Getting the Bearings...

BLARGH HEALING+DELETION.

SeedbatA: DELETED
SeedbatB: DELETED
MetoolA: DELETED
MetoolB: DELETED
MetoolC: DELETED

Zombieman: 100 HP

-Victory!-
Prize: 375z

Transfering the Zenny to his account, Archard grinned,

"Way to go Old Man, try to bore the viruses to death next time. Might be more effective."

Zombieman rolled the one eye resting in his head. Pulling the other from his pocket, he deftly switched them with a dull squish.

"Clearly, as Old as I am, I would trash you at anything, Archard."

A challenging grin came to Archard's face,

"And can you do this?"

Performing a series of rather impressive dance maneuvers, Archard sank back into his chair, looking triumphant. Zombieman just shrugged, reaching into his mouth, and unhinging his jaw. Placing it on his head, he cracked the parody of a goofy smile infront of the screen. Archard looked dumbstruck

"Right, I have to give you that one."

laughing echoed around the area, Zombieman's walk broadcasted his victory, even with his jaw still on his head.

BUM BUM BUM...
SPIKEY BRIGADE!

SpikeyA: 90 HP
SpikeyB: 90 HP
SpikeyC: 90 HP

Zombieman: 100 HP

-BATTLE 4! FIGHT!-

Zombieman looked around wearily, the pack of spikys surrounding him. Flame snorted from their muzzles, their powerful paws leaving steaming tracks in their wake. Thier slow lope slowly forming a net from which Zombieman knew he would be unable to escpae.

"Listen Zombieman, you need to get out of there, dont let their circle close you in! Im uploading a Shotgun and Ringlog, try to blow through!"

Archards carefully brought up his PET menu and began transfering the Shotgun and Ringlog data. Familiar silver data streamed into the net, his Shotgun forming in hand. When Zombieman could feel the heat of one of the Spiky's plume of flames, he filled the air with pellets, dashing through the circle, he heard the rumble of the Ringlog forming from its swirling green data, and sent careening down upon the pack.

As Zombieman regained his balence he span on the spot, seeing the fallen log and a cloud of unsettled dust, he remained nimble, so as to dodge an attack sent from the cover of the dust.

_____
Overview

1) Shotgun to Spiky A, splash to Spiky B (50 DMG + Splash)
2) Ringlog1 to Spiky A and Spiky C (50 DMG, can hit two targets)
3) Dodge

Deleting the first Spikey, but only weakening the other two, Zombieman then gets a large chunk taken out of his HP as a Spikey hits.

SpikeyA: DELETED
SpikeyB: 40 HP
SpikeyC: 40 HP

Zombieman: 70 HP

Zombieman slowly pulled himself to his feet, a good chunk of his torso splattered around the ground behind him. The Spiky responsible for his sudden loss of weight prowled infront of him. Growling and sniffing the ground, searching for the bloody chunks. Zombieman growled in return, activating his personal Phylactery program, he reformed his frame, sneering at the Spiky, confused as to the loss of the Scent.

Thanking Archard, he brought up his buffer subroutine, loading the Cannon data, his barrel hummed menacingly, before roaring, sending a red hot shell at the smoking dog.

His second program activated, creating a set of dark red blades fit over his fragile looking hand. The other dog whined as the furious corpse stepped through the dust, slashing with his clawed hand.

He surveyed the scene, and attempted to stay wary, learning from the Metool last battle. Virus' persistance was never to be underestimated.

_____
Overview

1) Phylactery to Zombieman (Recover 30 HP)
2) Cannon to Spiky B (40 DMG)
3) Rageclaw to Spiky C (40 DMG)

Yeah, persistence is not to be underestimated.
But they're DEAD. It's kinda hard to underestimate that.

SpikeyA: DELETED
SpikeyB: DELETED
SpikeyC: DELETED

Zombieman: 100 HP

-Victory!-
Prize: Heatshot

Zombieman attempted to grin, only barely catching his jaw in is hand, he suffered through Archard's mocking laughter.

"Guess your still not used to repairing yourself then eh? Still, great work! those dogs were a whole lot tougher than the other viruses we fought."

Zombieman rolled his eyes as gray data danced around his jaw, repairing it. Transfering the newly acquired Heatshot to Archard's PET, he began to shuffle forward once again.

"Yeah, your still just hurting because I can hold my jaw on top of my head."

Archard just grinned.

HOLY HORDE OF METOOLS, BATMAN!
Aprroaching Zombieman is a giant horde of metools, their yellow helmets gleaming in the light of the net. Their pickaxes are raised in the air, ready to attack, and pure malice glows in their eyes.
OH, BOY.
Luckily, a small group breaks away from the horde, nodding at the others. The message was clear: "We can take care of him. You all carry on." The large swarm moves away, leaving the small group to take care of the latest nuisance.

Metool Horde: 320 HP

Zombieman: 100 HP

-BATTLE 5! MINIBOSS! FIGHT!-

"..."

"..."

From his position in the Real World, laying on his bed, Archard stared into his PET screen. From his vantage point above Zombieman's bony right shoulder, he saw the literal horde of Metool viruses approaching, and sure as hell felt the sweat that accumulated upon his palms.

Zombieman's own palms didnt sweat. A few layers of skin did peel away and fell off. That was normal however. When the Metool horde approached, he nervously clenched and unclenched his 4 fingered hand, swinging his steel pipe circularly in the other.

A puff of hot air, relief msotly, escaped from a hole in Zombieman's side, when the Horde split, with but a tiny fragment marching in unison his way. Bright pairs of yellow eyes blinked at him, narrowing with hate.

"The thousand nations of the Persian Empire decend upon you..."

Zombieman looked at his Operator with curiosity. Archard grinned, and shrugged.

"Just trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation."

"So, while torn apart by shockwaves, I can be laughing! Oh I understand!"

Their dialouge cut by the thunderous march of the Metools, Zombieman launched into action. A low whistle echoed off the panels, data coded into being, the Ringlog1 chip's programming uploaded by Zombieman's buffer. Crashing down near the front of the horde, Zombieman saw Metools scatter away. Unable to assess the damage, if any, his Cannon materialized in his hands.

The smooth metal dug into the cloth of his leather jacket. His bright orange targeting program flickered into existance, tracking the targets in the horde. With a moments diliberation, due to the multitude of viruses, Zombieman picked a rather clueless looking Metool in the center of the mob, and unleashed his deadly payload.

The Metool's eyes flashed, as power began to charge around their pickaxes, giving them an ominous glow. Dropping his cannon to relieve himself of its encumbrance, it dematerialized before it hit the ground. Preparing to avoid the gauntlet of shockwaves that was soon to follow.

_____
Overview

1) Ringlog1 to Metool Horde (50 DMG + Splash)
2) Cannon to Metool Horde (40 DMG)
3) Dodge

Hitting the group with his Ringlog, which would have normally deleted two of the Metools, Zombieman is surprised to find them only slightly weakened! It would appear the group shares a single HP balance! Raising their pickaxes as one, the metools fire three shockwaves at Zombieman, just as he fires his cannon. The projectile damages the hive-minded viruses, and he manages to dodge their attacks just in time, the ground brutally being ripped apart by the force of the shockwave where he had been.

Metool Horde: 230 HP

Zombieman: 100 HP

Zombieman's acrobatics could be compared to the floundering of a fish out of water, if one was particularly vindictive against the fish. Nevertheless, Zombieman's own form was undamaged, in contrast to the panels he stood on the edge of. Deep gashes were carved into the surface and rubble lingered on edges.

Gathering his wits (and body parts), Zombieman pressed the offensive. Knowing that only a few seconds remained untill another wave was thrown at him, and taking comfort in the deletion of several Metools, he continued to work his way closer to the horde, thinning it out on the way. Archard's screen flittered past, a concerned expression on his face.

"Alright Zombieman, im sending you our mid-range firepower, Shotgun and Heatshot and on route."

As Zombieman's buffer system filled, his Shotgun materialized in hand. Deftly loading the double barrels with dark gray shells, he paused, dropping into a gash in the panels. using a small peice of rubble as a post, he pulled the trigger, launching a hail of pellets at the horde.

Just as quickly, he was on the move again. dumping the spent casings on the ground, where they dissolved, he slid two firey red shells into the chamber. The air burned as a smouldering, white-hot slug exploded from the barrel, blazing straight at the horde.

Taking cover in a particularly impressive ravine, Zombieman oberserved the horde. Milling around, their Pickaxes again hummed and sang with destructive energy. He popped his knee back into it's socket. He would need it to run.

_____
Overview

1) Shotgun to Metool Horde (50 DMG + Splash)
2) Heatshot to Metool Horde (40 DMG + Splash [fire])
3) Dodge

Blasting the Horde twice, the Heatshot is lucky enough to hit two metools with a single strike, dealing double damage to the Horde HP. Attacking him, one of the shockwaves manages to deal minor damage (10).

Metool Horde: 100 HP

Zombieman: 90 HP

Time slowed around Zombieman as he realized that his rediculous looking leaping prance took him right into the arc of a Metool shockwave. He grunted and fell to his knees, however, his core programming allready racing to repair the relatively minor damage. Zombieman looked up at the holoscreen floating infront of him as gray data streamed around him.

"Archard, what kind of weaponry do we have available?"

Archard's grimace told him all he needed to know.

"Sorry Old Man, we just havnt been active enough. All i've got coded is our Rageclaw. It should be enough, just make sure you dont overuse it. We dont want it breaking, or worse, the Metools to be able to prepare for it."

Nodding his acknowledgement, he looked over the depleated horde. The nearest Metool crouched only a few meters from him, it's pickaxe waving wildly and eyes glinting in the light.

As Zombieman's Rageclaw slowly materialized, the wild brandishing on the glowing pickaxe magnified. Before the metool alerted the others, Zombieman was in their ranks, sweeping and striking with his rage claw. Picking two of the viruses in particular, he swept through their number.

upon reaching the other side, he danced away, facing down the wall of angry metools and their humming pickaxes.

"Oh Shi-"

_____
Overview

Skill) Conversion of Charge attack to Zombieman (2x2x8=32/2=16 HP Restored)
1) Rageclaw to Metool Horde (40 DMG)
2) Rageclaw to Metool Horde (40 DMG)
3) Dodge

Tearing through the viruses, Zombieman turns, only to see them all unfazed, their pickaxes raised for a strike.
Oh Shi-"
Before he could jump away, the metools all strike as one, their shockwaves combining to increase the attack fourfold (40). Thrown to the ground, Zombieman would have it in his best interests to FINISH THEM.

Metool Horde: 20 HP

Zombieman: 60 HP

Zombieman groaned in pain. laying flat on his back, vulnerable to the pack of Metools that sent him flying.

"Zombieman! are you allright?"

Archard's screen flittered wildly, zooming around the bloody navi frantically.

"I think so, just let me just finish this thing."

Zombieman's words echoed bravery. However, when attempting to roll to his feet, he found his left leg missing, laying several feet to the right. Zombieman's head lolled back, rested on the ground, and swore violently as his breath condensed in the air around him. Accessing his Phylactery Subroutine, his form dematerialized into a mass of gray and red data, flickering in and out of existance. A few seconds later, he reformed, on his feet, facing down the remnants of the once mighty horde.

His claw once again fit itself over his now fully formed hand. Doing his best to brush off the congealed, coppery blood and dust from his stained leather jacket. Takeing special care to clean his AC/DC patch, he stared down the Metools. Noticing a particularly imperious one that rubbed him the wrong way, Zombieman lept, slashing toward and past the haughty Metool. He burst through the group, and spotting a Metool slinking around the others, He viciously swung his bent, gnarly steel pipe. Not because he felt like it would do much damage, but because he was feeling particularly vindictive.

Getting your leg ripped off tended to do that to a person.

_____
Overview

Skill) Conversion of Charged Buster to Zombieman (2x2x8=32/2=16 HP Restored)
1) Phylactery to Zombieman (30 HP Restored)
2) Rageclaw to Metool Horde (40 DMG)
3) Buster attack to Metool Horde (2x2x2=8 DMG)

HAR HAR. VINDICTIVE WIN.

Metool Horde: DELETED

Zombieman: 100 HP

-Victory!-
Prizes: 300z, Guard1

Carefully stepping over the disintigrating helmet of the Metool he brained, Zombieman surveyed the scene. The only evidence of the battle were the gashes of force in the ground and the column of Metools marching into the distance. Archard's face broke out into a wide grin.

"Haha! Allright Zombieman! That was amazing. How are you feeling?"

Casually spinning his pipe in his left hand, Zombie brushed his hair out of his eyes with his right. Literally. Replacing his eye, he observed the column.

"Invigorated. I do wonder what such a large group is planning. Do you know anything about Metools, Archard?"

Archard shook his head, still pleased at Zombieman's performance in the fight. Mirroring Archard, Zombieman shrugged, before walking in the direction from which the Metools arrived.

Whatever it is they're doing, they don't want you butting in. Because here's the welcoming comittee, with their friends.

MetoolA: 40 HP
MetoolB: 40 HP
MetoolC: 40 HP
SpookyA: 50 HP
SpookyB: 50 HP
Spikey: 90 HP

Zombieman: 100 HP

-BATTLE 6! FIGHT!-

Zombieman was taken aback by the variety in the pack of viruses that prowled up the stretch infront of him. Three Metools were hearded infront of the large Spiky, its smoking fur mixing with the shimmer of two ghost-like viruses. Sparkles and lights appearing and dissappearing like Will-O-the-Wisps as the ghosts blinked around the pack.

"Well Zombieman, we know our weaker Battlechips can vaporize a Metool in one go, but the Spiky is tougher. Im not sure about the Ghosts. Id hit them with a shotgun if you can. Sending A Ringlong, Heatshot, and Shotgun to you."

Zombieman circled the pack of viruses, idly rubbing his hand down the stock of his shotgun, he imitated the Spiky pack that accosted him not long ago. When the tornado of green data swam into being, it drew the virus' attention, the ghosts swarmed around the data, deciphering the code. Hoping to end their pondering, Zombieman pulled the trigger of the shotgun in his hands, creating a bellowing roar, and sending a wave of shrapnel and pellets toward Casper and his little friend.

Sliding a bright red shell into the chamber, he cocked the weapon menacingly. Looking through the haze of displaced dirt, disturbed by the falling log, Zombieman saw the loping gait of a Spiky, flanked by a small domed figure. Lineing up his sights, the burst of white-hot pellets and flame burned a path through the smog.

Looking around warily, Zombieman knew that the blasts had broadcasted his position, even in the miasma of dust. Checking and rechecking over his shoulder, he searched for any sign of a virus creeping through the dust.

_____
Overview

1) Ringlog1 to Spiky, splash to Metool A (50 DMG + Splash [Wood])
2) Shotgun to Spooky A, splash to Spooky B (50 DMG + Splash)
3) Heatshot to Spiky, splash to Metool B (40 DMG + Splash [Fire])