A swirl of nonsense data filled the air as RobotMan's shape materialized, his solid feet meeting the ground with a faint clank. The glowing blue circles that passed for eyes widened as they scanned the area. "THiS iS... SOOO COOL!!" RobotMan jogged in place, hunched over in a vain attempt to contain himself. He spread his arms and spun, landing unceremoniously on his back to stare up at the shifting sky.
"Ahem." Dr. Suba's disembodied voice crackled into existence. "Transmission went off without a hitch, and I guess we can call that a "yes" for basic mobility and navigation... Let's see his combat capabilities. I assume you've got some experience there?"
"No way, man!" Mortimer smoothly intoned. "I'm not big on violence, y'know? And besides, uh, I find the whole thing a little bit confusing. Navis aren't really my field, brother!"
"i CAN DO iT. i'M THE SUPER FiGHTiNG ROBOT, ROBOTMAN!" The navi leapt to his feet, striking a ridiculous pose. "BESiDES, i'M PRETTY SURE ViOLENCE AGAiNST ViRUSES iS KARMiCALLY OKAY."
"Alright, well... We'll see how it goes. I'm lifting the firewall, so get ready!"
((Battle one! Time to hustle or die trying!))
Yeah! Robot adventure!
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The quirky robotic Navi was rather excited to finally be on the network. As he rather vocally expressed his joy of this event, a trio of Metools, who were just minding their own business, decided to move in to investigate the oddly excited voice in the distance. They quickly waddled foward towards the Navi, and though disappointed in their discovery, they made battle preparations and wielded their mattocks threateningly. A single Metool made a battle cry, rallying its two comrades to begin the assault: "MEEEEEEP!"
Viruses Identified!
MetoolA: 40HP
MetoolB: 40HP
MetoolC: 40HP
Terrain: 100% Normal
RobotMan.EXE: 150HP
-(Battle #1 Ready, Fight!)-
Viruses Identified!
MetoolA: 40HP
MetoolB: 40HP
MetoolC: 40HP
Terrain: 100% Normal
RobotMan.EXE: 150HP
-(Battle #1 Ready, Fight!)-
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"Mettaurs? I mean, Mettools? Shouldn't there be -- oh, well. Here, Mortimer, you're going to need..." Dr. Suba's voice trailed off among the faint clattering of plastic, punctuated with an enthusiastic "Thanks, chief! RobotMan, are you feelin' ready?" from Mortimer. RobotMan nodded absently, glancing over his shoulder at the three squat shapes that were closing in.
"SOME THiNGS SHOWED UP," he whirred, lifting the closest one despite its flailing and holding it at arm's length. "THEY'RE, UH... KiND OF WEiRD... UWAAH!!" The robot recoiled in shock as the mettool, deciding it wasn't the type to like getting picked up and scrutinized, took a close swing at his faceplate. His arm was up and in position as the virus bounced to the floor, his eyes flaring hot red as a burst of light flashed from the cannon his arm had become, although with his hasty aim it was aimed more towards the mets in the back than the one he had just dropped.
"Oh, so that's how it works. Neato!" Mortimer's baritone gave RobotMan pause, although the light in his eyes failed to recede. "I'm gonna use the rest of these chips, robuddy -- you can take care of them, right?" The robot struck a silent pose, gun-arm outstretched. He executed a quick tumble over the tiles, a faint rumble echoing from his plated chest as he concentrated on lining up his next shot.
"He's not like that usually, is he?" Dr. Suba confided to Mortimer back in the real world, keeping his voice slightly hushed. The navi on the lab's monitor was scuttling back and forth restlessly, gun held at the ready, just daring the viruses to make a move. "I mean, he seemed so -- er, what's that?" The doctor leaned in even closer, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. Tiny strands of data were slowly tearing free of one of the mets and flowing toward RobotMan, eventually disappearing into his body.
"I told you, man! I wouldn't have come all this way if it wasn't for something important, you know." The hippie's glasses glinted in the harsh lab light. "Wasting people's time just isn't my bag, brother." He slotted the slivers of blue plastic into the old PET without another word, his shaded gaze returning to the incomprehensible readout on the tiny screen.
"TiME TO DiiiE... i WON'T FORGET YOU, i PROMISE!!" The growl grew into a roar as RobotMan found his alignment, a flash of light accompanying the faintly disappointing pchew that signalled that the shot had been taken. He surveyed the damage, the fiery glare in his eyes failing to subside.
=========
1 SPECIAL ACTION - Bug MettoolA
2 Cannon to MettoolC - 40, A
3 Shotgun to MettoolA, Spread to MettoolB - 50, A
ROBOT CURSE
5 DRAIN TO METTOOLA, SPLASH TO METTOOLB
"SOME THiNGS SHOWED UP," he whirred, lifting the closest one despite its flailing and holding it at arm's length. "THEY'RE, UH... KiND OF WEiRD... UWAAH!!" The robot recoiled in shock as the mettool, deciding it wasn't the type to like getting picked up and scrutinized, took a close swing at his faceplate. His arm was up and in position as the virus bounced to the floor, his eyes flaring hot red as a burst of light flashed from the cannon his arm had become, although with his hasty aim it was aimed more towards the mets in the back than the one he had just dropped.
"Oh, so that's how it works. Neato!" Mortimer's baritone gave RobotMan pause, although the light in his eyes failed to recede. "I'm gonna use the rest of these chips, robuddy -- you can take care of them, right?" The robot struck a silent pose, gun-arm outstretched. He executed a quick tumble over the tiles, a faint rumble echoing from his plated chest as he concentrated on lining up his next shot.
"He's not like that usually, is he?" Dr. Suba confided to Mortimer back in the real world, keeping his voice slightly hushed. The navi on the lab's monitor was scuttling back and forth restlessly, gun held at the ready, just daring the viruses to make a move. "I mean, he seemed so -- er, what's that?" The doctor leaned in even closer, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. Tiny strands of data were slowly tearing free of one of the mets and flowing toward RobotMan, eventually disappearing into his body.
"I told you, man! I wouldn't have come all this way if it wasn't for something important, you know." The hippie's glasses glinted in the harsh lab light. "Wasting people's time just isn't my bag, brother." He slotted the slivers of blue plastic into the old PET without another word, his shaded gaze returning to the incomprehensible readout on the tiny screen.
"TiME TO DiiiE... i WON'T FORGET YOU, i PROMISE!!" The growl grew into a roar as RobotMan found his alignment, a flash of light accompanying the faintly disappointing pchew that signalled that the shot had been taken. He surveyed the damage, the fiery glare in his eyes failing to subside.
=========
1 SPECIAL ACTION - Bug MettoolA
2 Cannon to MettoolC - 40, A
3 Shotgun to MettoolA, Spread to MettoolB - 50, A
ROBOT CURSE 5 DRAIN TO METTOOLA, SPLASH TO METTOOLB
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[Your drain move and picking up the Met kinda constitutes godmoding, but I rolled the moves in the order your summary listed them and the guns hit first, so your drain is moot.]
Picking up one of the Metools in intense curiosity, RobotMan found that they did not particularly like being picked up, accidentally letting off a cannon shot in the meantime. The shot immediately deleted the Metool, causing the others to rise to action and smack their pickaxes towards the ground. Two shockwaves rose from their weapons, one of them hitting RobotMan for minor damage. (10) A well-placed Shotgun burst later, and they were punished for the hit.
MetoolA: DELETED
MetoolB: DELETED
MetoolC: DELETED
Terrain: 100% Normal
RobotMan.EXE: 140HP
-- BATTLE 01, VICTORY!! --
-- REWARDS --
[Guard1] Battlechip, 130z
Picking up one of the Metools in intense curiosity, RobotMan found that they did not particularly like being picked up, accidentally letting off a cannon shot in the meantime. The shot immediately deleted the Metool, causing the others to rise to action and smack their pickaxes towards the ground. Two shockwaves rose from their weapons, one of them hitting RobotMan for minor damage. (10) A well-placed Shotgun burst later, and they were punished for the hit.
MetoolA: DELETED
MetoolB: DELETED
MetoolC: DELETED
Terrain: 100% Normal
RobotMan.EXE: 140HP
-- BATTLE 01, VICTORY!! --
-- REWARDS --
[Guard1] Battlechip, 130z
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((Oh, whoops. I kind of assumed passives were autohit, and the picking-it-up-and-looking-at-it was intended wholly as fluff before I went back and made it a Bug action. Sorry about that, and thanks for letting me off easy this time -- I'm a little rusty, I guess.
... Aaaah! My worst crime of all is forgetting to link battle music! One more try, then!))
The shockwave caught RobotMan just as he squeezed off the fatal shot, sending the unprepared robot flying a short distance away, rolling and clattering to a graceless halt. "HAAH... AM i THE WiNNER...? OR AM i DEAD AND JUST FORGOT ABOUT iT?" He got to his feet slowly, surveying the junk data swirling together to form the typical spoils of battle, small number chains breaking off to orbit his head.
"No, baby, you beat 'em! Y'still need to control your temper, though. Just the dharma, daddy-o!" Mortimer gave the PET an enthusiastic thumbs-up, despite the lack of any visual feed. Dr. Suba coughed politely before breaking in.
"The bit at the end was interesting, but I still don't think this is enough to go on. Funding's been tight lately -- if I can't prove to the board that this'll be some kind of breakthrough, they're just going to dump more grants into coding realistic sweating algorithms for humanoid navis or whatever the hell else R+D's been wasting their time on lately." He slumped into a nearby chair, pinching his chin thoughtfully. "We just need to test him some more. Send him out into the net, get him to... I dunno, do things!"
"Brother Sam, we can talk about that later. Right now, little Friend Robot is out there in the lab network having the time of his life -- do you think there's room for a little more globetrotting?" Dr. Suba nodded silently, obviously lost in thought.
RobotMan, meanwhile, had lost interest in the whole conversation and had begun to wander again. Occasionally a little bit of debris would tumble after him for a short while before his eager jog became too much to keep up with. He hummed as he went, not paying much attention to anything at all.
((Battle 2! Let's see if I can keep from fucking up this time!))
... Aaaah! My worst crime of all is forgetting to link battle music! One more try, then!))
The shockwave caught RobotMan just as he squeezed off the fatal shot, sending the unprepared robot flying a short distance away, rolling and clattering to a graceless halt. "HAAH... AM i THE WiNNER...? OR AM i DEAD AND JUST FORGOT ABOUT iT?" He got to his feet slowly, surveying the junk data swirling together to form the typical spoils of battle, small number chains breaking off to orbit his head.
"No, baby, you beat 'em! Y'still need to control your temper, though. Just the dharma, daddy-o!" Mortimer gave the PET an enthusiastic thumbs-up, despite the lack of any visual feed. Dr. Suba coughed politely before breaking in.
"The bit at the end was interesting, but I still don't think this is enough to go on. Funding's been tight lately -- if I can't prove to the board that this'll be some kind of breakthrough, they're just going to dump more grants into coding realistic sweating algorithms for humanoid navis or whatever the hell else R+D's been wasting their time on lately." He slumped into a nearby chair, pinching his chin thoughtfully. "We just need to test him some more. Send him out into the net, get him to... I dunno, do things!"
"Brother Sam, we can talk about that later. Right now, little Friend Robot is out there in the lab network having the time of his life -- do you think there's room for a little more globetrotting?" Dr. Suba nodded silently, obviously lost in thought.
RobotMan, meanwhile, had lost interest in the whole conversation and had begun to wander again. Occasionally a little bit of debris would tumble after him for a short while before his eager jog became too much to keep up with. He hummed as he went, not paying much attention to anything at all.
((Battle 2! Let's see if I can keep from fucking up this time!))
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And so Robotman went out to do things. He strolled out into the wide open world, soon finding some viruses to play with. Hopping about a couple of swiveling Gunner turrets were springy Bunny viruses, happily using the turrets as a cool place to play a little bit of tag. Unfortunately, their behavior turned hostile when they spotted Robotman, and they went into action quickly.
-- ENEMIES --
Gunner A: 60 HP
Gunner B: 60 HP
Bunny A: 50 HP
Bunny B: 50 HP
-- NAVIGATOR --
RobotMan.EXE: 140 HP
-- TERRAIN --
100% Metal
-- BATTLE 02, READY? START!! --
-- ENEMIES --
Gunner A: 60 HP
Gunner B: 60 HP
Bunny A: 50 HP
Bunny B: 50 HP
-- NAVIGATOR --
RobotMan.EXE: 140 HP
-- TERRAIN --
100% Metal
-- BATTLE 02, READY? START!! --