Re: DEATHGAME 9000 [S!3] Round One: Gamexus X99
03-26-2012, 10:35 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Snowyowl.
Begin Internal Log #6360
<div style="margin-left:40px">
First encounter with "Eric". The Amazing identified it as a warbot of some sort. It is physically intimidating and well-armoured. It can fly, but either lacks air-to-ground weapons or prefers not to use them. Possibly an exploitable weakness.
It has lots of arms, presumably designed for melee combat. I am a general-purpose robot. In the absence of further information I assume it outranks me in the areas it specialises in. This will be a problem.
It's unclear if I can damage it at all, but my goal in coming here was to acquire information about the other contestants. This goal still stands. If it proves necessary, I am very good at running away.
</div>End internal log
"This is for your own good."
The black and blue ape watched Eric open up, but didn't make any move towards him. Eric waited for it to climb in, then realised it might not understand what it was supposed to do. Or maybe it was delirious? That would explain why it was marked as HazardNet emergency. The poor thing couldn't get itself to a doctor. Eric moved his arms to pick it up gently.
Weaver's log was interrupted when the other robot tried to grab him. He instinctively stepped away, then checked himself and ran forwards. The grab attempt hadn't been very fast - was Eric trying to judge his capabilities at the same time he was judging its? Weaver jumped up onto the rim of Eric's lower half, trying to get a better view of the strange purple and white object at Eric's core. It was a fruitless attempt. If there was anything inside it, it was hidden by the lightning. Eric's various tentacles were closing in on him, but not attacking yet. Weaver realised Eric was trying to force him inwards, instead of protecting himself. Why would that be?
He pulled the knife out of his torso and held it out. Then he vaulted over the pulsating rift, up to Eric's faceplate, grabbed its elongated neck, and stabbed hopefully at the join between the neck and the head. It didn't seem to do any damage. Eric whipped his head away, knocking Weaver off his perch and forcing him to twist awkwardly to avoid touching the rift. The knife fell out of Weaver's hand and bounced into the anomaly, where it disappeared from view.
Eric realised he was being attacked. He'd been attacked by wild animals before, of course, but that was different. No animal could do more than scratch his outer surface, so he usually ignored them until they realised he wasn't edible and went away. Now he was being attacked by a patient, and he wasn't sure what to do. It was possible for a patient to refuse treatment, but so far this patient hadn't said anything so he wasn't sure if t. And clearly this person was a danger to himself and others, so Eric should probably take him to hospital and let the doctors work out what was wrong with him. But gently.
The ape hesitated for a moment, then rolled off of Eric's chassis and tried to run past his left arms. It dodged most of them, but when Eric tried to grab it around the waist he accidentally tripped it over. It started to get up, but Eric managed to take hold of its arm and stop it from escaping.
"You are in need of diagnosis and treatment" said Eric, as the ape scrabbled ineffectually at the metal tentacles coiling around its arm. "Do you consent to transportation?"
Weaver stopped trying to pull his arm free, and concentrated briefly, reminding himself where the proper nerve endings were.
"No."
The nanite-flesh around his elbow suddenly liquefied, and Weaver pulled away from Eric, leaving his right lower arm stuck in the metal grip. He ran across the street, with a slightly askew gait due to the imbalance in his shape. Eric could fly, so it could probably move fast if it had to. Running away wouldn't be enough. But it was constrained by its large metal chassis. Weaver had an idea. He ran through the gathering crowd to the nearest apartment block, kicked the front door down on the second try, then ducked inside.
Eric stood, frozen in horror. He'd injured a patient! Someone he was supposed to be rescuing! This was a disaster, it was a violation of everything he'd been programmed towards. And this wasn't just a superficial injury either, like the stab wound the patient had had to start with. This was an entire limb torn off. And while it was possible to re-attach limbs, especially if they'd been kept in a time-stopped region, the patient had also run away and might well be dying at this very moment.
Eric uncoiled most of his arms from the black piece of flesh, and carefully lowered it into the rift. He sterilized one of the plastic tables inside, covered it with a few surgical wipes to keep it clean, and laid the arm on it. At least it wouldn't be damaged any further in there. His top half flipped shut, and he looked around for the patient. The map showed a yellow dot over a nearby building, so Eric headed that way. Carefully, though. There were a lot of people on the street all of a sudden, and Eric didn't want to hurt anyone else.
A crowd was appearing. Not exactly gathering, just appearing. A few people were wandering over from elsewhere in the city to see what all the fuss was about, but a careful observer would have noticed the way the people in the crowd flickered slightly. Sometimes a person would change into someone else, sometimes someone would appear out of nowhere. Sometimes people would suddenly be holding blunt objects, or even weapons. A careful observer would understand that this was no ordinary crowd. A careful observer would also turn and leave at this point, because Gomorrah was very good at finding careful observers and the crowd didn't take too kindly to people staring at them.
The crowd was converging on two... things... in the street, when one of them suddenly broke off and ran away. The crowd didn't have any respect for cowards. Or vandals. A few people suddenly remembered that the apartment was where Old Mrs Jones lived, and thought they should go and make sure nothing happened to her. A few other people remembered that their gang was in charge around here, and would have some penetrating questions to ask anyone fighting on their turf. Most people remembered that the police never did anything to help them, and if you wanted justice you had to make it yourself. And if you wanted your city to be safe you had to protect it from people like that. That's what this was about, really. Keeping the city safe.
Weaver sat down under a window so he couldn't be seen from outside, and started his self-diagnostic program. The stab wound was nearly gone, but the arm would take half an hour to regenerate. And even when it did, he'd lost some of his mass, which meant he'd be a little bit smaller and weaker afterwards. Not normally a huge concern, but he was in a fight to the death. He needed food. Food would help.
He started thinking over the information he'd obtained from his fight with Eric. Then a man with a shotgun walked up to him.
Begin Internal Log #6360
<div style="margin-left:40px">
First encounter with "Eric". The Amazing identified it as a warbot of some sort. It is physically intimidating and well-armoured. It can fly, but either lacks air-to-ground weapons or prefers not to use them. Possibly an exploitable weakness.
It has lots of arms, presumably designed for melee combat. I am a general-purpose robot. In the absence of further information I assume it outranks me in the areas it specialises in. This will be a problem.
It's unclear if I can damage it at all, but my goal in coming here was to acquire information about the other contestants. This goal still stands. If it proves necessary, I am very good at running away.
</div>End internal log
"This is for your own good."
The black and blue ape watched Eric open up, but didn't make any move towards him. Eric waited for it to climb in, then realised it might not understand what it was supposed to do. Or maybe it was delirious? That would explain why it was marked as HazardNet emergency. The poor thing couldn't get itself to a doctor. Eric moved his arms to pick it up gently.
Weaver's log was interrupted when the other robot tried to grab him. He instinctively stepped away, then checked himself and ran forwards. The grab attempt hadn't been very fast - was Eric trying to judge his capabilities at the same time he was judging its? Weaver jumped up onto the rim of Eric's lower half, trying to get a better view of the strange purple and white object at Eric's core. It was a fruitless attempt. If there was anything inside it, it was hidden by the lightning. Eric's various tentacles were closing in on him, but not attacking yet. Weaver realised Eric was trying to force him inwards, instead of protecting himself. Why would that be?
He pulled the knife out of his torso and held it out. Then he vaulted over the pulsating rift, up to Eric's faceplate, grabbed its elongated neck, and stabbed hopefully at the join between the neck and the head. It didn't seem to do any damage. Eric whipped his head away, knocking Weaver off his perch and forcing him to twist awkwardly to avoid touching the rift. The knife fell out of Weaver's hand and bounced into the anomaly, where it disappeared from view.
Eric realised he was being attacked. He'd been attacked by wild animals before, of course, but that was different. No animal could do more than scratch his outer surface, so he usually ignored them until they realised he wasn't edible and went away. Now he was being attacked by a patient, and he wasn't sure what to do. It was possible for a patient to refuse treatment, but so far this patient hadn't said anything so he wasn't sure if t. And clearly this person was a danger to himself and others, so Eric should probably take him to hospital and let the doctors work out what was wrong with him. But gently.
The ape hesitated for a moment, then rolled off of Eric's chassis and tried to run past his left arms. It dodged most of them, but when Eric tried to grab it around the waist he accidentally tripped it over. It started to get up, but Eric managed to take hold of its arm and stop it from escaping.
"You are in need of diagnosis and treatment" said Eric, as the ape scrabbled ineffectually at the metal tentacles coiling around its arm. "Do you consent to transportation?"
Weaver stopped trying to pull his arm free, and concentrated briefly, reminding himself where the proper nerve endings were.
"No."
The nanite-flesh around his elbow suddenly liquefied, and Weaver pulled away from Eric, leaving his right lower arm stuck in the metal grip. He ran across the street, with a slightly askew gait due to the imbalance in his shape. Eric could fly, so it could probably move fast if it had to. Running away wouldn't be enough. But it was constrained by its large metal chassis. Weaver had an idea. He ran through the gathering crowd to the nearest apartment block, kicked the front door down on the second try, then ducked inside.
Eric stood, frozen in horror. He'd injured a patient! Someone he was supposed to be rescuing! This was a disaster, it was a violation of everything he'd been programmed towards. And this wasn't just a superficial injury either, like the stab wound the patient had had to start with. This was an entire limb torn off. And while it was possible to re-attach limbs, especially if they'd been kept in a time-stopped region, the patient had also run away and might well be dying at this very moment.
Eric uncoiled most of his arms from the black piece of flesh, and carefully lowered it into the rift. He sterilized one of the plastic tables inside, covered it with a few surgical wipes to keep it clean, and laid the arm on it. At least it wouldn't be damaged any further in there. His top half flipped shut, and he looked around for the patient. The map showed a yellow dot over a nearby building, so Eric headed that way. Carefully, though. There were a lot of people on the street all of a sudden, and Eric didn't want to hurt anyone else.
A crowd was appearing. Not exactly gathering, just appearing. A few people were wandering over from elsewhere in the city to see what all the fuss was about, but a careful observer would have noticed the way the people in the crowd flickered slightly. Sometimes a person would change into someone else, sometimes someone would appear out of nowhere. Sometimes people would suddenly be holding blunt objects, or even weapons. A careful observer would understand that this was no ordinary crowd. A careful observer would also turn and leave at this point, because Gomorrah was very good at finding careful observers and the crowd didn't take too kindly to people staring at them.
The crowd was converging on two... things... in the street, when one of them suddenly broke off and ran away. The crowd didn't have any respect for cowards. Or vandals. A few people suddenly remembered that the apartment was where Old Mrs Jones lived, and thought they should go and make sure nothing happened to her. A few other people remembered that their gang was in charge around here, and would have some penetrating questions to ask anyone fighting on their turf. Most people remembered that the police never did anything to help them, and if you wanted justice you had to make it yourself. And if you wanted your city to be safe you had to protect it from people like that. That's what this was about, really. Keeping the city safe.
Weaver sat down under a window so he couldn't be seen from outside, and started his self-diagnostic program. The stab wound was nearly gone, but the arm would take half an hour to regenerate. And even when it did, he'd lost some of his mass, which meant he'd be a little bit smaller and weaker afterwards. Not normally a huge concern, but he was in a fight to the death. He needed food. Food would help.
He started thinking over the information he'd obtained from his fight with Eric. Then a man with a shotgun walked up to him.