Magi - Exhibition File, 10.14374.136.2.07

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Description: He does like to try the patience, doesn't he? He proceeded quickly through Therapeutics and their recovery program, as expected. Though, he harassed several of the nurses in the process. In response to his caterwauling, I've made more apropos arrangements with Cybernetics and the Stalker Program for his final evaluation with a few of the marginally stable prototypes pre-Riptor. I'm confident he'll survive.


The Ultratech black site is almost invisible until you're directly on top of it. The ride itself there is of no great consequence, in comparison to the original feat that took Roland to a bioengineering facility where parts of him were taken for biocompability testing, and then the attachment of a prototypical prosthesis. 'While the original was used in sports therapy applications,' they told him, 'later revisions now have more noticeable military applications.'
Of course, it's hard to tell where Ultratech's limits are in the field of cybernetics, owing to its blistering array of patents and government contracts. However, the man who came to see Roland and give him a job was a man of his word, and with the stroke of a pen, placed the appropriate requisition order. Several million dollars later, Roland is no longer missing an arm.

There was the usual battery of acclimatization protocols, the configuration and auditing of the firmware aboard the 'cybernetic platform,' as the surgeons were wont to call it. A meaningful sum of of drugs and wiring surgery to install a reactive socket, no doubt. Science seems effortless, the work of only some weeks. But despite none of the doctors ever having brought it up, the sensation is that the debt Roland has incurred is monumental.

"Don't worry," Magi had said. "You'll pay it off."

Now, a few auditors step out of the airship in the small hangar, a few suits, and almost assuredly an actual Ultratech agent steps onto the witness floor of the testing pen, overlooking the hydraulically lowered loading bays in the labyrinthine testing chambers beyond. Holographic projectors showing data cast onto antiseptic steel walls and solid light fields supplement more analog means of containment while the loading floor is lowered, and hexagonal shapes wall off metal bars which seem to have been partially chewed through. This is where Roland's been taken, and a - lone - tech is currently checking the fit of a diagnostics halo fitted onto his head. He holds up a penlight in front of Roland's eyes. "Now, tell me if you feel any pressure, or any sagging or weight of the prothesis," he instructs, syncing the data with a pad held in the crook of his right arm, which displays a crawling update of Roland's vitals. "Take one, take one," he remarks into a lapel mic. "Diagnostic check red, all go for diagnostic live test. Zone is ready for evacuation."

If Roland blinks, the tech is going to be gone. He is not in a hurry to stick around and see what happens.
Just barely audible, there is a soft churn of a camera PTZ inside of a nearby glass bulb.

Money is one thing; but making himself whole again? That kind of offer is not one that exists in the 'normal' world. Although he was hardly bothered by it in the grand scheme of things, that doesn't mean Roland hasn't been annoyed at lacking his limb; it slit the throat of his proverbial fighting career, and now that a few sparks of passion came back, he's willing to flirt with the devil to see what they offer.

Being promised an arm, and waking up with one upon his stump, are two very different things. Who does he care if it means another massive sum of debt? He's already got one, after all.

In the span of time since acquiring it, Roland has blown away all metrics on acclimating. Estimates range from a month to three months, optimally, to use it finely. He did such in a few days. Spatial awareness was regained shortly thereafter. All experimentations and data points in the period after are pretty much useless, outside proving Roland is an unusually adaptive individual. Even the strange additions within he has managed to reliably use in short order.

Roland's grown bored of it all, of course. He stretches out his limb, curls it, all rippling with seamless, compact joints and connections of dark gunmetal. A subtle whirr as fingers curl and extend. He's not quick on the raw, so to speak. Taking stock of the retreating footsteps, he looks around sedately with mild confusion to find himself alone.

"...uh. Hello?" he asks, with a muted echo of the chamber. He had pushed rather hard for the last diagnostic check in order to /leave/ the facility... but doesn't that require another person?

In reply, yellow caution lights begin to cycle around the edges of the loading dock. A klaxxon alarm blares for one short blast.

"Welcome to the Ultratech Stalker Testing Facility," a computerized voice drones overhead. "In just a few short minutes, you'll have the opportunity to witness first-hand the melding of the past and the future, for today's rapidly evolving battlefield. Stalker Combat and Infiltration Units are infinitely adaptable, with a variety of augments and genetic modifications available to fit a range of applications and theatres of engagement...."

The canned advertisement drones on, clearly something linked to the routine tripped the moment the tech got out of Dodge. None of it is really relevant, as a canny eye wouldn't have placed anyone but Ultratech staff in the control area today. Unfortunately, while it wasn't clear that Roland's push for being released fell on any kind of aware ear, there is also a dearth of explanation as to what, exactly today's test is going to be and what the expected outcome is.
To be truthful, nobody seemed to know what the outcome would be. And now Roland is alone in a facility in the ass end of nowhere, listening to mindless ad copy crowing about Ultratech's many accomplishments, etc. etc. while watching the hexagonal energy panels flicker out of existence one after another, leaving a plexiglass barrier to slowly piston open, and bolts to unlock, bars sliding away to reveal the operating space: a chain of open-air chambers, white and aseptic save for the faux jungle modelling in some areas, synthetic leaves and vines doing a reasonable job of approximating an appropriate biome, but less of a reasonable job covering the aseptic white tiling on the walls and floors. Above, a broad swath of black domes off the entire operating sector of the facility. Light provided by the chambers themselves vary, to painfully bright in some areas, and near midnight in others. The only consistent lighting is provided by the surveillance screens, massive holographic projectors filling the topsides of the dome, and no doubt are hiding pacification algorithms for those thinking of finding escape amongst the catwalks that are barely visible near the top.

Mostly, it is silent, save for the omnipresence of machinery, not limited even to the whirr and click of Roland's own mechanical arm. That, and the barking.
One might have initially mistook it for the klaxxon blaring, but the sound is undulating, narrower, and more purposeful. It takes a moment of hearing it -- once, and again, and then a third time, to realize it comes from two different areas. And that something out there in the wilderness is imitating the sound.
Though he might not know it yet, Roland has about fifteen seconds to figure out what's going on, and make a plan before a full-on head-to-toe six feet of sinuous dinosaur bursts out of the adjoining chambers into the loading bay in an attempt to knock him down and chew his head clean off before he can even get a chance to identify exactly what it is.

"ULTRATECH - Looking to the past to preserve the future!" the ad crows helpfully.

COMBATSYS: Twins has started a fight here.

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Twins            0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Roland has joined the fight here.

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Roland           0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0            Twins

Roland jumps up to his feet, clearly alarmed by the unexpected noises going through him. He adjusts his cowboy hat, the one possession he's always had since starting his career as a fighter. With his right hand, at that; something he didn't expect to ever do again. He's little idea about this particular organic bio-weapon; it's not something much publicized to the civilian masses, after all. He can smell Magi's scent in all this... so if he wants him to be able to roam free again, he'll have to earn it?! No sweat off his handsome brow! Taking something of a combative position, he then twists towards the opening door.

Fine. He'll play along. He begins to edge in that direction, reaching out to drag the chair along with himself. He's not keen on all the noises that might come from this strange facility, so he's only surprised for about twelve of those fifteen seconds when a literal dinosaur ribbed and encased in sleek metal and cybernetics rushes out.

"IS THAT A FREAKING RAPTOR?!" he shouts out, voice somewhat tinny and face comically alarmed. He grips the chair he had brought along, the steadfast companion, and twists to whip it in a brutal spiral head over heels towards the advancing menace.

If he's being recorded, he's going to want the tape deleted, since the next thing he does is just turn around and bolt in the opposite direction with surprising alacrity. "HEY! HEY!! ABORT! ABORT THIS BULLSHIT! THERE'S A FUCKING DINO IN HERE!!" He manages to find one of the cameras and leaps up to grip it and dangle alarmed, trying to shake it into compliance!!

COMBATSYS: Twins blocks Roland's Large Thrown Object.

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Roland           0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0            Twins

"Alert. Please do not molest exceptioned equipment," a speaker warns Roland helpfully. "To control costs in the event of animal containment failure, a mild electric intervention event will now occur. For your safety, please keep body and any metal tools or equipment clear in five... four... three..."

It's interesting to note that despite all appearances, the raptor that comes bursting from the wilds of the testing chambers after Roland is not as large as one would normally ascribe to most dinosaurs, only coming up to Roland's chest or so without standing up taller on its hind claws. However, there is a lot to be accounted for for being nearly three times Roland's size in -length- from snout to tailtip, and even more so for being limned head to toe in glowing horn, obscure metal plates and augments and having a head full of razor sharp teeth.

In that vein, the mottled greyish creature is stymied very briefly by being beaned with a chair, her charge clipped short by the end-over-end of the metal chair. As the equipment helpfully warns Roland about facility safety protocols in the event of a raptor attack while threatening to electrocute him simultaneously, the creature snarls, a rill of dagger-like horns rattling visibly as she slithers along the ground, snapping viciously at the chair hard enough to shear off one of its legs, only briefly distracted by it. It takes her a moment or two to realize the chair itself is dead, before she notices her original target is still on the wall. The red stripe running down her head to her snout glows visibly as she opens her claws, and the interlocks snap loose on her tail, as electric power crawls across her tail, whipping fast across the floor as she quickly tries to pin Roland down. Literally.

Preferably through the middle.

COMBATSYS: Roland full-parries Twins' Rampage Coil!!

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Roland           1/------=/=======|=------\-------\0            Twins

Roland will molest whatever the hell he wants!! Still, he knows a thing or two about dinosaurs; he happened to be a big fan of them as a child, growing up near a number of large fossil reservoirs. "Is this a Deinonychus or a Velociraptor?!" he privately marvels. Still, the somewhat lazily dressed Roland drops from the camera, pressing himself into the corner; it's definitely a tactically poor space. There's no cover, no weaponry, nothing of the sort to defend himself...

His shoulders slowly roll. With effort, he gets his chi circulating with the cybernetic; a faint hum building up as the joints and vents begin to glow green. Just because he's cornered by some monster doesn't mean he's going to stand here and take it! The time for horrified terror was the half-minute he spent desperately fleeing and clinging to this security camera!! He might not know Magi very well, but he seems the kind of asshole to sic cybernetic dinosaurs on a man to 'test his mettle'...

"C'mere.... c'mere, you piece of shit..." Good thing there's only one. He can handle ONE dinosaur just fine. He brings up his mechanized limb, and fires a small dart that lands about three meters ahead of himself. It's not edible, and thus of little likely interest to a charging dinosaur. He's open. Vulnerable. He has nowhere to go... although as the Riptor-model lunges towards him, there's a sudden bright flash of green as he's just...


He reappears where he fired the dart, leaving the reptile to slam into the wall, devoid of any sustaining Roland-parts. Before he reaches out to catch that long tail with his left hand, bracing himself and twisting to haul the raptor backwards towards himself. Pneumatics hiss as he rears back his right arm, twisting with a snarl as he unleashes a brutal, enhanced punch right for it's ribcage.

"FUCK...!" He then aims to catch it by the horn afterwards, to whirl around and slam her mass heavily into the bare metal wall adjacent. "OFF!!" A magnetic thrums to life, and the teleportation dart jiggles on the ground before flying back to slot seamlessly back into his limb.

COMBATSYS: Twins dodges Roland's Spanish 21 EX.

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Roland           1/---====/=======|=------\-------\0            Twins

The Stalker units are very clearly not true velociraptors - as the actual fossil was mischaracterized by some novel writer some thirty years ago, the actual raptor that has dominated popular culture since is just a human flight of fancy. Unfortunately, the finer points of genus size among dromaeosaurids is something of a moot point when considering the Ultratech-engineered Stalker. Velociraptor, unlike Deinonychus, was not five to six feet tall. However, it also did not have plasma-sheathed claws and a bite that could pulverize steel and concrete.

Meet the Stalker, Red. The creature charging Roland is completely unprepared for the vanishing act, smashing all 400+ lbs of her muscled frame into the steel wall in an impact hard enough to dent the metal. It dazes her long enough for Roland to get a good grip on the slick, leathery, decidedly non-feathered skin and pull. However, the prototype is not so easily drug along. With the spinal interlocks disengaged on her sinuous tail, individual sections of the appendage split as Roland hauls back, lengthening the creature's tail as if he were hauling on a spooled rope. Instead of hauling her closer, Roland succeeds in getting the creature's attention, causing Red to whirl on him, snapping viciously - and only held at bay for the fact that Roland still has her by the tail, jaws crashing shut only inches away from the brave gambler's face. One, two, three snaps!! It takes three bites of air before Red realizes he has her, and that not all of the interlocks on her spine are fully released. At which point she emits a low rumble in the back of her throat.

A menacing clicking sound that is echoed on Roland's seven.

"In the first iteration, the developers behind Project Stalker found that many of the units in the first breeding pool were first class in adaptability, cunning and overall power output," ad copy drones in the background, creatively glossing over key elements historically. "While later pools would emphasize and build upon the Stalker's peer-exalted and patent-protected coordination instinct genetics, these earlier iterations of the program have extended applications in the Ultratech family, and certain genotypes were selected for even in this pool that contributed to that genetic lineage. In the case of 'The Twins,' Red and Blue, their phenomenal tendancy towards marked coordination behaviors formed the underpinnings of Ultratech's search-and-destroy Stalker protocols, revolutionizing it for years to come."

A single reticule cut from crimson laserlight crawls along Roland's flank, a triangular shape marking his head as he holds Red's tail, just in time for a - second - raptor to step out onto the loading dock, targetting Roland with a sighting mechanism mounted on the side of her skull, to contrast against the blue flare of the markings on her head, the only differentiator between the two Stalkers surrounding him. There is an eerie pause as Red's own laser targetting boots, lighting up Roland as well.

Then there is a hiss, a pop, and a release of the final interlocks on Red's tail as the raptor makes a quick bite for Roland, trying to snatch and hold him in place long enough for Blue to breathe a frigid gout of ice on him, pinning him in place, slowing him down, and more importantly, allowing Red to break his hold on her and slam him back into the wall with a vicious swipe of her head, caging the poor gambler between the wall and cutting off his escape into the testing chambers beyond by two Stalkers both hellbent on tearing him into smarmy pieces!!

If Magi is watching from somewhere, he is almost assuredly grading Roland's performance.

COMBATSYS: Twins successfully hits Roland with Clever Girls.

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Roland           1/---====/=======|==-----\-------\0            Twins

Roland did not expect the lady to be so supple, so smooth, so slippery. He has made a terrible miscalculation, when his hand just pops right off that oblong length with naught anything to show for it after the brief elongation. He's quick to abandon his assault when pointy teeth are leveraged towards him effectively, eyes widened as he staggers backwards with a low curse. He brings up his dukes once more, skipping backwards to give himself some room to try and size up the kind of mess he's found himself in. Realizing he's targeted, he's not quite so fast in understanding this is not a one on one fight; no, he's in a Raptor Threesome!!

Turning to take in the other with a dropped jaw, that brief opening is all that Red needs to snag him on his fleshy forearm, causing him to violently shake around his limb with a sound of alarm. "BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!" He's clearly yelling this at the observers, before his back is hit by a sudden flash of ice that creeps across, slowing and partially immobilizing Roland. Trembling, his body then briefly ignites in green energy, crossing his arms and gathering up energy. Two green plasma blades form in either; one assisted by tech, one simple skill. He whirls around, violently throwing them towards either girl's face; they would sink in, and not immediately explode -- building up the charge before a meter-broad detonation aimed at both.

So Roland can duck pass, and begin running the hell away. He seems far more intent on finding his way to some modicum of safety, as opposed to continue battling, hand holding down his hat. ...or maybe this kind of hit and run tactics is intentional? It's hard to tell with such a horrified expression...

COMBATSYS: Twins endures Roland's Blackjack.

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Roland           1/--=====/=======|====---\-------\0            Twins

The observers, who have been watching Roland's progress, are busy furiously taking notes. Interestingly, there's people from the surgery team, the first responders, there's a cyber guy, there's a few animal handlers, a grip tech (the guy who initially dealt with Roland's surveillance equipment) and at least one or two guys from legal or insurance. They didn't say. Most of them are thuroughly engaged with Roland's performance in various angles, and several are monitoring Roland's vitals. The cyber guy is monitoring the new tech Roland's brought to the field, and has a debugging console up on the Stalkers and their litany of cybernetic augmentations.

Roland, to his credit, is good at getting out of the sticky situation the Stalker sisters are keen on putting him in. A few energy blades are nothing the two couldn't normally otherwise deal with, but the wily apple of their eye proves to have more in mind than just simple penetration.

A mottled blur of flesh intercedes between Blue and the bolts of green, Red slithering into the way in fast time, barking violently in time to the blood drawn along her flank by the deep thrusting stabs of the blades. The sound confuses Blue, and the two briefly snap at eachother before Roland's bolts blow Red off her feet, the raptor-esque killing machine knocked to the ground, thighs pumping in the air as she bleeds off her excess heat. Angrily, Blue watches Roland make a break for it, articulated horns folding back in derision as he runs, and with a chattering snarl, crouches low to the ground, pursuing him viciously.

And the Stalkers do move fast. One of the handlers mentions something about cheetah speed. 'She'll chase him down,' he says, 'right into the testing habitats. They're more than a little single-minded at times, when they get the scent.'

It's kind of a shame nobody saw fit to share this with Roland. He'll find out shortly enough, when Blue starts snapping at his heels somewhere deep in the testing chambers.

COMBATSYS: Twins successfully hits Roland with Flanking Run.

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Roland           1/--=====/=======|======-\-------\0            Twins

On the plus side, at some point, Roland just signed whatever Magi was throwing in front of him. He could technically be filmed in the midst of horrible raptor snuff sold in the black market and not actually have any legal recourse. It does confirm the strange effect his chi has; it seems to amplify his nervous system, reinforced and dope his muscles, outside acting as a buffer and a shield. How much of his gifted actions are a result of that? It's not a mere raw, aggressive force leveraged externally... someone able to 'self stim' is likely quite intriguing!

Which is presently used to give him a great dose of fleeing. He's not entirely sure where he's going, although the grip tech might be harassed for not covering every inch of the interior with high grade cameras. Who'd have expected Roland to make it there?! Teeth snap, and he goes down with a 'ker-thump' and slides across the ground. Twisting around, he arches upwards, thumping both palms to the ground and backflipping away.

"HERE!" Roland then snaps both of his hands at once, green energy shimmering distractingly in crescent moons. Before he shoots out trying to jam two fingers into two pairs of reptilian eyes. His cybernetic arm then extends forth a green plasma-blade nearly a meter long; he slashes it towards the midsection of either, trying to capitalize on any disorientation, before aiming to catch one muzzle within a steel grasp. So he can yank Blue forward, twist her around, and kip-up her solid frame over his hip -- and launch her full-force right into Blue's side!!

Okay. He's made a lap. ...he's not gonna get out of this. And there's nothing as dangerous as a cornered, desperate rat, these two ladies are about to find!!

COMBATSYS: Twins blocks Roland's Sleight of Hand.

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Roland           2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0            Twins

Blue, the one currently snapping at Roland's heels, stands over the flopping gambler like a queen surveying her domain. He scrambles back to his feet with a very smooth backflip at right about the time the grip is being hassled for not booting the drone cameras in expectation of this level of combat jogging and mayhem sewn by Roland. To be fair, most people are actually fed to the Stalkers -- hence the undisclosed and very remote location -- and most of the techs here are to make sure the equipment is recovered properly. The medics? TECHNICALLY veterinary. Most people do not get past ten feet, so this is already great marks for the combat prosthesis.

Though, judging from the man's amped vitals, maybe the subject has something to do with it. He is certainly offending Blue and Red both, the other dromaeosaurid storming into view just as Roland begins to flash blades at them, jamming fingers square into Blue's eyes to stun the creature long enough to hold her off, the creature snapping and kicking at the man just long enough to cause his own energy blade to shimmer, cascading sparks spraying the ground as laser-charged talons threaten to hook Roland's energy blades in a flash.

This backfires, as the angry disorientation of Blue is capitalized upon by Roland gripping onto the saurian's supple length with both hands, hefting her surprisingly thick frame under his body! Though the dazed animal kicks and bites, it doesn't stop him from heaving her full-force at her sister--!!

There is an audible screech in the air as Red vaults full over Blue's writhing body mid-air, sinking claws deep into her sister like a hawk descending in mid-flight, and using vicious talons to both arrest her sister's throes and slam her hard and deep into the concrete as she uses her as a stepping stone. The red-striped Stalker emits an audible hunting shriek as her jaw opens all the way as she goes all out to pounce on Roland, knock him down and bite deep onto his torso with rows of razor sharp hook teeth, heat bleeding from her open mouth and tongue in her descent, the shriek bathing Roland in wet, thick, fetid jungle heat like a wave of thunder preceding the bite.

COMBATSYS: Roland dodges Twins' More Teeth.

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Roland           2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0            Twins

The world seems to be going in slow motion for Roland, as he finishes hucking the naked female towards her sister. He can see the coiling tension, the threat of teeth, fang, and cybernetics. Still with both real and faux hand shimmering with emerald energy, he flexes, causing it to ignite across his body. The specs suddenly rocket up significantly, as he ramps his internal chi into a personal overdrive.

Teeth flank his face, but he begins to dart backwards, kicking off the smooth ground. One clawed forelimb rakes through his shirt, the other combing gently through his tilted beard. He finally gets the leverage to launch himself backwards as the Riptor-unit crashes where he just was, clawing up metal like it were easily scratched as clay.

"Hmph...!!" Still glowing like some Anime hero, Roland launches into the offensive with little warning. He roars, unleashing a cybernetic fist to slam into the side of Red's face. Only to bring his left towards her side, then kick her between the legs -- do dinosaurs have anything to kick there? It ends in a barrage of blows; each almost infecting her wtih his weighted chi, to gradually slow her down. Before grasping at her face and side, to twist and hurl her right into blue -- right as she'd explode in a rather impressive display of pyrotechnics.

"JACKPOT!!" he roars out. In defiance of, well, what might be murder. IS he being murdered?! He's no longer quite so sure!!

COMBATSYS: Roland successfully hits Twins with Jackpot!.

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Roland           0/-------/<<<<<<<|=======\===----\1            Twins

The various techs and surgeons gather around the pad in disbelief. The initial reports they had suggested this was possible with the subject, but the vitals spike they are seeing is off the charts for someone with Roland's genetic, training and physical limitations, and synchronization rates with the prosthesis shouldn't theoretically even be possible at this rate...

The underserved grip tech who had his pad ripped away from him a moment ago grouses something about being attacked by raptors making him question his limits too under his breath, before catching a view of one of the holo-shares, whistling absently at the numbers himself.

Red barely manages to get a taste of Roland in that moment, her jaws snapping shut loudly on air and her claws gently raking him into a well groomed looker instead of the horror story the techs would tell their kids over dinner that night to make their wives mad. What a difference a few inches can make. Teeth crashing together, Red barely has enough time to land before the green-glowing beautiful beast jets back in towards her, slamming a fist into her head, her side, then underneath the tail, earning the dashing man a painfully loud shriek as he pummels her, launching her body into the recovering Blue, before the energy blasts rip through their mottled hides, crawling across them in a shrieking train of conflagration.

Cybernetics whirl and click across the two as they burst out of the fire, first Red with an angry roar, with noticeable dino damage across her side and tail, as cybernetics realign and twist to electro-resolve the affected area with mild stimulation, internal mechanisms releasing more aggression hormones and analgesics into the animal's bloodstream. Pupils visibly contracting, Red leaps towards Roland mindlessly, before her claws hit the ground prenaturely and she's pulled back--by Blue!

Blue, clearly having had enough of being the scapegoat for this exchange, latches onto Red with both claws and viciously snaps at her sister's neck, gnawing on it hard enough to draw blood. This, coincidentally, exposes both to the aggression hormone, and what follows is a bit of an orgy.

Blue bites Red's neck, and then writhing loose, Red pushes back on Blue, whirling on her and kicking her in the middle, before finally just snapping Blue up by the exposed horns, clawing and breaking off several as she hauls her sister to the ground, and throws her across the way, leaving the raptor to smash heavily into the ground at Roland's feet. One would think that with both sisters focused on eachother, Roland could just sneak away, but the audibe trilling shriek Blue emits is cut short by Blue worming around, eel-like, to try and stab Roland through the middle with a spear of a glowing tail, right before Red breathes a dragon gout of fire across the ground in front of them, for Blue to smash him into, and right before Red tries to get a bite of him too.

It's hard to tell exactly who's fighting who right now, and what will happen if both Red and Blue both get ahold of Roland at the same time.

COMBATSYS: Roland full-parries Twins' Vicious Infighting!!

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Roland           1/-------/<<<<<<<|====---\-------\0            Twins

Roland seems fairly complacent after he makes the twin raptors explode; tilting forward the tip of his hat, standing a safe distance away. But a drop of sweat rolls down his forehead when they prove themselves to be more durable and tenacious then he initially thought. Lunging away from Red's initial swipe, it turns out to not be required; as they start... battling each other?

Maybe this means it's over. Roland keeps edging away, trying to get around and way from the dead end they've herded him into. Wait -- that's right. He can just... the hurled raptor makes him jump, Blue landing in front of him and making him reflexively shoot the dart into the ground past her. Before her tail shoots through the air.

Shit... there's no dodging that. No catching it. But -- wait. He can -- there's a green flash, and it thrusts through empty air to impact the wall, Roland standing opposite her now. Flame roars past him, leaving the pair briefly disoriented by the meal impossibly escaping yet again... and vulnerable.

Roland flexes left arm. Muscles bulge, and shockingly his offensive power ramps even higher. It seems there's still a higher echelon that his empowering ki can reach. Six green energy blades form, before Roland roars and begins flicking them out in a rapid fire. Three are aimed to sink into either of the bickering raptors, sinking in and burning with growing instability; before Roland twists around, opening his palm to aim at the pair. A green point of light builds up, before he unleashes a beam of energy that would explode between, just as his thrown weaponry also violently destructs!!

COMBATSYS: Roland successfully hits Twins with Deuces Wild EX.

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Roland           0/-------/-------|=======\=------\1            Twins

Enraptured into the throes of battle, the two genetic twins continue their infighting well after Roland disappears, leaving Blue very, very annoyed, eyes arting around quickly and sniffing the air in great horn-rilling blasts to investigate where the meal-to-be might have gone. Luckily, the ad copy for the Stalker material has luckily run out, else it may have started selling the techs on the Stalkers' great preliminary tracking ability, which was perfected in later models, etc. etc....

Insofar as Blue knows, Roland might have simply phased through the wall, and the striped raptor slashes deep into the wall in aggravation. It's not until Red barks in surprise that Blue turns away, extinguishing the flames in front of her with a click of a frigid talon, ice crawling from the raptor's tapping sickle claw with every step. The alert behavior of the two is birdlike, and both heads dart to focus on Roland the moment he makes himself known on the other side of the firewall. Red snaps at Blue, and Blue snarls visibly. A frigid mist curls from the raptor's jaws as Blue opens them, and lunges at the same time Roland begins flicking blades willy-nilly at the two of them, the barrage of green blades and crackling explosions enough to jar either of them from their infighting just long enough to decide Roland is the target!!

Unfortunately, the explosions are driving them back, blades embedded in flesh ripping open old test scars and evidence of previous bloody battles. They are older girls, with a lot of combat exhibitions in their tally. The energy blasts drag through the air, forming a pale green vapor in the aftereffects of the reactive blasts that put the girls down. Or, at least, they might have--!! Before Roland can blink or even really celebrate a whole lot, the air is split with a vicious biaural roar as the savage sisters burst from the green, raptors kiting through the air like bolts from hell, trailing twin flame-and-frost contrails from their hooked talons as they blitz Roland, moving in eerie unison to savage ...

...his hat. They are clearly tired, and if they get ahold of him in any way, they are probably going to get ahold of and rip his hat to angry shreds. Or at least, mostly angry shreds. We'll see how far they get before passing out on the floor, smouldering green beasts tuckered out at the foot of another successful Ultratech product exhibition.

Regardless, a sudden warning klaxxon blares, as the safety interlocks on the fields disengage a few moments later.

COMBATSYS: Twins can no longer fight.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Roland           0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Roland instinctively blocks Twins' Shadow Twin Rake.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Roland           0/-------/-------|

Green eyes widen in surprise, both at this suicidal rush of the twin raptors, and the realization of what their ultimate goal is. His flesh and blood hand clamps down protectively on his worn cowboy hat; he's had it since the day he swore to become a fighter, and it's the only relic of his ambition he has carried all these years. Green energy ripples through his cybernetic arm, dull hum before a plasma blade ripples out. He strikes twice, clashing against both of those brutal strikes; they deflect to bite into his fleshy shoulder, and gouge harmlessly across his metal bicep. When they finally go down, Roland doubles over, exhaling heavily in obvious relief.

Still... by the metrics, by raw data, he should have lost. These two, combined, certainly should have outdone him...! It seems his unusual combat savvy and strange chi makes him even more of a wild card then Ultratech anticipated...

A slow hand waves in front of Roland's face.

In the background, there is a sudden burst of fire extinguishers. Animal handlers are now on the scene, attaching maglocks to Red and Blue's cybernetic augmentations to keep them from spontaneously reviving and eating several of them. The vet is on site, administering antibiotic and filling injuries with biogels for the time being. The cybernetics team is making nominal repairs to the pair's components. It's actually worth noting that despite Roland's superior performance, the Stalkers are getting much more attention than he is, and after he receives the once-over from the surgeon, he's left in the hands of the grip-tech. Which of course means that Roland is more or less on his own.

The tech nods quietly at his pad, and folds the cover over it. Tucking the pad back in his satchel, he takes out his cell phone, answering a call only he knew he had. He's still standing over Roland, to the point where Roland might notice the mud caked into the nook of his fighting boots betwen the sole and the leather. It's an idiosyncratic choice, given his otherwise clean pressed jeans, keycard lanyard and plaid shirt. The young man talks into his phone briefly "Yeah. Mm. Flying colors. As expected, yeah. No. They'll be fine. Yes. Yes sir."

The phone call ends abruptly -- and the ostensibly lowly grip tech tucks his phone away, taking out his frameless glasses with a visibly dark tint. He puts them on. "Mr. Roland, the department head saw everything. You should consider yourself a free man. We'll make Therapeutics aware that we're taking over your file or the time being. He expects to see you bright and early, seven o'clock. A chopper will be waiting on the laboratory roof when they bring you back."

It's very easy for nobodies to leave under the radar. The grip will turn to make himself scarce, then stop, as if thinking of something. It takes him a moment to decide if he should really say anything.
"Oh! And, uh.. welcome to Ultratech."

Log created on 00:22:36 05/21/2021 by Magi, and last modified on 17:34:18 05/24/2021.