Traceur dashes at the Armadill and fires. He then finishes it off but chucking it into its buddy. Its now one on one and the remaining virus tries to roll over Traceur. The navi manages to avoid the attack, though.
ArmadillA: DELETED!
ArmadillB: DELETED!
ArmadillC: 80
ArmadillD: DELETED!
ShrubbyA: DELETED!
ShrubbyB: DELETED!
KillereyeA: DELETED!
KillereyeB: DELETED!
Terrain: 100% Grass
Traceur: 85 (busted arm)
Gathering Zenny for Travis
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"Whew. Just you left now, and I can heal and get a move on." Traceur waved his stump of an arm, which ended above the elbow. He sighed, staring forlornly at it for a few moments. He wouldn't be trying that method again without some serious practice. Or a better way to do it.
"Need a hand?" Joanne quipped just to hear Traceur's drawn out groan. She raised the last chip, the cannon. The last ranged weapon of not-so-mass destruction they held to load in before the recovery period. "I've still got this one, just remember it."
"...Sure." Traceur responded, sighing. "Just give it to me after I'm done with this final one. I'll use it to repair my armor and what I can of the probable hairline fracture in my skull." He stepped forward, examining the last armadill. It was fairly intact, as could best be said for a construct of corrupt programming by some scum. However, the last attack had damaged it. "I gauge about two more kicks. Maybe an overhead smash'll do the job."
"Well then, you better get to it. I think Travis is looking over here." Joane slid further down in the bench, attempting to slide completely and totally out of sight. Then her curved spine came in contact with one of the tender spots from the fall. She straightened up like a ramrod, her expression that of firmly clenched teeth. "Ow, ow, ow."
"Joanne? Is that you?" The young man from the fountain called. He was dressed in a somber grey suit with a vague pair of sneakers on instead of loafers. Which weren't tied. He had apparently lost his cheap penny-loafers in his room somewhere, Joanne thought appraisingly. Mom wouldn't be happy. "I'm late for class, you know. I've got a pass because my other teacher knows about it, but I've really got to get going to Blowha- I mean, Professor Blanchard's class. Where's my money and Traceur? I've even prepared a little something so he can't stalk him in his spare time or something. I think it looks really cool, too."
"Uh, just a minute, Trav," Joanne said, concentrating suddenly on the battle.
"No, Joanne. I need the damn pet. Now. I can't get more another tardy on the list." Travis reached for the PET as Joanne inserted the Cannon.
"Wait, I've got chips I earned in there!" She exclaimed, grabbing back at the PET.
"Give- it!" Travis grunted, tugging at the PET. In a childish tug-of-war, the brother and sister pulled at the small machine, glaring at each other.
Meanwhile, Traceur made progress, attacking the Armadill with his feet in two sweeping motions before taking out the singular Cannon bullet out with a grin. He didn't care too much about the argument. Either way, he'd be running places. He preferred Jo, but the deal had been agreed to, and she was past her time limit.
Clenching his fist around the bullet, he hacked its programming, reversing the damage variables as best he could. The healing energy flooded into his system as he looked around the area.
Not much else, provided that attack had worked.
1] Rageclaw [40]
2] Rageclaw [40]
3] Conversion: Cannon: Heal [20] (Self)
"Need a hand?" Joanne quipped just to hear Traceur's drawn out groan. She raised the last chip, the cannon. The last ranged weapon of not-so-mass destruction they held to load in before the recovery period. "I've still got this one, just remember it."
"...Sure." Traceur responded, sighing. "Just give it to me after I'm done with this final one. I'll use it to repair my armor and what I can of the probable hairline fracture in my skull." He stepped forward, examining the last armadill. It was fairly intact, as could best be said for a construct of corrupt programming by some scum. However, the last attack had damaged it. "I gauge about two more kicks. Maybe an overhead smash'll do the job."
"Well then, you better get to it. I think Travis is looking over here." Joane slid further down in the bench, attempting to slide completely and totally out of sight. Then her curved spine came in contact with one of the tender spots from the fall. She straightened up like a ramrod, her expression that of firmly clenched teeth. "Ow, ow, ow."
"Joanne? Is that you?" The young man from the fountain called. He was dressed in a somber grey suit with a vague pair of sneakers on instead of loafers. Which weren't tied. He had apparently lost his cheap penny-loafers in his room somewhere, Joanne thought appraisingly. Mom wouldn't be happy. "I'm late for class, you know. I've got a pass because my other teacher knows about it, but I've really got to get going to Blowha- I mean, Professor Blanchard's class. Where's my money and Traceur? I've even prepared a little something so he can't stalk him in his spare time or something. I think it looks really cool, too."
"Uh, just a minute, Trav," Joanne said, concentrating suddenly on the battle.
"No, Joanne. I need the damn pet. Now. I can't get more another tardy on the list." Travis reached for the PET as Joanne inserted the Cannon.
"Wait, I've got chips I earned in there!" She exclaimed, grabbing back at the PET.
"Give- it!" Travis grunted, tugging at the PET. In a childish tug-of-war, the brother and sister pulled at the small machine, glaring at each other.
Meanwhile, Traceur made progress, attacking the Armadill with his feet in two sweeping motions before taking out the singular Cannon bullet out with a grin. He didn't care too much about the argument. Either way, he'd be running places. He preferred Jo, but the deal had been agreed to, and she was past her time limit.
Clenching his fist around the bullet, he hacked its programming, reversing the damage variables as best he could. The healing energy flooded into his system as he looked around the area.
Not much else, provided that attack had worked.
1] Rageclaw [40]
2] Rageclaw [40]
3] Conversion: Cannon: Heal [20] (Self)
last edited by
((Excuse the dramatics))
Traceur and the Armadill glare each other down, the western wind blows through area, chilling each combatant. Their adrenaline fires up, enticing Lady Luck to cast the die.
One step, so the electric navi takes.
A cut, rending the exposed hide of the Armadill splashes data from three clean cuts across the virus' face. It bellows in frustration, but a curbstomp from Traceur produces a sickening sound, silencing the opponent.
Traceur reworks the Cannon chip's data and repairs his wounds.
The cold wind washes over the battlefield, nothing but the victor stands.
ArmadillA: DELETED!
ArmadillB: DELETED!
ArmadillC: DELETED
ArmadillD: DELETED!
ShrubbyA: DELETED!
ShrubbyB: DELETED!
KillereyeA: DELETED!
KillereyeB: DELETED!
Terrain: 100% Grass
Traceur: 100 (busted arm)
-VICTORY-
Get: Sensor1, 600z
Traceur and the Armadill glare each other down, the western wind blows through area, chilling each combatant. Their adrenaline fires up, enticing Lady Luck to cast the die.
One step, so the electric navi takes.
A cut, rending the exposed hide of the Armadill splashes data from three clean cuts across the virus' face. It bellows in frustration, but a curbstomp from Traceur produces a sickening sound, silencing the opponent.
Traceur reworks the Cannon chip's data and repairs his wounds.
The cold wind washes over the battlefield, nothing but the victor stands.
ArmadillA: DELETED!
ArmadillB: DELETED!
ArmadillC: DELETED
ArmadillD: DELETED!
ShrubbyA: DELETED!
ShrubbyB: DELETED!
KillereyeA: DELETED!
KillereyeB: DELETED!
Terrain: 100% Grass
Traceur: 100 (busted arm)
-VICTORY-
Get: Sensor1, 600z
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Travis managed to yank the PET from Joanne's grasp as she realized the battle was over. "Thank-- you!" Travis said scornfully, catching the chips as they fell out. He looked over them for a moment before turning to see his money total, a resounding 3815 z.
"What. Where'd 1200 of my money go, Joanne?" Travis asked, a glare plain to see on his face.
"Uh, I uh-- I spent it for a couple chips, so that--- you could bust better with Traceur!" Joanne uttered, lying through her teeth.
"Uhuh." Travi's glare became significantly more squinty as he looked at her. "You owe me a biiiig favor, little sister. Stick around campus for a while."
"...Fine." Joanne glared at her brother, realizing that this was really her fault. She sighed slightly, starting to walk away.
"So you're Traceur, huh? Well, I hope you're not too much into fun, because we're going to a reaaal douchebag of a teacher, from what I hear. You were required material." Travis sighed, beginning to walk to class.
[Jack Out]
"What. Where'd 1200 of my money go, Joanne?" Travis asked, a glare plain to see on his face.
"Uh, I uh-- I spent it for a couple chips, so that--- you could bust better with Traceur!" Joanne uttered, lying through her teeth.
"Uhuh." Travi's glare became significantly more squinty as he looked at her. "You owe me a biiiig favor, little sister. Stick around campus for a while."
"...Fine." Joanne glared at her brother, realizing that this was really her fault. She sighed slightly, starting to walk away.
"So you're Traceur, huh? Well, I hope you're not too much into fun, because we're going to a reaaal douchebag of a teacher, from what I hear. You were required material." Travis sighed, beginning to walk to class.
[Jack Out]