video/teneka

[dontdodomestic]

[It’s dark, but that’s not new, is it? The PORTAL feed turns on to show an odd angle of the Doctor and a flash of red hair. He’s breathing heavy and doesn’t seem to realize that the device is on.]

Be. Very. Quiet. [He ‘says’ to the person with him. He reaches over to guide her so that she’s more flushed against the wall. As he moves her, the face

Comments

[text]

[notglitching]

Remove limbs. Sever. Destroy.

[There's a pause.]

Location?

[text]

[gotmyshipmyboys]

Right! Any ideas when you don't have anything sharp nearby?

Oh god, I'm NEW. I don't know.

[text]

[notglitching]

[He's new enough, himself. But tracking's somewhat of a specialty]

Send coordinates. Can navigate. [He's already working to pull the data from the connection, though if she can provide it directly, that would be quicker.]

Alternate probable solutions: incineration (untested). Deception. Simple processing, no tactical comprehension.

[text]

[gotmyshipmyboys]

If I knew how to DO that, I would have already DONE it.

Sure? Cause it moves like it can hear me. Or smell me.

[text] -> [action]?

[notglitching]

[Users. Rinzler doesn't bother answering the first; he's managed a general sector already, and can find the rest in motion. The program runs up the nearest building, twists sideways around a balcony to avoid dark growths as they twine to grab him. He's on the roof in under a micro, off the roof in less, lightjet rezzing to support him as the location trace runs in the background.]

Probably can. Detection not high-level function.

In transit. Location: inside/outside, proximity to threat, numbers? [It shouldn't take him long to make it-easier if he knows specifics of the layout and threat.]

[text] -> [action]

[gotmyshipmyboys]

[Who was this person, this guy? He sounded like a computer or an accountant. She eyed the PORTAL before typing in a reply.]

Inside. Probably 15-20 metres? And too dark to really tell. Hard to get a headcount when they don't have heads.

[action]

[notglitching]

[Computer, yes. Accountant, no. That was not Rinzler's function.

Of course, neither is this. As the lightjet takes him above the threats and distractions below, the program's internal conflicts seem sharper, edged. This is wrong/right, he was made to destroy/protect. Users are the enemy.

It doesn't make a difference. It can't, he won't let it. The trace completes en-route, and Rinzler adjusts course, drops down to close outside the structure. Visuals focus-there. A cluster of the multilimbed creatures. Not stationary, but clustered still, near the building's entrance.

The program hesitates. 15 meters should be enough. And if there are others near, it should draw their attention.

His grip shifts to the lightjet's trigger, and blasts of bright orange fire shoot out to strike the targets below. Rinzler fires off three bursts with perfect accuracy before diving, lightjet derezzing around him as he hits the ground in a roll.]

[action]

[gotmyshipmyboys]

[Amy's distracted -- the Doctor, the PORTAL, the things out in front of them. Together, her and the Doctor (not her Doctor, but the Doctor all the same) are inching back, running out of room. Who designed this building, cause she'd like to smack the living--

There's three flashes, three bursts, and the creatures are pissed. She gives a startled cry soundlessly.]

[action]

[notglitching]

[Rinzler's already drawing his disks as he contacts the ground. He comes up from the roll in a crouch, weapons splitting bright orange and white. The program's own circuitry is less stable-mostly orange, but with flickering patches and spikes of bright blue-white seeping through, fading away.

Those he hit are so much slagged and smoking meat (confirmation: incineration viable), but there were more-several crawling from the half-wrecked entrance, if nothing else. The program lunges forward, disks scything through the space to sever two reaching limbs, strike and shatter a metal band holding others in place. The first creature collapses as red blood spreads across the street, and Rinzler freezes with skipping error (user, user-no) before jerking around (move/fight/destroy) to face the next target.]

[action]

[gotmyshipmyboys]

Doctor. Doctor!

[Amy is elbowing the Doctor, trying to make sure what she's seeing isn't some hallucination. The man--the man-shaped thing, HIM is moving faster than any human could or should.]

How...

[There's a smell of burning flesh, of frying skin. It makes her cringe, but she can't look away.]

[action]

[dontdodomestic]

[The Doctor doesn't take kindly to being elbowed.]

Oi, watch i-

[He stops because he's seeing what she's seeing.]

Friend of yours?

[Yes, he missed your text conversation entirely. Go figure.]

[action]

[notglitching]

[There weren't that many past the doorway. Rinzler jumps above a pair of fused arms, turns as he falls to land weapons-first, cut through the juncture. Another's creeping low, curved hand grasping the severed limb and trying to drag it back for new attachment, The program stabs down, orange disks digging and twisting deep as the thing flails, pinned to the ground.

Rinzler flinches, motion stuttering and circuitry flickering glitchy blue-white as the blood flows out, prickling on the lines across his hands. Then he jerks the weapons apart inside the creature, swift and total dismemberment.

The black helmet raises, turning to scan for threats. After a moment, it tips uncertainly toward the users. Are there more?]

[action]

[gotmyshipmyboys]

Not of mine. Not here that long.

[It's gory, but fascinating.]

Doesn't seem to talk though.

[At Rinzler's unspoken question, she shakes her head and shrugs.]