perhaps it is FALSE life, brought to life by FALSE EVIL SCIENCE. The future is a dangerous, and scary, place!
Yet Alisa is part of the dangerous and scary future, especially as Rust knocks over boxes of cardboard. Alisa is silent for the most part, stunned to silence as she tries to process an acceptable response to such a statement! "You still should go to the doctor, while impressive they are, only a doctor can tell you if you are healthy! Or a repairman." Alisa states, clearly, "Though self diagnostics are usually 99.99999999% correct, as long as internal systems are not malfunctioning!"
Striding forth, she blinks, the monocle like fit bit doing the same. Not that it really is one. "Oh? Is that what you call it?" It is obviously not. To those who know!
With Rust posing, lifting a leg up from the crane stance, Alisa doesn't seem to be worried. No, she is anything but! "Oh? Since you are ready as well, I'll begin. Combat systems online!" Alisa cheerfully states as she spins around once - literately in a one legged spin - before coming to a stop, arms spread.
Then, there is the FIGHT. Rust is on his face. Yet shortly after, Rust is BACK on his FEET. With his ability to stand questionable.
Which is, of course, a terrible thing to behold to a living, fighting robot! While not super, Alisa leaps forwards towards Rust as she almost seems to glide against the ground for a brief moment, body twisting low and down as she comes up, elbow spinning towards his right side, heading to a hard left!
COMBATSYS: Alisa brings her battle systems online.
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Rust 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Alisa
COMBATSYS: Alisa successfully hits Rust with Single Boot.
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Rust 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Alisa
The present is a colorful, and often stupid, place, especially with men of ideas and enthusiasm but... very little self-awareness and editorial oversight, as is unfolding before everyone upon multiple levels.
The way the Probably Maybe Not A HitBit Robot person takes a few steps back, one might be inclined to believe there is a legitimate attempt at avoiding Alisa's gravity-defying charge as the elbow strikes firmly into one of the (many) cameras attached to his side, and the hard left is all that's needed to shove him over onto his back with the expected grunts and sputters.
He seems more like a helpless turtle on his back, not that he appears to emotionally register his encumbrance disadvantage as anything other than the advance of science, technology, and fun toys.
"Hyep!" He grunts as he lifts up his legs, struggling to even properly bend them to get enough strength to kick himself back up. That he manages to even still move them with any degree of force that could constitute legitimate injury is... something to his credit? Maybe?
The audience on the internet is probably enjoying the novelty of just how many different cameras there are to feed into. (The third-highest one on his right thigh, inexplicably, is proving the most popular among the first round battles.)
COMBATSYS: Alisa fails to interrupt Light Kick from Rust with Dynamic Range.
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Rust 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Alisa
It doesn't take long. The robotic form of Alisa, though highly UNrobotic from first glance, ducks, managing to slam the elbow straight into Rust as is shoved onto his back. With the quick strike, Alisa finds herself with enough data, as well foresight, to predict what this clearly 'advanced' machine would do next. Especially when it is stuck on it's back.
Oh yes. Very advanced.
Yet Rust rises above, proving he is durable as ever, lifting up and then lifting his feet to strike out towards Alisa. The success/failure ratio falls heavily onto one side, predictions ran and calculated, and Alisa dips hard, kicking off the ground as her jets ready themselves. Or would, that is.
Instead, the kick, as feeble as it is, ends up with Alisa smashing herself against it. That it would get up /and/ assault at once manages to overcome chance and prediction, Alisa sending those of her followers, watching from the hitbit live stream via her EYE, as she tumbles towards the ground, rolling a bit, before rising once more. "Damage sustained. Threat is capable of overcoming internal armor with ample force. You are doing great, don't give up just because it's a bit hard!" She notes, to the clearly less advanced robot, "That caused an appreciable amount of injury!"
Kicking himself up would not be putting it right. Kicking himself forward, given he throws all the bulk of his HitBit outfitting with just as much weight as his recovering gesture sees him instead blindly(?) charge forward as his steps are now attempting to compensate with how off-balance he is under the weight of his HIGHLY MERCHANDISABLE SUPER BATTLE ARMOR that is not at all a triple-digit count of HitBits layered haphazardly over one another.
The staggering takes a form of a perfect pirouette and dance through the entire aisle of glassware that now stands between the two of them. Crazy Zhin almost has a spleen attack. (His heart is already being overrun.)
With the grace of a deflating, crashing blimp, his bulk squeezes just on through the compliments and vocal read-outs of Alisa as he spins and turns facing backwards to her.
"Science is never easy! Sure. Lots of bumps. On the road." He is audibly breathing to catch his breath, as though even carrying that much has started to wind him this early into their great battle, as he raises the HitBit-covered pipe (or pipe-cored HitBits?) to the ceiling in what should be a dramatic and amazing pose in an attempt to center himself.
He hits a ceiling fan dead on. One of the blades is sheared off and sent careening towards Alisa at dangerous speed.
Crazy Zhin forgot about the recall on the ceiling fans made by those food blender folks a while back. Then he remembers that's how they even got in stock in the first place. So, no problem? (Aside from destroyed merchandise. That is a problem.)
COMBATSYS: Alisa blocks Rust's Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Rust 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Alisa
With Rust dancing dangerously through the store of Crazy Zhin's glassware aisle, Alisa composes herself, rising to her feet as he squeezes through and on by, facing .. away.
The stranger, then, tries to talk with her. With Very unclear purpose! "Of course not, that is why it requires years of work, study and workstudy!" Completely different than the other two focuses. As Rust raises his hands to the sky, carrying his pipe, the heavens react in such a way that Alisa must wonder if it is not some sort of powerful energy force at work, based on readouts.
Readouts that warn her that the ceiling fan is suddenly missing a blade. The location of the blade is found just in time! Just in time for Alisa to raise an arm. In brutal fashion, the ceiling blade slams into Alisa's arm and embeds itself into her arm, length wise. Raising it, she wonders, twisting her arm this way and that so that those who have HITBIT vision from Alisa can see that yes, there is a blade embedded along her arm.
Alisa falls back into stance.
"Acknowledged - the enemy is quite skilled at using the environment for offense and defense." Alisa's statement is followed by the glasswear directly behind her being shattered as her back literately explodes! No, wait, that's just thrusters popping out from her back. "Hmmph, that's pretty smart of you, to do something like that! But if you're going to play that way, I'll have to keep stock of what's in stock!" The glass clatters, "Minus one dinner glass set." She reports.
Robotic lenses, not on FitBit eye, snap from object to object - but for a moment, stall! It's taking quite a long time to register EVERY. SINGLE. FITBIT on Rust's form.
Will it be enough time!?
COMBATSYS: Alisa calculates her next move.
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Rust 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Alisa
Due to the, um, generous amount of HitBit sensors attached to this man, it's difficult to pinpoint exact vital readings - the technicians at least put priority on the very first set they put on to be carefully marked, but this has not stopped an arbitrary number of numbers (ha!) from flooding everyone's HUDs at home. The numbers that HitBit would claim to be the "correct" ones don't... seem very flattering.
The far too many HitBits mask in logic what comes plain to a naked human eye - this man really should not be fighting this encumbered, and yet...
"Whoop! What'd I hit?" He tries to brush a strap away from his face, but it's difficult enough to bend a shoulder, an elbow, a wrist... even a finger towards him, plastic stiffly resisting bending as a testament to the construction of this swarm of new technology being liberally applied.
Half-blind, he at least turns to keep an eye upon Alisa checking him out with the appropriate and expected amount of stumbling and tripping over one's own feet that from this point out can go on without saying. The fact he turns around at all to begin with might force another new calibration on her part.
"Smart? I went to M.I.T.!" This is a fact that reflects poorly on someone, somewhere, somehow. It is a bit of uncharacteristic pride, going by the usual national stereotypes. "But don't worry about it, eh? I mean, you gotta apply that stuff to the real world, too, like--"
He cocks back his left arm - easily discerned as his dominant hand, or perhaps his dominant HitBit-clad appendage, at this point - bending himself back cartoonishly in wake of all the challenges to his flexibility. His sole visible eye seems to intently focus to the extent someone of his, um, mental bandwidth appears able.
The resulting forward thrust would be applause-worthy in its precision, speed, and power had he not just shoot right past Alisa in the resulting lunge thanks to tripping on a stiffened ankle - it ends up much more akin to a tackle.
COMBATSYS: Alisa interrupts Random Strike from Rust with Rocket Punch.
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Rust 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Alisa
Where does man begin and fitbit end?! DOES Fitbit end?! DOES Fitbit end?! DOES FITBIT END!? Alisa's systems repeat themselves a few times as she tries, and tries against to discern exactly what is going on with Rust and his crazy make-up! What is his secrets!? Alisa attempts to locate them. Yet she cannot. So deep in search is she that she doesn't notice Rust failing to approach her, focusing more on trying to understand whatever it is that faces her on the opposite side! Yet it is with this that Rust finally turns around, declaring just how smart he actually is!
Real world application. Yes. That is what Alisa's program reacts to.
In this case, the real world application involves Rust's arm pulling back and then bends forwards, putting his weight as well as the weight of the arm covered in fitbits to bear! Alisa's systems finish their boot, snap upwards and - the fist goes wide. The BULK of HitbitRust does not.
Yet it is with one fist that Alisa slams forwards into Rust's gut as he impacts into her, thrusters firing to keep her and him up and from them being tackled over, feet skidding backwards a bit, knocking over antique tamogatchis, killing at least a dozen in the process. A digital massacre.
"I did not, however, I have been programmed to be bright! As necessary." It is declares, just as the fist, under it's own power, fires as she pushes back, coming up with enough force to force Rust up and back onto his feet, spreading distance between the two!
Between soft, fleshy, out-of-shape dad bod gut and rocket-like robot fist, there is HitBit. The HitBit does not shudder. It does not crumple. The HitBit successfully Toughs Out!! the flying fist. It may now be attempting to Quick Throw the fist by... holding onto it. However, this is not a story about a singular HitBit device that fights against the odds, so let us pay this exchange no further mind.
The part where Rust Jr. flies through the air like a big lumpy pillow in a slumber party - hey, look, he just glanced past the glassware section again! - over to the alternative pillow filling section that proudly boasts the use of '100% post-consumer recycled military explosive shrapnel.'
Rising haphazardly, his HitBit armor now has menacing spikes of former soccer field landmine detonations and, more metaphorically, all sorts of questions as to where exactly Crazy Zhin is sourcing his products from! Also, there is now a chink in the HitBit armor in his gut for Alisa to punch again and again, probably a fresh breath of relief in the countless calculations she has to make in deciding optimal force application.
"Sometimes, you just got to feel instead of think! Like pain." He laughs. In pain. "You can't think pain... very well... that's... that's more of a feel. Feeling thing. Ooogh." There is a great distance between the two now. In any reasonable situation, one would slowly and carefully close the gap.
He laboriously bends his right arm inward and probably attempts to make that gesture with two fingers the ninja is stereotypically associated with. This is an educated guess. This is also a warning that he calls upon talents that he is not in the best shape to move in.
Especially when he somehow gets enough bend in a knee to leap forward and stagger over shelves with invisible frames (strings for suspension sold separately), dive head-first across receiver phones from the nineties, nearly side-swipe Crazy Zhin by accident as he swings his left arm out to put on the front of maintaining balance when all pretense of this left the building long ago, tip-toe atop tanks of artificial h20-free water (...really?), and proceed to faceplant in a spiral towards Alisa that the universe at this point is throwing its hands up and saying that he's kinda-sorta doing that spinning uppercut thing in all but diving at her from tripping over himself, and leaving it at that.
That aforementioned thigh cam is still vying for top 3 overall views, somehow.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Alisa with Cement Mixer.
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Rust 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Alisa
The HITBIT monster manages to be launched away, flying as he does. Alisa is, for the moment, able to hold her own. This does not continue this way, however, as Rust rises without a care in the world, even if the armoring has a multitude of weaponry that make him not a good target to approach. Without a word, Alisa watches, sensors whirring as she pays rapt attention to the result of the offense. Rust making it very clear that you sometimes need to feel pain over thinking, Alisa's head does not move - rather, her eyes stare at him empty, soulless, for a moment.
Slowly and carefully obviously does not win in this case.
ust leans forwards, staggering forwards as Alisa moves to leap over him, 'wings' firing as she intends to leap over the massive spinning pile of Rust, but it seems like that is not to be, for she moves to kick off furniture that is stationed nearby only for her weight to cause the clearly first rate wood to give way and collapse, causing the thrusters to push Alisa straight into the thrashing brash Rust.
Sucked into the pile of FitBits and Rust as he manages to take out nearly everything in his way, Alisa is one of the more expensive things that suffer within the catastrophe. Threatening to suffer severe damage, Alisa's legs hook out onto a solid stone statue, arms grasping anything and everything in the pile as the robotic thrusters on the thighs attempt to slow the Rustball down.
Only then would her entire body begin to spin, waist up, causing Rust and the FitBits to, possibly, be thrown into the wall without any additional words!
"I have sensed severe damage. I do not need to feel additional to know my systems will react negatively to the additional presence of greater damage. However, I will be more than happy, since this is a fight, to inflict additional upon you! You are doing very well, but I will be changing strategies!" The declaration is clear.
Her body snaps to the correct front and back direction, as well, at the end, as she slides off the statues.
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Alisa's Medium Throw.
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Rust 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alisa
Crazy Zhin gestures with his hands in a refusing manner. No, no, no wall balls. Nooooo.
He has to duck out of the way of the LEGENDARY BATTLE MACHINE HITBITBOT as he sticks into the wall and... no, more by luck, he just seems to stick into the wall. The pieces of shrapnel that coat him now all but embed him into the wall, suspending him upside down. On one hand, they cushioned the collision. On the other...
"Eh? You're standing on the wall, now?" He tries to stroke his chin with an inarticulate everything. It takes every bit of power he has to get his right hand to do this, what of his gaze visible is left squinting. "Hm. You bet, that is a change of strategy right there at," he mutters, "standin' right there on the wall. Right there! Like gravity isn't even a thing. A tricky foe!"
He continues to narrate stupid things to himself hardly worth committing to print, other than this gem.
"Maybe I should get up off the floor," he says, still stuck to the wall as he struggles to sit up, to just... bend, at all. What of his face is visible goes so red that the HitBits start to have a bunch of meters spike... he manages to 'sit up.'
"Okay... my legs. Next, my le--" His additional spikes lose their hold on the wall and he collapses into another new HeapBit on the ground.
"Hey! Now I'm stuck to the wall too!"
COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.
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Rust 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alisa
It's not surprising that Rust manages to get himself into the sticky pickle! Especially with Crazy Zhin possibly not having cleaned it - after all, what if he threw something out that is art? Or actually a small bit of a cheap piece of machinery that needs that single bit to work!? Why, Crazy Zhin would be crazy! The customer has to buy everything! But now, instead, the customer will be taking home...
Memoribilia of this fight!
Smashed bits, crashed items, all of that would simply be sold to the highest bidder! Of course, with Alisa no longer stuck to the wall, or in the ball, the Heap of Bit is currently in a 0 state. All of them. They must all become 1(ones). "Recommended course of action, unite and become one." Alisa nods, smiling, "Because if you and yours do not become one, then you will fall together." Pause, "And stay stuck to the wall and inactive!"
Which is why Alisa skips over towards the heap of Bits that Rust has become.. "I am capable of standing on any object I desire due to the ability to fly. Did your designers not make you with such an ability?" She questions as she grasps for Rust and then, with little to no fanfaire, aims to YANK him out of the wall.
It will not be pleasant, for she is a killer robot.
COMBATSYS: Alisa successfully hits Rust with Quick Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Rust 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Alisa
It takes a little doing, but it's a great time for backstory talk.
"Nope! Trained ninja. Handyman. Potty." Beat. He wiggles fingers in some failed attempt to raise a finger. "If you asked me, proud of the third one, had trouble with that one until I was s--"
Mercifully, he is silenced by the powerful, helpful yank putting a stop to this horrible line of thought about the sorts of things people share about their lives before the world at large and... yes, let's get on with the whole 'killer robot yanking him out of the wall' thing and never speak of this again. Okay?
Okay. Yes. The whole being yanked out deal.
It ends up being more like 'hurled across the warehouse' again - hey, look, he missed the glasswares once more! - and comes to a full stop somewhere around the lines of 'PRE-SPRAYPAINTED X MARKS - SUPPLY OWN TRAP.' Oh, come on, that's not really a thing, is it? Well, let's move on from the continued suspension of disbelief as to what's being stocked here.
Rust Jr. helps himself up by some hand-wavey means, wielding the Stick o' Hitbits within the narrow range of reliable articulation his arm has, armed by so many singular HitBits that continue to pour out information - vital statistics to the extent they can when they are all practically interfering with one another - as he takes a dramatic step forward (okay, another stumble).
"First two points, I could... I could show ya. I mean. We're in a fight, yep. Gotta say. These Hitbit things are amazing! They don't get in the way of anything." ...No comment.
To his credit, he gets the idea to use the buried pipe as a means to boost himself up when he gets within approximate striking range. What would normally, going by an estimated guess, become a midair two-kick combo ends up looking more like a mid-air dropkick with legs that flail like they don't know where the ground is.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Alisa with Girder Sway.
- CRAZY Hit! -
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Rust 1/------=/=======|=======\====---\1 Alisa
"While I will track your life story for purposes I am not sure, if we were to listen to them all, the members who are watching will not get their moneys worth." It is such a simple statement. "I have found through simple data analysis if that were to happen, no matter the number of fit-bits, the ratings will continue to plummet until you must retire, FitBot." Alisa states!
"I do not want you to be retired, so though this may hurt, it will be with the best of intentions! After all, I am merely required to fight you, not destroy you!"
With Rust missing the glassware, Alisa continues to follow his path forwards, towards the X marks - and then manages to stand! It is a step forwards to be very proud of, clearly, one that Rust, of the Jr division, is most certainly a part of. "Yes, I currently have one installed! My optical sensors are working perfectly fine! Even though it adds a few milliseconds of latency delay, it is barely noticable." A bald faced lie. She is a computer, after all.
"You would show me?" She asks, hand raised in an odd stance! Except the buried pipe is used to boost himself up as the thrusters once more finds tragic failure as the kick ends up slamming into Alisa's thruster as he kicks out rather rapidly and without aim! Despite that, the rest of the drop-kick manages to clip into her, slamming her down hard as the glass shatters about her, adding to the sharp objects stuck into Alisa count.
There is a poll now, with Alisa's sight showing the sharp objects as she tracks them. Certainly on the ropes, her systems are not doing well!
"Engaging self-repair mode." Is the single declaration as Alisa kicks off, and up, as the shattered mirror, around her neck, provides her no assistance! Nor does it need to as Alisa pirroutte's, just as Rust had, with her foot suddenly growing a thruster, aimed towards his mid-section!
"I reccomend that you demonstrate it sooner than later, as a continued duration of the fight will only enable me to adapt more efficiently!" Alisa cheerfully remarks, finding the room full of junk rapidly causing her difficulty in movements!
COMBATSYS: Rust dodges Alisa's Medium Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Rust 1/------=/=======|=======\====---\1 Alisa
No one involved is coming out of this one looking particularly sunny. Least of all, Crazy Zhin, who has gone so pale that he looks like he's never seen the sunlight in his natural life (or maybe his unnatural life).
In the wake of his almost sad but ultimately effective jumping kick maneuver, he's left on the ground again as a lump of inflexible technology affixed to a moving, squirming mass of flesh who seems more like he's enjoying the objective helplessness in a subjectively skewed manner.
It's hard to tell if it really is a conscious effort on his part that he somehow manages to avoid the bethrustered foot thrusting at his... be... front? To say he's probably just squirming out of sheer luck might be charitable given his circumstances.
"What? Retire?! What? I'm only forty-five!" Alas, the HitBot is past his prime. But yet, he's currently the-- oh, forget it, that's just going to churn out an endless parade of logic errors at this juncture.
"I still feel like I'm twenty-something young! Like I could stretch my arm waaaay back and make myself into a donut," he demonstrates (very poorly) by now waving the pipe in his left hand across where Alisa's legs might or might not be - it's kind of a wonder he can even reach her at all here, let alone struggle and shudder with that striking arm with any sort of harmful force.
He's even pressing his tongue back up against his upper lip and sucking in breath - wearing all this stuff is tiring, hot, and super-educational to everyone tuning in to all the attached HitBit data, being a writhing mass of combative wiggling across the broken, shattered, ruined fruits of discount warehouse labor that is Crazy Zhin's attempt to turn profit on whatever the hell a lot of this once was.
"Sorry, demonstrating as fast as I can!" Still wiggling that pipe around low. He's getting an A+ for effort, there.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Alisa with Foundation Layer.
* Attack Of Opportunity! *
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Rust 1/------=/=======|=======\======-\1 Alisa
"Error." Is the response from Alisa, once Rust makes his response! "Based on your current scans, you are between 1 or 100 years old. I am unable to determine your current schema and must assume you have not been updated recently." Yet that is a faulty assumption, as though Alisa attempts, once more, to activate her thrusters to pull her out and away from the assault, HitBot Rust manages to wave the pipe where her legs are, the wiggling enough to dismantle the super-weapon girl? that had been developed in an attempt to bring back the daughter he loved.
And now, she is getting the pipe.
Slammed repeatedly as she attempts to evade, though it seems more like a wiggle, pieces and parts of Alisa are growing more and more damaged as the battle persists! Even as Alisa attempts to prevent the assault, there does not seem to be a silver lining, save for the success that HitBot gains. "You are demonstrat-" Thwack, "ing it flawlessly, and I will" Thwack, "Pass on this information." Her response entails, smiling despite the absolute horror that her face may be after the strikes, sharp objects and perhaps the pipe, is embedded there.
Finally, she slams backwards, thrusters slamming her hard against the wall in a rather brisk stop, things falling off the wall, pottery and pictures, to slam into her head and cause further damage.
Yet eventually she rises, body slower, stiff, though reserves almost finishing their recovery.
"Acknowledged. I will demonstrate the same."
Which is of course why she takes off, skimming along the ground to slam into HitBot, both fists held out, and drag him and his hitbits across the ground, her not even touching the ground at the very end!
COMBATSYS: Rust endures Alisa's Combo Grapple.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Rust 1/---====/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Alisa
There seems to be something of a disconnect with reality in regards to just how absurd the situation has become - but some would argue, this is Jr.'s life almost every day. Well, he doesn't always get rocketed along the warpath of warehouse ruin in the grasp of a flying robot girl, but...
He makes entertaining (to the home audience) vocalizations as his body rakes up against just about every uncomfortable thing along the way. (Thumbtack carpets?! Is that real furnishing, seriously?) He violently shakes and shudders in her grasp. The HitBits cling on for dear life, and may or may not be cutting off circulation to some of his limbs with how tightly they become affixed under pressure such as this!
His pipe is affixed - he can't pull it out of there. Struggling visibly to move his other arm, he reaches down low around waist-level, where he's going to be grabbing at... more HitBits? No! The toolbelt, which is already well infested in those things, but moving on!
Just at the verge of being released - where he happens to be launched off a FUTURISTIC 2017 HOVERBOARD ACTION RAMP (0 money down 6 month payment plan available limited quantities act now to avoid temporal police investigation) that he may see her clouded-vision-to-clouded-vision, where might take better appropriate stock of the unnatural appearance of her injuries and odd choice of actions...
With the deftness of his proclaimed combat art standards, he gets enough wrist movement to grab at the toolbelt, and... he doesn't get just a handful of tools (and hitBits), instead the whole thing coming off as he flings it at the narrow space between the both of them in midair, his one physical link otherwise being the embedded pipe he still holds onto.
An object of great sentimentalism takes flight, gliding across the air between an upside-down man who is probably going to land on his head and a flying robot girl. The toolbelt of the legendary Howard Rust, Sr., home of a countless number of tools for the trade (though, does a man need that many of the same screwdriver?), the ends flapping upwards as though the form of a majestic bird... being shot in mid-air and spiraling helplessly to the ground, the mass of time-worn fabric and numerous tools being an envoy for the latest in botched attack maneuvers that (probably) somehow convey the original intent well enough.
As if Alisa didn't already have enough on her body, and maybe mind, there's this nonsense to contend with next.
So, thrown toolbelt. Just another step in a comedy of errors...
COMBATSYS: Alisa dodges Rust's Tools For The Job.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Rust 1/---====/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Alisa
As the Hitbits cling to hitbot, as the young do to their mother, Rust's movements are too encased in hitBits to get a read on. Especially as he reaches down towards his belt. Alisa, meanwhile, has leaped backwards, her body slowly but surely recouperating from the previous damage. "Rerouting main power-source for system repair. Reserves have been replensihed!" Alisa cheerfully states, coming down to land nearby Rust and away from CRAZY Zhin, who will likely be facedown in a bottle of zin, or jack, by the end of this.
Somehow, the FURTURISTIC HOVERBOARD RAMP is just there, perfectly placed to assist? Rust! While skyborn, he has a relevation, or two, perhaps. To see the damage done to her, the actions, the movements! All of it may make it a clear indicator that Alisa is /not human/. A shocker to be certain! Yet it is made no less clear whenRust suddenly sends a massive torrent of tools towards her, ends flipping about randomly as they are sent towards her sensitive faux-flesh and metallic finish interior. Yet there are plent of fitbits, meanwhile!
Thrusters, somewhat damaged, still work for short bursts! As they are thrown, it sends her .. to the ground, a burst of energy that would cause her to skid down and under Rust as he throws the weaponry down, down towards her in a torrent! With a rush to the left, she spins about, grapping a pole and bending it from the force of motion, raising both arms towards him as she skids underneath. Underneath, despite the belt managing to obscure her vision momentarily, which she cannot catch.
Because she is without arms! Why? As they are currently flying up towards Rust, intent on impact if they would catch him before he could escape her aim!
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Alisa's Double Rocket Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Rust 1/--=====/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Alisa
Storefronts just have all the luck in hosting big amazing organized fighting ventures. Perhaps Crazy Zhin will have more luck with the Secondhand Restaurant venture if the HitBit folks wiggle out of the contract explicitly saying they'd pay for damages...
Two rocket punches, right, let's deal with that. Rather, let's let that soft opening in his HitBit armor where one of them clocks him fair and square, a resounding echo of air being rushed right out of his throat on top of his lack of traction, being caught in midair and all. He twists, he turns...
The other rocket punch ends up being caught (very likely accidentally) in his free hand, as his back hits the ground with a thud and a cloud of dust. He stops to look at the balled-up fist that will probably make its way into his nose if he lets go. He strains to bend his head back to look up to Alisa, then to the fist, then to Alisa.
He gets up in that vague way again. (I wasn't watching when he did this. Sorry. We know he just got up, somehow. I'll do better next time.)
In his right hand, a rocket punch. In his vision, clouded by continued injury and exertion, he shuffles forward a bit, casting a slower pace to the climactic finish that Alisa's subroutines are probably building her towards.
"Oh. You probably need this, don't you," he says, now gingerly holding onto one of the rocket hands. "You shouldn't throw away hands! They're... handy. Y'know. You can do a lot of things with 'em, but... not a lot without 'em," he says, as though missing perhaps the greater picture in relation to hands, their detachment, and overwhelming underreaction to their seeming loss. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS MAN?
In a twist of fate, this does not seem to be the lead-up to some crazy quirk of fate or lucky bit of clumsiness that endagers himself, his opponent, or anyone within a twenty-foot radius, as he now holds out the captured rocket punch arm to Alisa with his free hand, outstretched about as far as he can manage in his continued over-burdened state.
He gives a polite, patient smile from what can be seen under all the machinery that seems ready to turn him into a gray goo scenario. Well, or maybe scorch his face off, if he's intent on keeping the rocket punch's propulsion end pointed towards his face.
COMBATSYS: Rust assists Alisa.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Rust 1/--=====/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Alisa
As the rocket punches slam into, and are caught by Rust, Alisa's eyes rise to take in this note. HitBot cannot be stopped. CAN. NOT! BE. STOPPED! As Rust snaps to attention, clearly like the shooting gallery cut-outs, Alisa finds herself skidding to a stop, before the rocket hands... are returned?!
Alisa's hands, meanwhile, have already returned - now, there being two pairs of hands, Alisa seemingly 'absorbs' them, in whatever logic allows her to create new heads from within her chest. The exact same!
"I thank you for returning my hands to you - ... and must declare this battle to be end." Alisa remarks. "My systems have recovered from severe damage and you have attempted to continue the fight in a way that my employers are not accepting of." Alisa smiles, however. "I hope, HitBot, that they shall program you and fix the various bugs and errors that I have detected! I will forward your creators this, as with your actions, I should have been defeated with a percentage chance of 70.2243458%! Yet, I believe now I have the upper hand and would be able to end this. I do not wish to destroy you, HitBot, so please, do not gather Rust and instead let them know, so you can be upgraded!"
With a bow, Alisa deactivates battle-mode, skipping away, having forfeited the match!
Clearly, the ratings will drop JUST LIKE CRAZY ZHIN'S sales. Everything was a disaster.
COMBATSYS: Alisa takes her battle systems offline.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE ELSE...
Some stalls down from the action, this late at night. The fight's the only reason the mall doors are still open.
A small museum set within the mall proper has gone quiet since its closing for the day. A single shadowy figure roams across the shadow-blackened exhibits holding... something, in their hand. They crouch down when a flashlight shines just past them.
Low-rent mall security. Almost all the effort to keep things relatively peaceful at this time of night is focused more on the mayhem going on at Crazy Zhin's, and for good reason given what those two are getting up to in there...
It's easy enough to go unnoticed when there's a whole spectacle going on about that washed-up has-been Howard Rust Jr. and a very strange young lady of particular powers and body composition are out giving Crazy Zhin a whole lot of headaches.
The hidden figure rises... smiles, and moves further in towards one of the exhibits.
Old, unearthed items from a people that long faced discrimination within Japan. Their treasures, thought forgotten by history, put on display for the greater public in an accessible location. A sign of great trust by those who would claim ownership to these relics...
The shadowy figure scowls as he hefts up an old, worn fabric item - an attush. The plaque says something about a chieftain once having made use of this. It is promptly thrown down onto the floor.
The other thing they were carrying reveals its truest nature - the stench of gasoline fills the air as a canister's contents are dumped across and all over the exhibits, forever staining history with ruin.
As he walks away, a new, tiny orange light fills the air. The features of the man - an aging Japanese man - casts a scowl as he throws it into the blindness of the night, atop the fuel that fuels his hatred and disdain of what lies before him.
He escapes out into the mall to later melt into the night, leaving a tragedy of continued discrimination in his wake.
NOW BACK TO TWO VERY STRANGE PEOPLE ARE DUKING IT OUT...?
"Over?" The aging idiot of a probably-not-robot man coughs, his body too rigid in HitBits to double over properly to account for fatigue, injury, and otherwise be a more honest appearance of a man bruised and winded. "Aw, I'm still good for... for a few hours. Probably. Yep, I--"
he stands through the diagnostic spiel. Most people should stand there, nonplussed, quick to correct about who they are, or what their actual name is, and yet, the worst possible take-away from all this as some finer details of the unnatural speech are filtered away to the latest, greatest dumb thought in his mind.
'Wow, HitBot is actually a sweet super hero name, I should make sure there isn't an itnernational copyright on that already.' He waves to Alisa skipping away as something of an afterthought as he considers the horrible idea of a superhero origin story.
Nothing good can come from this, much like the smoke that-- oh, the fire alarm rings. The aftermath of the arson, well, that'll be made plain soon enough. The ceremony about forfeit and victory or what have you are hampered by the fact that there's a fire, so...
COMBATSYS: Rust has ended the fight here.
SOME TIME LATER, CRAZY ZHIN CLAIMS DAMAGES FOR INSURANCE PURPOSES...
"Let me get this straight," says some suit in a suit. That's why they're a suit, "going over the recorded damages here," the suit puts on a replay of the battle. It's a mess! "You're asking for..."
"Yes!" Says Crazy Zhin.
The suit seems stunned, going over the contract... he shrugs nonchalantly as far as people go when it's their job to try and stave off ever paying anything back if they can help it.
"It is in the contract!" Crazy Zhin points out.
"I know, I know," the suit says, holding up a hand as he writes out a cheque. "We'll get this all notarized soon, settled by the next three business days, but... I have one question."
"Yes?" Zhin almost forgets to respond, overjoyed at this sudden agreement about paying back.
"The amount of damages you're claiming total is... in the US dollar, $78.26." The suit says. "Why is your damage claim so... inconsequential?"
"HOW ELSE DOES CRAZY ZHIN SELL FOR LOW LOW PRICES?!" The crazy unlucky shop owner shouts, as though this were a greater affront than a tax scandal probe.
Log created on 16:49:35 01/23/2016 by Rust, and last modified on 23:57:43 01/29/2016.