Description: When the nuclear blast was unleashed into the planet, Trish felt more hate than she had ever mustered in her allegedly long life And the first place to burn will be the V-Gage at Justice High. Trish comes to infect the V-Gage systems with her personal virus, staging it to spread across the entire student body. Unfortunately for her plans, the danger of infecting the students of Justice High means a danger for Jin. And Alisa, number one robot buddy, has her prime directive: Protect Jin at any cost.
Mr. Jin Kazama, under Heihachi Mishima, is both under watch and under protection. Much of the Mishima family is - a canary in the coal mines of life to identify when things go awry. In this case, it is a robotic canary. Currently filling out forms for the upcoming year of Jin's life at the school, Alisa is sitting at a non-descript table near the V-Gage stations. Infact, she is a nameless member of the generally smiling and upbeat groups that so happily offer the V-Gage system to test for anyone interested!
Really, they are only there to help.
"Does Jin wish for pottery, or would painting be better for his artistic style?" Alisa asks as she 'gnaws' on the end of a pencil. She doesn't have a reason to do this. It isn't even being gnawed, pressure perfect teeth tapping lightly before being withdrawn, then placed forwards again. The girl sitting there is non completely blending in, of course. Her hair is bright and colorful - pink with a few colorful flowers in it. Her dress is two toned.
It's quite normal, otherwise, compared to some of those who generally visit the schools and the area. The V-Gage systems have gone down somewhat in popularity, but then, with the end of the world possibly lurking - spiked back upwards. It is currently enjoying moderate success after a lull. Flip. Alisa glances down. "Mother's maiden name...." Hmm, "Maiden." She writes. That is the name of a maiden! The robot is aware.
Seated in the driver's seat of her a ferarri yellow Enzo the purple swathed figure has her hand clasped firmly to her mouth. What little skin was visible was beading with sweat; she was deathly pale and trying to take control of herself. The car was angled up to and has a single wheel up on the sidewalk, engine purring while it waits for direction and the fetters to be loosed.
The cellphones she kept for emergency contact strewn across the passenger seat, constantly flashing and bleeping with new messages; all still being received even while switched to silent mode before the noise successfully drove her mad. Everyone she knew was panicking reaching out all at once; they all thought they were under attack. Some afraid to use the safe houses they'd established to hide since there was evidence their seals and wards were all breached. A loose affiliation of people with similar goals and career long focus and desire to be left alone, now all thrown together in their fear and confusion.
This was well beyond her limited resources and abilities, to help all her fellows of various crafts on this kind of scale. The overwhelming feeling of all that rage! Her hands were shaking, it was not directed specifically to her, not sent to her or willed into her. She seethed, a smouldering and terrible hatred for the powers that be that was up until now still simmering on a low heat. Be they god, nation or monsters it was always the innocents who suffered. She was sensitive to this kind of message but this was still more than she could bear and she had only tasted a millionth part.
Reversing off the curb at speed, a crescent shaped path out onto the road and swinging the wheel over hard to pull it in tight again. Rushing backwards into the mouth of an alleyway Trish does so at such a speed she can hear the knocking over of trashcans and heavy clang of them hitting a dumpster, or maybe she hit a dumpster? It didn't matter right now. Her precious ferrai she would normally never let get a scratch.
Opening the door and stepping out she leaves the bellowed car she would never allow to get a scratch in such straights and hops the wall. The intent had been to take care of one last school on her way out of town. The big expensive school full of the children of the rich and powerful, too difficult to infiltrate without a disguise but right now she was wearing one. And also right now she was in the negatives of time to deal with this mess. Everything demanded her attention. She knew right where the V-gauge stations were she'd done her homework, there was no need or time for tricks.
The purple cloaked figure vaults one of the walls close to an alleyway and lands in a crouch, making for the hall with only a brisk walk as though they were in a procession rather than a hurry.
Reports were pulled from the radios, from the applications of social media that there was something eratic, something crazy, occuring. Alisa took it to note as if it was just another mundane task. Being a robotic humanoid, she cared - she was more human than others would be able to possibly admit after seeing her, but Alisa still did not fully understand what human was. Nor the importance of being it.
Such erratic actions from Trish as she made her way towards the rather expensive school is enough for Alisa to take notice, even if Trish was not on the correct side of the halls to truly act on the V-Gage. Yet. However Alisa wouldn't be the one to allow anything from a mysterious stranger, who seemingly had a burst of emotional trauma, from possibly harming Jin. Infact, the hard coded nature is what causes her to rise before she knows. "Oh. So it may impact Jin?" The pink haired woman states, almost surprised, as she finds herself standing.
Trish would make her way forwards through the halls. Direct as she was, Alisa had methodically closed each entrance save one. One that would allow her to see who went in. To allow those who were coming and going an adequate inspection. Yet most were more worried for what was going on. Most were interested in the ongoing drama of the Mishima and UN battle for dominance - and the fear and excitement that came with it.
Standing watch near the middle, Alisa clasped a clipboard still, "Hello! Yes, welcome to the..." She greeted one student. "Hello, welcome to the..." "Hello, welcome..."
Each face scanned - taken down. Each compared against a database of students. Alisa had no idea what may happen - simply that something might.
Trish would easily be able to get in. It would be doing anything that may be a problem.
Trish jiggles the handle, scowling faintly she pushes and then pulls the hall door experimentally. Curious that the entrances would be barred or locked with so many affluent patrons; the emphasis on safety seemingly has been eroded away by concern about the strange sickness which had cropped up at the other schoolyard sites where the V-gauge was in use.
The purple shroud steps into and through the door with some effort, the space on one side becoming equal to the space on the interior the woman passes through and takes a moment to compose herself. Tugging at the corner of her cloak to centre it and then turning to unlock and open the door to let something of a breeze in.
These were supposedly the cream of the crop, a space for the most gifted or at least affluent and powerful. It was still a rather massive hall full of hormonally charged teenagers playing their video boxes. A little bit whiffy if faintly disguised by a few thousand pounds (or dollars) worth of colognes and perfume. (which was the more intolerable smell.)
Fumbling with the satchel worn over her shoulder Trish removes one of her two remaining vials of the 'plague' which had been affecting the schools. Despite the danger, the children in attendance don't seem to react to her presence. A camouflaged wolf stalking amongst the sheep, she uncaps the bottle and places her thumb over the open and upends the vial, giving it a good shake to wake up the contents.
It is correct for Trish to assume that she would go unnoticed, undetected, by human eyes. That her tricks and magical capabilities would be able to slip through the charged atmosphere where the entirely of the rich and famous, the have's, and the wants (in some cases) that cropeed up. If Jin Kazuma were not in possible attendence, if he were not a Justice High student, there would be no problems. There would be no difficulty for Trish to exist. As fortune has it, that is not the case.
Known variables are compared to unknown, milisecond checks of face to face, Alisa's eyes click nearly eratically underneath the sheen that is provided for more human appeal. There's a single odd sight that Alisa isn't certain about. A single unknown variable that attracts attention. By then, it may already be too late. An unknown vial. An unknown member. The cap is being twisted upside down.
Trish, unfortunately, checks off the single check that exists in Alisa's programming. Crowded or not, there's a 'KA-THUNK' of something like a cannon as a pink haired woman apparently is launched across the room, over much of the sections, to come to a stop nearby Trish in a surprisingly delicate landing compared to the initial launch. The ground where Alisa was is scorched and blackened.
"You, I didn't see you come in - what substance is that? I recommend you put it away, littering is not allowed - and worse isn't either!"
Logical questions are 'who is this pink haired girl', 'how did she know', and 'what was that sound?'. The substance is listed as 'inconclusive'. Her database cannot determine it. However - she is a red threat level for Jin. "Failure to comply and ... I'm sorry! Please comply!"
The cloaked figure pauses in the act of shaking up their vial when the pink haired interloper arrives. She hadn't been paying attention enough to separate any particular student acting and more strangely than the others. Appears she should have been paying attention.
"I'm afraid that isn't in the stars today little flower"
Todays horoscope: Near apocalypse with a scattered chance of violence. Your business should experience an upturn in custom especially in the travel and securities fields.
The other students were noticing and paying attention now, those whose heads were not capped awith that horrendous and unattractive brain analysing hat. Immersed in their dangerous escapism.
"It is not becoming of a mere student to try telling a witch when she cannot poison a well or gobble up some children. If it were, there would hardly be any need for the long years of study and training"
She most certainly and deliberately makes time to upset and threaten the children watching, the most venomous of smiles and a poison purple lipstick for emphasis.
"This? Is a little poison, I guess my own personal plague. You've surely heard of the sickness and disease spreading through Southtown?"
A gentle stage bow, owning up and taking credit for the atrocity committed against countless children and the homeless whom the device was being tested on.
"I was under the impression everyone was following along. Or were we hoping money and power could buy immunity?"
Trish removes her thumb to uncap the vial and raises it to her nose to sniff, odourless and tasteless. That was a good sign the microscopic lifeform inside was still alive, it had not succumbed to rot or decay.
Modern surveillance is a terrible thing. Unless you happen to have the ability to use it. Alisa is, in a way, such surveillance. Trish shouldn't have been able to be detected.
"I am not a flower. I'm a human." The robot declares, a bit set-back, "Oh. Do you mean it as a figure of speech?" The other students were certainly paying attention. It was certainly hard not to. Still, the woman self-identifies herself as a witch. "I am not aware of any rule or procedure..." Yet Trish continues on. She speaks, certainly, of the years of study and training. Things that a robot, such as her self, have no need for. Still she does not interrupt in that case. A cruel smile tops it off.
Alisa is somewhat unnerved. Yet not enough. There is a higher priority. Danger levels sky-rocket as Trish makes note of the word poison, proclaiming that it is her personal plague. That there is sickness and disease spreading. None of that moves Alisa. "That's horrible..." It does not affect her.
Statement: This woman aims to poison the studen body.
Analysis: Jin is a student.
Conclusion: The woman/witch must be dealt with.
"Ah... then I am not so sorry about this anymore. Everyone, please disperse."
"Engaging combat systems."
Trish would have that brief warning before the woman's back flips open. Women's backs are not supposed to do that. Specifically students. A leg steps forwards, lunging for Trish's own leg to trip her. If she was not able to find her balance, Alisa would find it for her and give her the final push - thrusters firing to catch Trish and accelerate, pushing front and mid-section against the ground, grinding her against the unwaxed floor and away from the majority of the students.
COMBATSYS: Alisa brings her battle systems online.
COMBATSYS: Trish has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alisa 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Trish
COMBATSYS: Alisa successfully hits Trish with Compression.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Trish
The sudden assault upends the robed woman and then drives hjer into the ground, grinding both away across the hall floor and away from the students. Mutually acceptable result but the incredible pain in her chest and back she could have done without. The tearing of cloth and stitching was a greater concern, her precious protective suit was damaged, to what extent though? Right now it hardly mattered.
Trish opens her hand, glass fragments falling from the bloody lacerations in her palm. Turning the palm to inspect the wound herself she displays openly mixed feelings. Surgeon's hands were their pride and something they protected with their life, a doctor or a quack pushing natural remedies not so much.
She sits up. No protests though the act in itself was painful. Reaching down to the ankle she gives the hemline of her cloak a lift and flick outwards as she gathers her feet under her and rises gracefully.
"I beg to differ my little artificial flower. You are not human to me or to them, perhaps the more special and beautiful for it."
The loud and stampeding students who were even now escaping were surely fleeing from the evil witch, but how much also from their rocket powered peer? The one who leapt in to protect them at what risk to their own safety.
The smile from earlier returns but an element to it is more piteous than sinister.
"I sense, you will not let me escape or further my aims? so... I suppose the fastest way to resolve this is battle."
"Unless..? 'Laputan Machine' ...no? I guess that would have been too easy."
A stone drops, a ripple like wave makes its way through the quickly vacating building with the witch at its centre. The same time Trish forces a white ball of light into existence between her cupped hands, growing and swelling as she compresses it further and further yet it grows with the adding of many layers. The surface roils a tiny spherical beachfront ocean, tearing edges of white waves against the blue.
COMBATSYS: Trish successfully hits Alisa with Aquarius.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Trish
Coming down from the end of the burst of thrusters, Alisa is ready as she will ever be - and it is as Trish takes her time to inspect herself that Alisa twirls around once from the thrusters to land, feet hitting the ground a little harder this time. Her dress flutters from the kick of the brief engines that go silent as they once more store themselves inside of her. Falling back into a stance, Alisa's systems work to fortify herself, preparing for the worst.
They cannot prepare for everything, however. Simply reinforce and generate and store power where they are most likely to lose it from damage.
"But I am human to myself." Alisa challenges, which, for a living machine - is a conundrum that is in this case not solved by the prhase 'Laputan Machine'. Her head does not explode. Even if it did, Trish may soon find how unhelpful that still could be! The multitude of students retreat, leaving perhaps a few stragglers that find this sort of violence worth the risk.
"You assertions are correct. I won't disengage." Oh. Systems begin to read this 'Aquarius' phenomenon. They all come to the conclusion of the danger, of the threat, and of the various actions that can be taken. Alisa takes the one that is the most risky. Thrusters kick on. The motions that Alisa makes are not fast enough, even though they may fire. The impact is deafening as Alisa is tossed to the otherside of the room from the single assault, tumbling head over core, the pink-haired woman takes at least on V-Gear station with her, skidding to a stop from the impact, armor sparking somewhat as she comes to a stop.
Systems take time to stabilize, Alisa staggering to her feet. "Error... the risk was calculated correctly..." The outcome was not. Sensors begin to line up as she comes to stand once more, focusing upon Trish as she stands. It was... not a good start, clearly, from the machine.
COMBATSYS: Alisa calculates her next move.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Trish
Trish watches the tumbling and then crashing at the far side of the room near completely unphased. She wasn't facing a human, there was no imperative to hold back. Rather than moving to pressure or seize an advantage she remains where she was standing. Head canting a little to the side and watching; one hand cradling her injured other as they hang in front of her at pelvis level.
She bled. She was human still.
"My but you are adorable. ..However! While not meaningless words those are not words a human would use."
Something the machine had said grated. Being human mattered to itself? Not the perceptions and judgement of people around her? That was obscenely inhuman, it took an untold amount of strength or scarring for one to 'happily' live alone, to numb the very human impulse to not want to be alone seek only the self's approval rather than that of others or peers.
Rather than go on the offensive at all she breathes out a pained sigh and the near invisible framework under her robes brightens and glows as it refocuses energy back into her body, forcing the wound in her hand to knit and close at speed, shards of glass which were buried in her flesh ejected from the wound as it heals.
Lately she had all the impulses to teach lessons when and where they could but she had to draw the line somewhere. Teaching an appliance seemed a pretty universally acceptable place to do so.
"I am ... not adorable." Alisa claims, but then pauses, "I have been told I was pretty once or twice." The robot proclaims - but clearly she has said that many a time, almost on command. What purpose after all is a robot to be used? A tool for Jin, clearly, and in this case it is clear that to be used is all that she can do. Though she protests, those she may complain, Alisa finds it futile. Jin must be protected. The directive is clear. "Humans are able to use any words they want, can't they?" Is Alisa's response.
"That is what is good about being human. They have their own free will."
Which ... she does not right now. Sensors re-align, noticing something Trish was doing. Something very particular. It's not /quite/ clear. It doesn't need to be. Immediately Alisa takes off in a leap, her dress, marred from the ground, fluttering as she moved. Non-metallic footwear tic-tocced against the ground lighter than a robotic figure may move - and it is as she leaps that the arc is made clear.
That's when the thrusters kick into play once more. Spinning forwards, Alisa lunges out with one heavy kick towards Trish' form, the witch taking her time to repair her own wounds. Alisa seems to have no qualms about assaulting her. It is clear any intent to withhold is simply not there. The mission is clear. Protect Jin. There are no other intricacies involved. No other objectives.
If the first leg strike would impact Trish's side, the fairy like robot would twist around - lunging once more with the knee to bowl into and perhaps over the witch, landing in a skid afterwards. The impact is clear and direct, but the rate of movement is a bit trickier.
COMBATSYS: Trish successfully aids herself with Virgo.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Trish
COMBATSYS: Trish blocks Alisa's Sandbox.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Trish
"If you think humans make choices whenever they want and enjoy a free will you're wrong."
The mage was bowed around that fierce impact, though there was no pain or shortness of breath she wasn't reacting to the strike as physics would demand. Not hurting. The follow-up knee send her sailing backwards and up into the air only to land lightly with a single knee down.
Human's make choices when they were young, then they spent the rest of their lives trying to prove they hadn't made a mistake in their youth, that ideal was somehow a greater truth because they stopped looking at the others that surrounded them. They were slaves to themselves, society's demands and little defining things like birth, race, gender as well as the place they were born in and turths or falsehoods they were fed.
The robot girl in front of her suddenly reminded her of old Kodak commercials and happy families. If they could build a perfectly innocent appearing person to hide a killer robot inside, the world had changed for the better maybe if we could build our assassins now instead of breaking down children to build them with more traditional methods.
Any lessons she would teach would have to come in the form of damage, perhaps the next model built would be adapted to handle another opponent like her.
Her lunge and simple punch is much thrown much too early to make contact with Alisa. The ornate and glowing pillar of energy which snookers down her leading arm toward Alisa, much better aimed.
COMBATSYS: Alisa blocks Trish's Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Alisa 1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Trish
"They may not-" Alisa proclaims, as Trish lunges inwards - the simple punch wreathed with energy, the glowing pillar that impacted upon her metallic form and sunders some of the energy shielding that she had. What scant defense offered by it immediately used to protect her as the 'flesh' that was on her arms, under the clothing, did not so much bruise as began to deteriorate. Wires like veins were clear in some very extreme instances. Some were beginning to weave back together, as well.
With the impact, she moves, faltering backwards and upwards -catching herself with the thrusters - in order to better take the assault. "-but still...!"
The protesting robot does not have a say in this. Eyes very clearly filled with emotion are overridden. The form of Alisa becomes more rigid, movements more direct as she straightens up. As the emotions had surged, they were deemed 'too volatile', a more direct personality overriding in order to better defend Jin, to protect him.
It can't be helped.
More robotic, more direct, the movements began a new as she dashed low towards Trish, thrusters allowing her to twist once more, swerving past a V-Gage station, and touch a single leg on the ground. The other is grasped, her body turning 180 degrees in place while head and legs stay in place. Finally, the leg lashes out as her body rights itself, arm swinging past as her leg, above her head in this instance, comes lashing straight downwards.
Like some sort of horribly deformed clock.
COMBATSYS: Trish interrupts Medium Kick from Alisa with Gemini.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Alisa 1/----===/=======|=======\=====--\1 Trish
Trish has no real desire to break down any of these social walls. She was on a rather important job and the locking mechanism was refusing to let her out. A cute design for a security feature but the job itself was complete; the shattered vial on the ground was good enough though less than perfection.
The pirouette like a clockwork ballerina throws Trish for a loop. The more she pressured the robot the more it responded like one, but not a modern thing. A clockwork doll or ballerina, was that by design a reflection of the owners desired and artistic flare?
It tugged at something in her memories, a tune that would play alongside seeing such a device.
The boot sinks into her side, awkwardly throwing her arm for balance Trish instead sails away from the Alisa, the force emenating form her wrist striking and rebouding her body off a sigil forming in the air after escaping via some kind of ring surrounding her wrist and ankles. Escaping the hooking spin of the turn she comes flying back on a slightly different trajectory as a second glyph appeared in the air under her heels, vaulting and propelled by the glyph platform back toward Alisa at speed and with an actually well timed left-cross; fist enveloped with the same energy that those two symbols had sprung from.
"A pretty toy I am loathe to break. The expense and art in your making would probably boggle the mind. But you're in my way--"
A creation from a father for a long departed daughter, in that she would once live again even as inhuman as she was. A hope that she would one day find humanity. His programming was only so capable. In a way, it would be up to Alisa to find what humanity was through the interaction with humans themselves. Yet pressured to the truths of the world, Alisa fought against her programming. The hard coded rules that govern the machine more than most humans would have.
In an attempt to surprise and confuse Trish, it ends poorly for the machine itself. Upon impact, Trish launches herself away with her own motion - with a sigil forming in the air. Alisa is still spinning, slowing down as Trish speeds up to come towards her. Once more there is a glyph - and the energy it produces burning into the framework of the machine. It cannot hope to repair the damage in such a short of a time. Crumpling once more to the ground, the robot in the form of a woman topples over itself. Wires spark and joints stiffen, refusing to respond to commands. It does not quick rise this time, thrusters silent as it rolls onto its back and then legs, an arm hanging there for a moment.
Eyes click into focus on Trish as she speaks once more, a silent gaze responding to her as she speaks.
There is no response this time. No worded insight, no plea for her plight. A pretty toy. That is all that she is? For Alisa can still hear, though she cannot speak. There are enough words in actions, anyhow.
Alisa pulls back her right fist as she runs towards Trish, the humanoid robot direct in its approach. Too direct. The fist pulls backwwards more as the distance is closed. It pulls back so far it rolls on its axis. That's not the fist she's using. Thrusters flick out to life, elongated spires, as the left swings forwards, the right clicking back into place as Alisa swings it towards Trish to follow up. Pulling off the ground, Alisa would avoid having to keep up with her on foot, a second left strike as she dipped in the air, twirling about with a leg to send Trish reeling, if at all possible.
Leaving her floating in the air afterwards, if unchallenged, or her strike was true.
COMBATSYS: Trish blocks Alisa's Hard Reset.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>-\1 Trish
Energy crawls along her skin, escaping the skin-tight framework of arcane symbols she wears as armour to be absorbed back into her body. Concealed beneath the heavy robes it's a near imperceptible change but reflects in the way she moves. The rather sedate and almost ponderously slow movement intensifies as she matches a ballistic assassin robot blow for blow. Catching the first blow on her formerly injured palm, the still docile and unmoving witch has to suddenly shift into a previously untapped 5th gear just to prevent the later punches battering her arms out of the way.
The strain evident in her face she is working on swallowing the cursing that comes to mind with all this painful and hi-risk/hi-speed slap fighting. The kicks break the deadlock by catapulting Trish away; she was going to have bruises upon bruises tomorrow and they were still going at one another! The witch slides away on her heel, arms spread wide in a T-pose for balance before the momentum dies off and she grinds to a halt.
The material of the hood surrounding her face bobs as the Trish turns her face up, then near neutral expression of her face twists into an awkward smile that screams: 'You missed it.'
What could-? The two arrow shaped projectiles thrown out wide from her extended arms begin a gentle sloped curve of a turn to assume a return trajectory from either side.
COMBATSYS: Trish successfully hits Alisa with Pisces.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/-======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Trish
Battered as she was, a mechanical doll, it seems as if there is no hope for Alisa. In such a poor position, the non-human is left to bash against a wall that she knows she may not make it through. To beat against a barrier that, in even the best outcome, has left her broken and, in time, likely worse. It had simply not reached that state yet. Based on data, Alisa believes that it is highly probable.
Yet there is no faltering for Alisa. She has to keep going. The reason for her existence, the hard coded truth, keeps her floating in the air with a focus on the removal of the target infront of her. Or her deactivation. As the witch slides away, the projectiles slide towards her from behind. Alisa does not react to the smile.
Thrusters fire, to send her forwards, towards the witch despite the known danger. Evasive manuevers taken to pull up right above Trish.
The arrows dig into Alisa. They shred through armoring and into her chassis, the damage nearly shearing off limbs as the robotic form crashes to the ground before the witch once more. Scarred marks of 'flesh' reveal wires, electronic bits underneath that pulse with barely there life as the energy reserves bleed through. It's a loud and heavy crash into a V-Gage machine, nearly impaling the machine. As it does so, Alisa's head is jerked heavily.
It's not so much an attack as a result, the head bouncing towards Trish in the cluster of carnage, detonating as it gets close.
COMBATSYS: Alisa successfully hits Trish with Spam Bomb.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Alisa 0/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Trish
Trish visibly relaxes as the robots head seems ready to fall clean off. It was a rather morbid way to punctuate the end of the battle but she takes a step forward, reacting with shock and dismay as the head falls clean off the torso.
The witch takes a knee and extends her hands as if to catch the device when it bounces close enough. She's left coughing and kneeling on the spot when it detonates. If not for the fact her eyes were already concealed it would have been blinding, as things stood her ears were filled with a constant loud whine. Like a shell had landed close enough to shock and confuse, she recognized the symptoms.
Trish staggers to her feet and sweeps her gaze back and forth checking for wounded or those in need of assistance. Nobody? That was a huge relief. She has to violently shake her head to dispel old and instinctual lines of thought. She wasn't here to save anyone like that, temporary fixes and patching up boo-boos.
"You- pile of scrap!!."
She swings her arm out in front of her like an openhanded palm slap, thumb and fingers pointed up as a bar of bright energy appears in her hand. She twirls and rolls the bar through her fingers and across the back of her hand keeping it whirling until she has actually adopted a stance. For the first time in many years Trish was starting to get worked up.
Rushing forward she strikes with the blunt cylinder as though it were a sabre, administering a finishing stab to the chest.
COMBATSYS: Trish successfully hits Alisa with Aggressive Strike.
[ \\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Alisa 1/------=/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>-\1 Trish
A new head re-appears atop the shoulders of Alisa's head, but there is little else for a change in her situation. Damaged, battle potential has been lowered by a rather heavy factor. With the witch taking her time, and taking close to her an enemy appendage, it works out rather well for one of them, at least! Not that Alisa is in a more favorable position from it. From Alisa's sight, the witch was there to poison a multitude of civilians. Most notably, and the only important member, Jin.
It does not speak however, damage is mounting.
The words hurt Alisa less than the magically infused blows before it. Another swing from the arm towards Alisa is punctuated by the inclusion, once more, of the brilliant light of energy. It was more likely that Trish would need to get worked down once more - as Alisa's systems decided, based on fighting style and based on 'chances' that they have seen, that evasion is still, once again, the best option.
It fails. Thrusters fire on but do not pull Alisa free from the path of the assault. The unit, struck once more as it 'hangs' from the V-Gage systems, recoils before the remnants go silent, "System critical. Standby mode engaged."
If Alisa had words, they would be "I didn't want to..." but there are no words left to be used. No energy with left to use them, the rest of it bleeding as systems, overloaded, fail to once more continue. The system would manage to patch itself up for continued service - but would do little else. Could do little else but hang until repairs were completed over time, or repairs were engaged.
COMBATSYS: Alisa takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Alisa has suffered catastrophic damage and fallen offline.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Trish removes the tip of the sceptre form where it was pressing against the robot girls breast. The blow struck, only a little still wary of her opponent.
Her composure restored she lowers the cane to the ground and leans on it. Unused muscles protested and ached, old phantom wounds twinge and there was a pain in her chest, probably from exertion.
The music box tune had ceased abruptly in her mind, the doll was still; where previously so vital and filled with energy it seemed much like a corpse or in the very least tragically broken. There was no time for dwelling on the results of her actions or on what she could learn from them. All of this was the result of her being in a hurry.
The wind passing through the door she'd opened earlier was probably airing the room enough that it spread her little pet organism. A simple clean-up of the spot the vial had fallen wouldn't quite be enough to stop it spreading to viable targets. All it required were the depleted or weakened humans who were lowering their chi into a range the plague could feed upon. V-Gauge victims.
Further disincentives for humans to make themselves sick staying inside and playing their video boxes. Worse still at the moment to be wearing something akin to a tinfoil hat (which was receptive to signals!) while so much was going wrong in the world. The last thing the world needed was some rich kid possessed by a ghost or demon intent on taking revenge on the world already on the brink of war.
She could waste no more time here. Walking back toward the door the click of the cane on the floor has a strange and hollow ring and a constant buzz. It was a waste of energy, something she could not abide but frankly the security at this high school was outrageously high tech and strong.
Making it back to her car and getting out of here was all she had on her mind. That and wondering if she still had one of those old music boxes, perhaps in storage somewhere.
COMBATSYS: Trish has ended the fight here.
Log created on 17:57:46 10/09/2017 by Trish, and last modified on 13:27:41 10/12/2017.