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[M&M] Saving the World
Traikan
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
Players:
It's Saturday morning in New York City.
Brightly colored figures soar across the sky alone or in groups while average citizens walk or drive to and fro, casting the occasional nervous glance upwards. Everyone avoids the scar in the middle of 5th Street, left over from the Atomizer's Molecule-Masher. Police Officers and Meta-Cops patrol the streets and the skies and somewhere, someone throws a punch that permanently remodels an apartment.
Welcome to Earth. Across the world similar events occur, roughly 10% of the population is now listed as confirmed Meta-Humans, up from the 6% figure in the 1980 analysis. New, mightier heroes emerge daily while those that already have powers find themselves getting even stronger. The citizens, economists and politicians of the world race to adapt modern society to the accelerating shifts in the human race.
The divisions between supers and normals have never been more obvious, and more than ever before, the few have power over the many.
But that's neither here nor there. Back to New York City...
Dominating the scene is the Meta Mall. A shining building lit up with an array of lights even during the middle of the day, the Meta Mall is the “One Stop Super Shop” and isn't shy about telling everyone.
Tides of costumed people roll in and out of the numerous doors, their outfits ranging from the practical to the downright obscene. Somewhere in this monolithic structure are a few individuals, some are clearly distinct from their peers, while others simply have yet to show their potential.
And these individuals are about to decide the fate of the planet.
It's game time.
We're kicking off in full RP mode, so go ahead and post an intro for your character. This will be the only thing the rest of the group knows about you, so if you have terrible secrets or just want to surprise them with your powers, feel free to leave stuff out.
After the intro it's freeform RP in the Meta Mall, for a kicking off point consider explaining why you're there and what you hope to accomplish, and if you want to approach any of the other characters to start some awesome roleplaying then “just because” is a highly acceptable reason.
Combat will use soft initiative, meaning you guys can act in whatever order you want, then the badguys go. If you have an awesome team strategy in mind (like “throw me!”) then you should probably post and inform your partner in crime of the plan. Otherwise just post your power and your target(s) and some awesome descriptive flavor.
I'd like to keep the pacing up, but I'm not going to get all rowdy about it. Don't get too hung up on your decisions, making poor choices is half the fun.
I'll repost the combat stuff at the beginning of each fight, like so:
Posting stuff reference:
And now...
What do you do?
BEAST!
Takyris
Ringo
VanityPants
Munkus Beaver
Takyris
Ringo
VanityPants
Munkus Beaver
It's Saturday morning in New York City.
Brightly colored figures soar across the sky alone or in groups while average citizens walk or drive to and fro, casting the occasional nervous glance upwards. Everyone avoids the scar in the middle of 5th Street, left over from the Atomizer's Molecule-Masher. Police Officers and Meta-Cops patrol the streets and the skies and somewhere, someone throws a punch that permanently remodels an apartment.
Welcome to Earth. Across the world similar events occur, roughly 10% of the population is now listed as confirmed Meta-Humans, up from the 6% figure in the 1980 analysis. New, mightier heroes emerge daily while those that already have powers find themselves getting even stronger. The citizens, economists and politicians of the world race to adapt modern society to the accelerating shifts in the human race.
The divisions between supers and normals have never been more obvious, and more than ever before, the few have power over the many.
But that's neither here nor there. Back to New York City...
Dominating the scene is the Meta Mall. A shining building lit up with an array of lights even during the middle of the day, the Meta Mall is the “One Stop Super Shop” and isn't shy about telling everyone.
Tides of costumed people roll in and out of the numerous doors, their outfits ranging from the practical to the downright obscene. Somewhere in this monolithic structure are a few individuals, some are clearly distinct from their peers, while others simply have yet to show their potential.
And these individuals are about to decide the fate of the planet.
It's game time.
We're kicking off in full RP mode, so go ahead and post an intro for your character. This will be the only thing the rest of the group knows about you, so if you have terrible secrets or just want to surprise them with your powers, feel free to leave stuff out.
After the intro it's freeform RP in the Meta Mall, for a kicking off point consider explaining why you're there and what you hope to accomplish, and if you want to approach any of the other characters to start some awesome roleplaying then “just because” is a highly acceptable reason.
Combat will use soft initiative, meaning you guys can act in whatever order you want, then the badguys go. If you have an awesome team strategy in mind (like “throw me!”) then you should probably post and inform your partner in crime of the plan. Otherwise just post your power and your target(s) and some awesome descriptive flavor.
I'd like to keep the pacing up, but I'm not going to get all rowdy about it. Don't get too hung up on your decisions, making poor choices is half the fun.
I'll repost the combat stuff at the beginning of each fight, like so:
Posting stuff reference:
Out of character stuff should be preceded by OOC:
Combat mechanics should be written in italics, i.e. I use my Strike power on Alfonso the Large
Combat flavor and dialogue can be written in plain text. i.e. Bud the Chud leaps over the table and lunges at Alfonso the Large. “You look delicious!”
Combat is soft initiative, act in whatever order you want. If someone else posts while you're writing and it invalidates your actions, you can edit your post.
Combat mechanics should be written in italics, i.e. I use my Strike power on Alfonso the Large
Combat flavor and dialogue can be written in plain text. i.e. Bud the Chud leaps over the table and lunges at Alfonso the Large. “You look delicious!”
Combat is soft initiative, act in whatever order you want. If someone else posts while you're writing and it invalidates your actions, you can edit your post.
And now...
What do you do?
Traikan on
0
Posts
A lot of people knew who he was, but not a lot of people really knew him.
The Block. Block Boy. The LEGO Hero. That blue guy.
Behind the curtains of the store room, The Block took a deep breath. Some people didn't think he even breathed, but he did, and this time it was rough and shaky as he peeked from behind the curtain. He never got over it, really. Even if sometimes it was a little boring, he could feel the block pieces shaking in his stomach from nerves as he saw the crowds gathering.
They were launching a new line of toys, and as usual Block Man had to be there to kick-start the event. A show like this brought crowds of "norms" to even the reaches of the Meta Mall. Block took just one more second to himself.
Then he detached his left arm, quickly reassembling the blocks into a new shape. When he tossed it out onto the stage, it took the form of a motorcycle and spun away. The crowd roared. Block's legs turned into propulsion canons almost out of habit and he blasted his way past the curtain, into the air. He made his debut at the Meta Mall, a blue block boy shooting through the sky, doing a triple flip and landing on his sleek motorcycle as it popped up onto its back wheel.
OOC:
Shaking his head, Eddie clips his helmet and shades onto his messenger bag before donning a black jacket with white stylized 9's on the back and shoulders. He slips a black domino mask from a pocket of the jacket, and places it over his eyes before hefting the messenger bag and searching his reflection in the window of a nearby storefront. Short, skinny, male, and Asian was the sight that greeted him. The jacket and the domino mask did more to make him look like a weirdo or a chinese gangster stereotype than a superhero. But that was okay, Eddie Nines wasn't supposed to be a hero. That was for other guys.
"I hate this place," he says to his reflection, before moving off towards the Mall's entrance.
I looked up from the poem I was writing.
Another high school jerk puckering his lips up just so he and his friends could laugh at me the moment I leaned in for a kiss. I couldn't help it, I had to do it or I'd lose my kissing booth job. Who were they to judge me, anyway? Robots are neither man nor woman, we are built but in the image of our creator. Sure, I was able to get a metallic boner to put most human men to shame, but did that bit of hardware really define who I was in this world?
"DreamoBot Kissthousand, I said one, please." At least he was polite.
"You know, paying to kiss me makes you look worse than it makes me look. I'm just doing my job." I flipped my long, black hair behind my ear.
He wasn't fooled by my attempt at confidence, my electronic voice wavered just enough for his bully ears to register the inner pain that haunted my robot soul.
"Just kiss me already," he said, leaning in closer.
Slowly I leaned toward him, waiting for the moment his fleshy lips would meet my iron ones. And the second they met, even over the sound of circuits within my chest connecting in an electronic symphony of what one can only assume is robotic love, I heard the onlooking boys burst out in laughter and ridicule.
And I did the one thing I was programmed to do best. I burst into tears.
"EmoBot 3000!" they all chanted in unison as black eyeliner ran down my cheeks.
He took a small sip. "I do not need extra security."
"I'm afraid I must protest," said Clara Kendra, the chief of the secret service. "You've been receiving numerous death threats ever since your recent meta-taxes, and after that attempt last month..."
"My approval rating went up fourteen points." He took another long sip. "If another loony comes after me, I'll send him to the hospital, my campaign gets a little easier. It's a shame my public relations manager can't manufacture these guys, I'd never lose a swing state again."
Rex turned his glare to Louie Lun, the Green Party's unofficial 'face-man.' "And how is our would-be Wilkes Booth?"
Louie shifted uncomfortably under the Presidential Glare. "Er um...six broken ribs, a concussion, two broken arms, a ruptured spleen, a torn..."
"Shut up Louie." Rex poured himself more Johnny Walker Blue and took another sip.
"Er uh...about the um...slogans sir, mister President, sir..."
"What?" Rex picked up a flier and sneered, "'Go green, go Grueger!' Much better than 'Go green, Vote Grueger.' It's alliteration, you louse."
"But should we really be..."
"Shut up Louie." Rex downed the last of his scotch in one giant gulp. "Step out of the car first, I want to look good."
Louie, a very short, very balding man in a suite two sizes too big for him, hurriedly jumped out of the limousine. He adjusted his glasses as his sausage fingers fumbled on the handle. The door suddenly flung open with a kick, knocking Louie to the floor.
Rex Grueger, in all his glory, stepped out and greeted the cheering public. He wore an olive suite, a crisp white shirt with french cuffs, a pink silk tie and a wide grin. At six and a half feet, he utterly towered over the reporters swarming around him.
"Mister President! Any comment on the Heisman board meetings? With all the buzz about steroids and meta-leagues, should you give back your trophy?"
He briefly lost his smile before recovering, "No comment! No comment!" Rex scanned the crowds, searching for his savior. 'Where is that blasted...if Louie screwed this one up too...' thought Rex. Then he saw him, a small child wearing a little green hat.
"Oh but I guess I have time for one autograph!" With a large flourish, he picked up the green hat and signed 'Godzilla Grueger, #13" across the brim of the cap. After getting a few opportune pictures with the beaming kid, the President of the United States turned toward the Meta Mall and began the first photo-op of his new campaign.
Police Captain Willy "Billy Nova" Miller doesn't pause. His uniform is impeccable, the navy blue black against the brilliant white glow of his skin. "You and Imperillax made the bust, and Perry can't be here right now, can he?"
Blue Shift looks around. His own combat uniform, crisp royal blue with armored black at the torso, helmet, and joints doesn't call out a lot of attention in the Meta Mall, but there are always people watching and listening. He gestures, and a cylinder of azure light snaps into place around him and Captain Miller. Miller grins at the impromptu "cone of silence" that gives them a little privacy.
"Imperillax got one hundred and seventeen people killed with his little stunt," Blue Shift says evenly.
"Which was better than expected for collateral damage on the norms when trying to bust Ice Gorgon." Miller shrugs. "Which you did. Public needs to hear that we're keeping them safe."
"Then perhaps we ought to actually be keeping them safe," Blue Shift says, and with a noticeable pause, adds, "Sir."
Miller sighs. "What do you want from me, O'Connell? You and Perry got Ice Gorgon, and you saved most of the people in that plane. You think I like losing norms? You have any idea what kind of ass-chewing I get on that?"
"I want the Defense Guidelines."
Miller's eyes flash, a momentary blinding beam of irritation. "We do that, and there's no way I can get enough of our people to sign on. Nobody wants to fight with their hands tied by laws about when and where they can cut loose."
Blue Shift raises a hand. "You do that, and maybe that ass-chewing gets better. And I go to that press conference and answer questions."
"You know," Miller says, "I actually gave you an order. You aren't really supposed to be negotiating with an order."
"Then fire me." Blue Shift drops the cylinder of light and walks away. They're standing in the Meta-History exhibit, near a large photo collage of the destruction of Pyongyang at the end of the Korean War. Blue Shift looks at it for a moment, then keeps walking.
"Shift!" Miller's voice comes after him. Blue Shift turns.
"Be there at two."
Captain Miller mutters something else under his breath and flies up to another level of the mall, and Blue Shift nods and heads over to find something to eat.
Block had been working the stage as best as he could. He popped wheelies on a bike made from his arm, reassembled his arm into a sword and fought off the evil Dino-Lord Raptillion. It was really just a normal girl in a LEGO suit.
When it was all said and done, Block took off as he always did. Up into the air. There the crowd watched the stunning display. Lights, smoke, mirrors. A loud crash, and Block exploded into a million pieces, raining LEGO blocks down over the crowds.
By the time the children finished fighting and scrabbling for bits and pieces of The Block's sundered limbs, he was safely far away. The explosion was always the perfect distraction to get away for a while. He reassembled his blocks, pink where he was once blue, he did his best to look normal, even going so far as to fashion a LEGO cap for his head. He failed miserably.
So there he was, sitting on a bench near the mall's food court, downing his second bottle of MetaBrand Super Glue (For the Super in You (C.) MetaBrand Co.), watching the crowds when a robot in a kissing booth started crying. Block thought he'd seen it all in his various tours through the super malls. This was something new.
Never one to resist getting trouble, Block dug through his backpack for whatever LEGO blocks he could find. He assembled what looked like four small piranhas -- only these had little legs and feet. Setting them down, he shooed them on to set about their work. From there, the four scurried quickly over to the kissing booth, setting to nipping and nibbling at the ankles of the robot's bullies. All while Block sat back and grinned.
"LEGO piranhas. I'm brilliant," he laughs to himself.
"Not my puka shell ankle bracelet!"
"My leg hair!!!!!"
"I think I'm bleeding!!"
"Run!"
Cries of pure terror and high pitched pubescent squeals rounded out the commotion going on around me.
I looked down to find an army of tiny footed pirahnas as they marched and nipped at the bullies and their ankles. Examining them closer I realized these weren't some kind of super land pirahnas, but instead were made of what appeared to be LEGO pieces. Further zooming in and enhancing proved this assumption to be correct, as I soon found LEGO stamped right into the side of the pieces.
I was not impressed by these magical LEGO creations. They should have just let me die, at least in death's embrace I could sleep at night, no longer plagued by the wretched humans that want only to hurt me and drag me down.
"This must be the work of that annoying LEGO guy who's always showing off for the crowd. He's so pathetic," I thought to myself. "Everything he does is for attention and praise, he just wants to feel good about himself, to feel like he's loved and cared about. Nobody cares about him, he's just a cheap show for them to point and laugh at before they return to the people the actually care about."
An alert showed up on my internal calendar, it was synced directly with the mall calendar so I knew just what places to avoid. People flocked to the area of events when they were going on. I hate people. Always so happy. Always so fake. And the fakes of them all was set to come through the front doors any second. President Grueger, how he ever got elected I don't know.
"If I ever meet him I'll punch him in the nose so hard that all his future photo ops will be taken out of a casket," I muttered under my breath. This wasn't the case, I could never punch a man with such puny arms. I was built for feeling emotions, the first of my kind, sadly this didn't lend well to face punching.
He recognized the voice, of course, but it still made him jump slightly.
"You're not paying enough attention, Eddie."
"The mall's not really my thing," Eddie replied without turning to face the man. He leaned on the railing overlooking the first floor. "Makes me twitchy."
"I know what you mean. Come on, let's hit the food court, do the deal, and be done with this. I'm anxious to be back to Chinatown."
Eddie turned to face the man and found himself staring. Slightly taller and darker toned than himself, the man had a shaved head and a black three quarters face mask featuring colorful dragons. The rest of him was covered by what Eddie could only think to himself as black silk pajamas, featuring the same four dragons as the mask.
"Did you buy those off the set of Enter the Dragon by any chance? You're shaming our people by being seen in that."
The man's expression turns sour beneath the mask. "Is that the opinion the Tigers hold of the Dragons then?"
"I'm not a Tiger, just a messenger. But I'm sure the message would be the same: Why on Earth are you wearing that ridiculous getup?"
The man's frown deepens. "It is important to be seen. I thought you knew this. Be careful, Eddie Nines. It is not wise to anger the Dragons. There will be consequences."
Eddie swallows his reply with a grimace and bows his head. "As you say, sir. I apologize. Our location has made me forget myself."
"Good enough, I suppose. Now let's walk and you can tell me why it is the Tigers have requested their meeting. They know the rules."
The two walked toward the food court, both nimbly dodging a group of running teenagers headed in the opposite direction.
"It's the Italian again, with a new batch of supers. There's talk of a preemptive strike to keep their hands outta Chinatown. But we all know how you feel about crossing the territory." Eddie stops talking as he eyes the scene in the food court. "That's why I'm here to deliver payment up front."
"The proposed 'meta-taxes' do not infringe on any status of an individual. A man isn't punished for owning a gun, he's only punished for firing that gun. It stands to reason then, that if a meta wants to use his god-given powers then he should carry collateral insurance. And of course, there are refunds to any individual who uses their powers without incident within a three year period...."
After the speech, Grueger carefully stepped down from the podium to meet with his advisors. "Clara, I left a pothole on the stage. See if you can get that cleaned up before the next show. Louie, I need a need podium. The steel in its cage is a year old and almost crushed entirely through the supports. And reinforce the panels with something that doesn't scratch after a sneeze!!"
Rex slumped into the couch of their portable ready-room. "What's next on the agenda?"
Louie took out a carefully prepared binder and pulled out a particularly dog-eared paged. "Meta-mega-burgers at the food-court followed by a 30 minute "common man/common meta" meet-and-great, then it's um...the town hall forum to wrap things up."
Rex ran his fingers across the top of his freshly shaved head. "And you have some of the plants in place this time? I don't want to get totally sandbagged up there like in Michigan. And try to do some screening for God's sake!"
Clara let out a small cough. "Sir, I'm afraid I must again protest that you are doing these meet-and-greets without proper..."
"We've been over this! I don't need the security! I am the security! The hell do I even pay you idiots for?"
Rex stood up from the couch and glared at his two hapless advisers. "If you two don't shape it up fast, there are plenty of replacements lining up to be a Presidential assistant."
"B...but sir I..."
"No buts! And if any one of you interrupt my hamburger for anything short than a crisis of national security, I will rip off your head and have it placed on a pike at my mantle as a warning to all interns."
With that, Rex turned and headed out of the ready-room and into the Meta-mall foodcourt.
The Dragon nodded emphatically, replying between bites. "Chinatown... is Chinatown. It is protected, and we... are the protectors. To operate across the border is to invite disaster. I will not allow it."
"You?! You will come here an-"
"You forget yourself again, Nines. The Dragon speaks, and he will be heard. In order to keep the rest of the city from interfering in our business, there will be no expansion of territory. The rules stay the same. The Tigers will not break them. Or they will suffer the consequences."
"The consequences? Have you lost your mind?!" Eddie snarled. "This is Steffano we're talking about! The whole point is to keep him out before he-"
The move is swift. One moment, the Dragon was sitting, the next he was standing next to Eddie, the edge of his hand hitting Eddie's throat with a small thwack. "You will be silent," he said in a low voice as Eddie is reduced to a coughing fit. "You will peddle your ass back to Chinatown and you will tell the little gangs that the Dragons do not see fit to accomodate their whims. Then they will fall in line, or they will fall."
Or at least, it looks like a meteor. With a massive explosion the ceiling above the main plaza detonates and a hulking projectile plows into the floor below, scattering debris and patrons in equal measure.
Some of the stronger individuals are getting to their feet, but most of those nearby are lying on the ground, motionless.
There is now a crater in the middle of the main plaza.
What do you do?
He'd been enjoying his afternoon.
He'd downed the last of his super glue. He took apart the tiny LEGO piranhas and put the pieces back into his pack. He started to think it would be an alright day. The show was over. He could still sneak out and see a movie; one of the new super flicks that was out.
Then the meteor came down.
And Block is here.
And there.
The bench he sat in is nothing now but splintered wood and twisted metal, and the floor is littered with millions of colorful LEGO blocks.
I regained control of my limbs as the backup power within me began to kick in, the original batteries being smashed as they were too close to the surface of my outer shell. A design flaw if they had ever believed I would do more than pucker my lips.
Slowly I climbed up out of the wreckage and began to dust myself off. As I wiped the debris from my face I noticed my right arm was coated in red. A poor bystander must have been in the way, I though to myself. Moving my arm further from my body, I was able to focus my sight better on the red splotches enough to realize that I was thankfully wrong. This wasn't blood I was covered in, it was just melted Lego pieces that must have came from that creep nearby shortly before the blast. It didn't matter to me if he lived or died.
Looking around at the wreckage I knew I had better start helping those trapped beneath the rubble.
"That's for taxing the bots, jerk"
You hit solidly, but the damage is minimal. Emobot is now severely upset.
Only later do you realize that he ran right past you. He never actually punched you, per se. He simply accelerated past and let his tail make a connection.
From your vantage point on the ground, you can make out a few interesting features about Rex in his new form. Excepting a few scraps fluttering in the wind, his shirt has vanished, but he still is wearing that goofy pink tie. And his blazer...it has only ripped to make way for dorsal fins.
"You're going to want to stay down." The voice isn't human. It's a Grueger Monster. And somehow, those alligator teeth look even more menacing in person.
A man in a business suit gapes as he pulls a pair of lips out of his jacket pocket.
"Hey, stop sticking your fingers all over me. Bring me over to my head. No, it's the other way, you idiot." The mouth yells at him.
The LEGO pieces begin to rattle on the floor as they come back together. An upper body here, a leg there. The LEGO clatter around as they start to shake on the floor. Suddenly shooting up into the air, the sound of LEGO snapping together fills the mall as the Brick Boy snaps back into piece in the air, right above the Emo Robot where he suddenly flails and falls like a ton of bricks onto the robot's head.
"Ah! Hey, watch it down there!"
If anyone looks in the crater they see it's quite deep and was not made by a meteor. Even to the untrained eye the object resting in the bottom of the cavernous hole is clearly artificial. A series of lights on the top of the device appear to be counting down, and if the rate remains constant you have about 45 seconds before the last light winks out.
(the 45 seconds assumes a bit of delay before someone reaches the crater, but basically there's not much time before SOMETHING happens)
Edit: One more thing, anyone who hasn't yet posted a reaction to the initial meteor impact is welcome and even encouraged to make a "catch up" post while I'm gone.
"Get up."
Another familiar voice, this one hidden by a full mask and cowl in a dark shade of purple. "You're the teleporter, right?" the Cape asks as he hauls Eddie to his feet. "We need to get these people to safety."
"What, just the two of us?" asks Eddie.
"Funny guy," replies the Cape, and suddenly there are four of them, all identical. "Grab a body, and 'port 'em out. Start near the crater."
Eddie did as he was told, and got to work.
One dozen mechanical silhouettes crawl from the smoke on six stocky legs. Each has a solid grey shell with luminescent lines of purple running from top to bottom, but they carry no identifying insignias. They're easily ten feet tall and mount what are clearly guns upon a rotating torso in their center.
Shining vermilion optics survey the area and an ominous chorus of hums rises as their weapons begin to glow.
What do you do?
"I see it!"
"Wowthatsalotta-"
"Knock 'em down!
"We callin' a play?"
The four masked men arrive at Eddie's position instantaneously, all of them talking over each other, until Eddie cuts in. "Move anybody who hasn't gotten to safety. I'll draw fire until you're ready." The Capes nod and 'port, leaving Eddie alone.
"This is really, really dumb," Eddie says before 'porting above the closest whatever-it-was. "No guns in the mall!" he shouts as he brings his foot down on the thing's optics. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave!"
OOC: Go ahead and write a flavor response if you want, but the next round won't begin until the rest of the group gets a shot in. And, of course, the bad guys get a chance to respond.
Combat Reference Cheat Sheet:
Eleven undamaged robots
One damaged robot
Round 1:
Ringo/Eddie - Gave the damaged robot its title
Blowing yourself to pieces and putting yourself back together is never as fun as it sounds. He sits there on something notably hard and uncomfortable as he watches the scene unfold. Out from the disaster comes these mechanical things. Block pops his jaw back into place from its slack position, and finally looks down.
He pulls the Emo-Robot's head back by the hair and looks at him, laughing.
"Oh, sorry about that, cry baby! You shouldn't get in my way, I have heroing to do!"
He grins, standing up.
This was his chance, to be heroic for the first time after all that pretend! His legs turn into blaster cannons and he jumps into the air, flying five feet up to get a better vantage point.
Block pops off all ten of his right hand fingers, then tosses them into the air.
"Look out below!" He shouts as they fall, each multicolored finger turned into a small explosive.
The tears welled up inside me. My beautiful body, look what they were doing to it!
"You guys are so mean, just because I look different than you and am able to feel pain, doesn't mean you have to pick on me!" I yelled at the backs of their heads. "I'll show you both!"
As I finished my tirade it appeared the whining had caught the attention of the dudes that just dropped into the mall. Sadly my beef with the other too jerks would have to wait, the guns wear revving up and aiming right for me. I jumped in the center of them and prepared for the worst.
"Hopefully my acid tears will build up before they break through my armor," I thought to myself as I applied some black lipstick to agitate them even more. Nobody can stand this lipstick.
Your explosive digits scatter over the assembled robots, detonating impressively. Only five hit... but they sure hit well. Three of the robots hit the dirt.
Beast:
Every single remaining robot turns towards you. Just in time for...
Munkus:
Your attempt was a resounding success. Whether you want to just swing the emo-bot or send it flying across the room, one of the robots is going down.
Beast (again):
You are unharmed by the weaponization. Your acid tears are now fully charged.
OOC: Flavor response it up if you want, I'll get the bad guy's turn posted this evening.
Combat Reference Cheat Sheet:
Seven undamaged robots
One damaged robot
Four destroyed robots
Round 1:
Ringo/Eddie - Gave the damaged robot its title
VanityPants/The Block - Destroyed 3 robots
Beast/Emo-Bot - Took aggro from everyone
Munkus/Rex - Destroyed 1 robot, tossed 1 fellow hero
"Hah, looks like you guys got all Blocked Up!"
He grins. The digits explode in a multi-colored display, like something more akin to cartoon than this real, waking life.
"Now just sit back while I take you apart!"
The tears spraying from my eyes are my only solace.
Rex doesn't wait for a response. He grabs the Emo-bot by her legs and throws her through one of the attacking robots, cleaving it in half.
"NOT IN MY AMERICA!"
Four hits, no damage. Acid Tears will remain at full charge for the next couple of rounds.
Edit: Woops, forgot to mention that it is now your turn again. Eight robots remain standing, one of which is damaged.
"Can't you see I have to save your butts?! Hm ... butts!"
A LEGO light-bulb goes off above Block's head. He immediately sets to work, first reattaching new fingers and then building some gross monstrosity mid-air.
When he's finished, he's put together a fully-rendered butt, 50-times scaled.
With a push, he sends the LEGO butt down into the fight! It opens its giant block cheeks and attempts to crush one of the robots between them.
"You know, Mr. President, it kind of looks like your face!"
Edit: