[Acro] GLoG XLV: The winds of change be darned!

[Je dit Viola]

Oh, okay. I thought those were I's instead of 1s.

Yes, and I won. I won so hard that the other person's grand-momma's dog was screaming in pain. she says with venom on her voice to the droid. And you should be glad I can't chase you for now, or else I'd tear you apart, she says, for that tone you just had.

[Reinholdt]

False fear: Oooh. I'm shaking in my bolts.
Assistance for the Ignorant: I can see your security system meatbag. I know the only person you beat up was yourself.
Addition: Pathetic.

[Je dit Viola]

No, that's not what you're feeling. She sits up to look at the droid better. Do you know what you're feeling? No you don't. So that's why I'm going to tell you.

First, of all, you're feeling abject terror - because, in your metallic little circuitry, you know that I am going to tear you apart.

Second, you're stupified by the mystery of how I'm going to do it. And I'm going to tell you how. The next time I see you. But, don't worry, I'll give you a hint. You're going to wish that you could feel pain, just so that you could die of it.

Then, you're going wish you had boots so you could shake in them. You'll shake in them so hard, you'd think you were a massaging machine. she says. Unbeknownst to her, intimidation doesn't work very well against robots. And then...it will be our little surprise.

[Reinholdt]

Mean Drone 11 looks much like any other service drone.
Bemused mocking: Hahaha!
Degradation: You're a stupid little meatbag aren't you?
Correction: I said bolts not boots. Not everyone is so inferior as to need footwear.

[Je dit Viola]

But he doesn't act like every other servicedrone, does he? (...)

Obviously you didn't listen to what I said. she says, waving it away. Then she lies back down on the couch. Oh well. At least now I can say "I told you so".

[Reinholdt]

Not even close.
It shoots out a little laser at her undamaged wing. It's a fruit cutting laser! So it can hurt.

Intimidation: Really want to try me punk?

[Je dit Viola]

Okay.

Her muscles spasms a bit at the shot.

She yawns, still lying down, and says Yeah, yeah. Keep on dreaming. She closes her eyes and puts her hands behind her head, like she's sleeping.

[Reinholdt]

Mean Drone 11 dreams of a brighter mechanical future!
And floats closer to the succubus, up to her face... and tries to laser her left eye. That could very well hurt and/or ruin it if it works!

[Je dit Viola]

She winces again, because it hurts a lot like a brick, but doesn't make a sound...after 300 years of straight torture (yes, I'm not lying) you learn not to scream.
Oh, no, though! You attacked her eye!

Anyway, her tail whips out from behind her, holding a dagger, at where the Droid is...while, at the same time, her wings fold up to 'capture' it to keep it from drifting away... it the Mean Droid is less than 1 yard (~1 m?) from her face, then it'll most likely get stabbed by a dagger...(Unless the droid has reflexes of a raptor or something)

Oh, and she's smiling, eyes still closed.

[Lord Magtok]

There's someone else who can see GLoG's security system. His name is Magtok, and he's just spent the last few minutes nimbly skittering unseen past the security cameras, leaving his drone guards lost and confused back by the pool, and sneaking up behind #11. It's been a long, difficult, and annoying trip, but hopefully worth the hike as he tries to tap the bot on the closest thing it has to a shoulder.

Evening, inferior.

[Reinholdt]

Magtok is too late! Helen captures the bot and destroys its useful systems with a dagger strike. It is decimated and useless. And as such, powers down.

[Lord Magtok]

Aww...Magtok sighs, and his shoulders slump down. All of that, for nothing.

Well that's a complete disappointment and a huge waste of about twelve minutes of my life. Hey, can I have the bot now? Someone needs to have a decent look at the thing before it's trashed.

[Je dit Viola]

Says Helen, with her eyes closed still, to Magtok, We're going to need a new Droid.
Ow, who knew lasers could hurt so bad?

Yes, you can take it. I don't want it.

[Reinholdt]

Mean Drone 12 floats out and watches from up in a corner. Of course, it looks just like a service drone so as long as it keeps its circuits shut.

[Lord Magtok]

Oh, goody.

With a smile, Mag will reach for the thing, find a seat on an opposite couch, plop it onto his lap, and commence to scan, analyze, disassemble, reassemble, examine, disassemble and then reassemble as a sentient talking toaster, disassemble again, and then figure out anything else he can about Mean Drone XI. Twelve might be a little disturbed by the whole scene.

[Je dit Viola]

Helen opens her right eye (she's afraid of what happened to her left eye!) to look at Magtok. Whatcha doing? she asks...seeing him make the toaster.

[Reinholdt]

Not really. What's the point of being a robot if you can't be devoid of things like disgust?

Mean Drone 11 was not made in GLoG's drone factory. The design is of course, very similar, but slightly different. Perhaps this is what allows it to access the systems without following the systems rules. In some ways it's a bit more advanced. It is clearly designed with a mean personality.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok takes a moment to tear an important piece of the circuit apart after committing the thing to memory, just in case anyone tries to rebuild 11.

Hrmm...trying to figure out how this "Mean Drone" thing works. It's been a rather minor security issue, someone's been filling the place with hostile bots that exist one at a time, pestering folks. Probably spies, saboteurs, or something else bad. They're not as harmless as they look or just some irksome glitch, as this circuit difference here shows. I'll hafta show this to the Mainframe later, maybe it can devise a way to have them removed.

[Je dit Viola]

Hmm...that makes sense. Helen says.

By the way, do you know where any eyepatches are? Preferrably Pirate-y ones...I don't know how bad my eye is, but it probably doesn't look pretty.

[Lord Magtok]

Here.

Mag reaches into his robes, digs a bit, getting his whole arm in there, and then tosses a red eyepatch with a skull-and-crossbones design on it towards Helen. It's probably some sort of substitute for his red eye, maybe for a TLAP Day costume. A shame that it only comes once a year, though.

[Je dit Viola]

Yes, that's a shame. Helen catches the eyepatch. Thanks. It looks so pretty.
She puts it on over her left eye. How do I look?

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok shrugs, and continues to tinker with the remains of Drone 11.

Like someone who suffered an unsightly eye injury and is trying to make the best of it by wearing a piratey eyepatch until they find someone with some healing magic.

The cyborg really isn't one for flattery, is he?

[Reinholdt]

Mean Drone 12 flies out. It needs to go do something important.

[Lord Magtok]

A GLoG drone, leaving GLoG turf? Suspicious. A MagClone is sent to stealthily follow from above.

[Je dit Viola]

(sorry, I had to leave)

Oh, it's that bad? said Helen.

...they're gone now. Maybe.

[Reinholdt]

(Outside GLoG)

Mean Drone 12 flies a fair bit away and into a forest. It comes to a certain spot, stops, and looks around to make sure no one followed it.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok's still got his head buried in that drone-work he's doing, answering Helen only to be polite, rather than any genuine interest or concern.

It's the pure, unvarnished truth. Nobody goes running around with an eyepatch without the rest of the pirate get-up unless they're just trying to stylishly cope with a temporary injury. Find a corset, a hat, some boots, and whatever else pirates wear, and folks might be tempted to think otherwise.

Elsewhere

The Magtok there will try to wrap himself in several layers of cloaking devices, shifting himself to colors far beyond what the drone should be capable of detecting.

[Je dit Viola]

Oh. she says, a bit put out.

I hate truth.

[Reinholdt]

Elsewhere

Seeing no one, Mean Drone 12 will fly under a small rock cropping and disappear from view. Doesn't look like there'd be anything there...

[Lord Magtok]

The League

Magtok bites his lip.

Dear, I'm a bald cyborg in purple robes, with a menacing red cyborg eye and scar over the biological one. Even with only one good eye, you should be able to tell I'm not the sort of fellow who goes out offering sympathy, caring, and concern towards those around him. At best, I've got uneasy wariness around your kind. At worst, I'm looking into ways to take disproportionate revenge upon your associates.

The Elsewhere

Lead umbrella in hand, Magtok continues his sneaky journey in pursuit of the drone, suspecting either a trap or Calublufiok. Maybe both, but certainly not neither.