Recluse had used his uneventful dinner as time to hammer out and sharpen a new blade for Scourge, and do maintenance on the rest of his own weapons, then changing into his black Arachnos officer's uniform, ready for the night. Then, it had simply been a matter of waiting, impatiently as always, for the doors to unlock
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And yet...they did.
The sudden surge of pain that shot up from his foot and side sent Sechs stumbling backwards. A gruff gasp rumbled out from his chest as he lost his hold against the stranger. The hell?! Stepping back slightly with his hand clutched upon his side, Sechs' eyes caught a glimpse of the other man's face. From what Sechs could tell, the stranger he was facing wasn't a cyborg in anyway. The softer flesh he briefly felt under his hand when he slammed him against the wall indicated that the man was probably human.
But...how was that possible?
Sechs' eyes briefly flickered down to find that he wasn't in his armor. Ah right... He had his outfit removed for his tune-up...but, wasn't his casual clothing ( ... )
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Still cradling his beaten arm, Sechs fixated his amber eyes on the other man, watching for any movements that may lead to another attack. "Now's a good time for that bastard to finish me off," Sechs bitterly thought to himself. If that were the case, Sechs would not go down without a fight. Wrecked arm or not ( ... )
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"Y'know, Ketheres!? It's all the way up in orbit. Geeze." Sechs badgered the other man. Why did this guy have to give such lousy answers? Was he stupid or something? Hmm, maybe this guy really didn't know about Ketheres... If he were Tipharean he would have known about the orbital city. But he didn't have the typical Tipharean mark on his forehead. Maybe he was from the Scrapyard then? Everyone there would know of Tiphares, heck, that city practically floated above their heads ( ... )
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Keeping his head pointed to the side, the Replica's lip curled into a conceited curl. "Soldiers eh? If they wanted one they could have just asked me." Careful not to agitate his throbbing wrist, Sechs crossed his arms in an insolent manner before carrying on, "Problem with that is... One: I don't work for anyone. And two: I'm too busy winning the Z.O.T.T."
Or at least, he was busy winning the Z.O.T.T. before getting dragged here ( ... )
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No... This was absolute...total...hogwash.
Why couldn't that bastard have just told Sechs that he was still in Ketheres? And that it was actually Trinidad and all those other planetary higher-ups who ordered Sechs and his team mates to be taken away from the tournament? He just had his brain chip transferred over to a weaker cyborg body to prevent him from causing damage. He and his team were just too good for the Z.O.T. tournament that's all! Trinidad just didn't want them to win! As much trouble as that had caused for Sechs, at least it meant he was that good at fighting. All that made more sense!
Or what about his theory that it was Desty Nova who turned on him and the others? At least that was something Sechs was familiar with. Alita wouldn't have tolerated it either; she'd be sure to get everyone out of the situation and back into the Z.O.T.T.
But this crap ( ... )
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Well, Sechs didn't have all night to argue over who was going to introduce themselves first. As soon as he gets his body back, Sechs was going to need a name for this guy so he could hunt him down and teach him a lesson for all the trouble he caused...
"Fine! My name is Sechs! You will call me Sechs!" The Replica answered with much emphasis on his name. With a sneer he then raised his uninjured arm to point at the other man. "And what should I be calling you, asshole?"
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Even if he was just asking for the heck of it, Jason wasn't inclined to give out his real name. Not when they were others here who knew him and might try something. He didn't think his replacement was stupid enough to come looking for him after their last encounter but you never knew. And if Alfs knew where his room was he might decide to pay him a visit too and that.... wasn't something Jason was ready to deal with.
"Any other questions or has your little brain had enough for today?" he asked cheerfully. He did want to get something done tonight but he didn't want to turn his back on the meta. "Door's open if you want to leave." Maybe Sechs would take the hint. Wasn't like he had any reason to want to hang around here.
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Sechs uttered out a deep growl at the "little brain" comment. Instinctively his hands clenched into angry fists; however his reaction didn't help with his sprained wrist. He flinched from the pain and quickly relaxed his hurt arm. "Don't bother!" he hissed. "Not even a lobotomized Deckman would wanna hear your crap! I don't have time to listen to your lies and bullshit! You're nothing but hogwash! I'm outta here!"
With that the Replica heaved himself off the bed and stomped over to the door. Using his unimpaired hand, Sechs angrily flung it open. Before storming out into the darkened hallway, he shot a toothy snarl at Will.
"When I get my Fizziroy body back, you better run for it cuz I'm gonna hunt you down and beat yer brains into SLUG SLIME!"
Without another word, the enraged Replica exited the room, slamming the door behind him with a mighty crash.
[Stomping off to here.]
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