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Post by SceneMod on Jul 5, 2010 11:43:43 GMT -5
Day 13, run-down housing, open
The apartment complexes here were one beautifully painted, in pansy purple, two-tone teal, rose pink, canary yellow, dark green, and powder blue. They ape castles, with pointed, conical roofs and rising spires. Porches that could have been magnificent spread from the ground floors, latticed underneath.
Now, the paint is dingy and peeling, and wrought iron fences, sharpened to hard points, are everywhere. The porches are collapsing. Some of the window are cracked or broken and boarded.
There is a university near, and a great deal of students live in these run-down complexes. Drink containers are littered everywhere, and there is a couch softly smouldering on one corner, where it was set aflame.
A pair of bleach bottles have been tossed over some of the electrical lines.
Pyrite lives in one of these complexes, in a tiny flat that some searching will note that he shares with his sister. Shared with his sister. Top floor, which isn't penthouse but nosebleed, and in a twisted spiral tower. There is the staircase down, and there are the window out, to splat down on the street below. There isn't even a fire exit. The flat is a deathtrap.
Pyrite wasn't expecting a caller, and the face he sees through the peephole doesn't entirely reassure him, but he opens the door to let Mirage in.
As soon as the door is opened, Mirage melts away into a sharp-spined diamond-glittering Rock Lord, who slams Pyrite against a wall by his throat, demanding, "You promised us four two days ago. You have delivered nothing. So judged."
Gashing and clawing at the hand against his throat, Pyrite makes a weak radio call into that number that Mirage gave him, and he sputters, "You'll get at least, wuh-one soon."
//Someone's stolen your face. I'm at my flat. I-//
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Post by Mirage on Jul 5, 2010 12:14:21 GMT -5
//Hmpf. How rude. Already en route.//
In reality, Mirage is almost at the apartment complex when Pyrite calls for help, having been on the way to catch up with the Rock Lord about the investigation.
He takes the stairs two at a time, moving as silently as the old architecture will allow. He cloaks as he nears Pyrite's tower, and now he is moving silently, stalking gracefully to the door, rifle at the ready.
What he sees is a bladey, H.R. Geiger-esque version of a Rock Lord, similar to Pyrite, but at the same time, more similar to the Transformers from Skyblast's reality. Rather flashy, and in other circumstances Mirage might be intrigued. However, with the robot currently pinning Pyrite to the wall, one bladed fist shoved clear through the actor's torso, and Pyrite sobbing in pain and fear, it's the anger and tension that's been bubbling through Mirage for days which comes to the surface.
The problem with being assembled of what looks like cut diamonds is that a good quality diamond is rather clear. Mirage has a hunter's instinct for knowing the best place to shoot to either kill or cripple, and being able to see bits of someone's internals only helps that.
He shoots, aiming to try and incapacitate Pyrite's attacker without immediately killing him. Mirage wants to know how the other mech stole his face, and knew enough to do so.
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 5, 2010 15:10:42 GMT -5
The adamantine Rock Lord has a digitigrade stance, hunched shoulders and neck, long spikes protruding from his spine, clawed hands and feet, and a long, whippy tail. His composition is clear at the edges, shading to translucent, then finally frosted, but some of his internal components are indeed visible. He looks quite wintery. In sunlight, he would be spectacularly brilliant, but in the gloom of Pyrite's flat, he is a pale ghost.
Mirage does walk in on Pyrite pierced through the torso by the adamantine Rock Lord, who apparently had no patience for Pyrite's excuses. The Rock Lord turns his head to regard Mirage, and the shot hits into his hip. He falls, talons pulling out of Pyrite with a wet 'shlk'. Pyrite slumps down along the wall, oozing something black and one arm oddly twisted. He isn't dying, but he does gasp and whimper softly in pain, head down and optics dim.
The diamond Rock Lord's image shifts, as he falls, and by the time he hits the floor, he's Rodimus Prime. He hits the floor on his skidplate, one leg down awkwardly, showing the hip wound, the other pulled up slightly. With all the mannerisms and expressions of the Prime, he looks up at Mirage, half-smirking, and asks in the Prime's own voice, "Heya, Mirage. I take it you're not happy to see me?" He holds a hand up to Mirage, obviously intending that Mirage should help him up.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 5, 2010 17:42:11 GMT -5
As the diamond Rock Lord falls, Mirage moves into the room a bit. He does not place himself between Pyrite and the intruder. Pyrite might also not be as he appears; ignoring the possibilities of two shapeshifters would be foolish.
His stand is easy, almost relaxed, but he's prepared to move if the now-Rodimus Prime clone pounces. His rifle is aimed almost negligently at the Rock Lord's head. Mirage doesn't know if a head shot will kill the mech, but it most certainly would discomfit him quite a bit.
"I am not," he drawls, not moving one inch closer to that offered hand. His expression is one of haughty disdain. The intruder thinks to throw Mirage off balance by taking the image of one he (possibly) holds dear. Mirage seeks to throw the mech off balance by his own flippancy and seeming casualness.
"Who are you?."
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 5, 2010 21:51:07 GMT -5
The Rodimus Prime doppelgänger levers himself up unsteadily onto his feet, and he snatches up Pyrite, tossing him over one shoulder in a rather swift motion, despite the bad hip. Pyrite struggles a bit weakly, but the doppelgänger is at least stronger than the civilian Rock Lord.
The doppelgänger smiles at Mirage, quite charmingly, and his appearance melts again, assuming Mirage's lovely visage, and in Mirage's own cultured tones, sounding slightly bored and slightly amused, he replies, "I'm you. You see, Pyrite's going to put up enough of a struggle to knock you out, and panicked, he'll run off and leave your body on the floor here. The police will find enough evidence to pin you for assault. They'll look for Pyrite, but when they don't find him, they'll assume he left town, and there will be no more inquest, and you... you'll just vanish after you're released, at last, like so many do."
The smirk on Mirage's duplicate's face is entirely too self-satisfied, like that of a great cat. He's cocky, one hip jutted out slightly to the side, and he seems to have no fear of the rifle at all.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 5, 2010 22:18:42 GMT -5
Mirage would be green with envy of the other mech's holo/clocking technology under other circumstances. The man is even throwing correct shadows for each of his stolen skins! But now isn't the time to be envious.
Well. Maybe just a little.
"And you expect me to simply stand aside and allow such a thing?" Mirage snorts, "I think not."
Obviously, Mirage being cloaked isn't an issue for this creature, so he gains nothing but wasting his energy reserves on keeping the cloak up. However, it might by him a few seconds, depending on if the guy actually sees Mirage or is just using a form of thermal imaging or some such.
He fires, not at his own smirking head but lower, aiming for the chest of the creature. As he fires, he attempts to tackle the doppelganger, aiming to take hopefully take the other Rock Lord's legs from under him.
Performing of two attacks in one pose ok'd by Scenemod.
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 5, 2010 23:21:42 GMT -5
The skinwalker goes down. Mirage may notice, from the tackle, that the skinwalker is a little bit heavier than Mirage, but the texture and the geometry is spot on; he feels the same shape as Mirage. It really might ring some faint bells, if Mirage really thinks hard...
Pyrite is released and rolls onto the floor in an awkward heap. He tries to get up, but his one arm gives out from under him.
In that rich, cultured voice, the duplicant chuckles and observes, "You're just making this easier on me, leaving all this evidence of struggle. I've even drank what you like, and I bleed like you."
Indeed, the fuel leaking down his chest looks uncannily like Mirage's.
"But you're a fun mark to stalk, oh yes," purrs the clone, idly dipping his fingers in his own fuel and reaching up to try to gently touch Mirage's face. Then, with no gentleness at all, he attempts to lock his legs around Mirage's hips and then violently twist and throw Mirage.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 6, 2010 9:58:15 GMT -5
Mirage jerks back when his shadow-self tries to touch his face, but can't avoid the throw. He goes over hard, cloak finally offlining. Mirage tries to kick free as he hits the floor. If he manages, he'll roll out of reach and back up into a crouch, waiting to see what the other will do now.
Mirage knew that closing with the other mech wasn't the best strategy given his own strengths, but felt it was the best option to keep Pyrite from being appropriated.
But...even hurt as he is, even with a useless arm, Pyrite should be able to at least drag himself away. Instead he's just making token effort....
Mirage is coming to the realization that he is well and truly fragged. The doppelganger's words at first made Mirage thing the intention was simply to frame him for Pyrite's disappearance. Now...now Mirage is realizing that the entire play is designed to capture him, while not alerting his companions.
If this person works for those who kidnapped the others...getting captured would get Mirage closer to the truth.
"You think you can fool people who I've known for years? I think not," Mirage drawls, "You're relying on technology to steal your skins; even if you've been 'stalking' me since I arrived on planet, you don't have nearly enough information to pretend to my name and not be found out."
He tries a radio comment to Pyrite, partially to see if private radio is being blocked. Partially to see if it's being monitored in some way by the skinwalker.
And partially, because Mirage is pissed. His disdain is clear as he almost snarls, //You pitiful, honorless little coward. Did you always intend to sell me off, or did they promise her back in exchange? Does she even exist?//
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 6, 2010 21:38:09 GMT -5
Pyrite does eventually roll over and push himself into a sitting position, and he sounds completely broken and miserable, //No! Nonono. I never meant for you to be taken, too. I thought, I hoped, I prayed that maybe you could really be the one to figure it out, but I... I... I ca-can't-// Pyrite jerks, in what would appear to be some physical pain, which gets worse as the radio message goes on, and when he finally cuts himself off, he's trembling. There is a deeply troubled and trapped look in his optics. Then, he finds some of that courage Mirage accuses him of lacking and finishes, //She's realer than anyone else on this wretched world,// and the effort of it seems to drive psychosomatic knives into his joints.
Over Mirage's own frequency butts in the duplicant, //Gossiping about a fellow behind his back. How gutless and rude. You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves.//
Aloud, he replies, "Oh my dear darling, I have no need of fooling your friends. You'll fool your friends for me."
The skinwalker rises to his feet and languorously licks his own fuel off his fingers. With swift savagery, he twists, body away from Mirage but head over his shoulder, and pivots his torso down, aiming to smash a mule kick into Mirage's head where he crouches. He says softly, "Dreamtime for you now, love."
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Post by Mirage on Jul 6, 2010 22:36:52 GMT -5
"Pardon me if I'm not inclined to be charitable towards you right now, Pyrite," Mirage answers, knowing now he gains nothing from speaking in confidence, as he throws himself to one side to evade kick. Still, the foot clips him, denting the thin armor of his shoulder.
"Not yet, love" he purrs savagely, now back on his feet, "I'm not that easy."
Mirage moves around the room, placing a couch between himself and the doppelganger. This also places him between Pyrite and Mirage's shadow. For all Mirage's anger, he's still protecting the Rock Lord. He shoots again, this time aiming for the line between the creature's hip and thigh, hoping to take out a motor line and impede it's movement.
"What are you? Why fixate on me?"
He also takes a chance, cycles to a different frequency, and makes a radio call.
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 6, 2010 23:52:33 GMT -5
Whimpering softly, Pyrite drags himself over to the counter, tries to haul himself up it, reaches for the telephone-like communicator, an old wheel-crank thing of black and chrome, and he freezes up, just staring at the phone despondently.
The doppelgänger dodges the shot, leaping, and he tries to vault almost over Mirage and then grab Mirage's shoulders, like a Minoan bulldancer. If he can't grab Mirage, he'll land lightly behind Mirage, but if he can grab Mirage, he tucks his legs in mid-spin to redistribute his momentum to try to fling and slam Mirage into the floor.
He drawls thoughtfully, "Such a little gossip. Summon your friends, go on. I can make this look like a gang beating of you silly redshirts, committing a hate crime on another species of mechanoid," isn't he a mechanoid, too? "But ah, you. Your invisibility is a nice piece of kit. Reminds me of an antique I saw in a museum when I was young!"
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Post by Mirage on Jul 7, 2010 9:50:56 GMT -5
As the skinwalker leaps, Mirage drops to his knees, at the same time bringing a hand up to try and stab a knife into his shadow's thigh as he passes overhead. Mirage had picked up the knives during his excursion at the preserve a few days earlier, having had cause previous to lament not having his full hunting kit at hand. The knife is sharp, thin, with a flexible blade (what one would consider a skinning knife).
Regardless of success in that move, Mirage will still find himself off balance and headed to the floor, still clipped by the skinwalker's feet, albeit with hopefully less force. He tries to scramble back up to his feet before his shadow can round on him, but may not manage it. This encounter is a far cry from his usual type of spar, and while he's learned a bit here and there, it isn't his forte.
"That isn't an answer. Why go to the trouble? Why not make him vanish like so many others? If you've been tailing me, you could certainly have timed the abduction to avoid me."
Too many questions, and Mirage will be happy if he gets even the smallest of answers to any of them. He's fishing, obviously so, and can only hope the skinwalker is arrogant enough to let something slip he shouldn't.
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 7, 2010 13:22:04 GMT -5
The knife does scratch that thigh, but the doppelgänger yanks his thigh away away before it can do more than scratch. He lands with a muffled thud on both feet, already half-turning into a combat stance. Then, a knife that appears to be that knife's twin appears in the clone's hand. His optics glitter, and a vicious smile rests on his face, as he answers lazily, "What a self-important little princeling you are, thinking this is all about you."
As Mirage rounds on him, the duplicant punches the knife at him, aiming to slide it, with all the force of an Olympic luge team loaded for bear, right into Mirage's radio, through the armour, with rather unerring aim, as if the duplicant knows exactly where Mirage's radio is located internally.
With almost tangible hubris, he sneers, "You are nothing, machine, and I did not come for you, but I shan't say, 'No,' to such an amusing warm-up, and I certainly shall not turn down the chance to use an obstacle in my way to remove itself. Unlike my peers, I can improvise." That last statement is said with real pride and puts a shark's smile on his - Mirage's - face.
Pyrite doubles over, still leaning heavily against the counter, as he inches his hand over towards the phone.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 7, 2010 14:35:30 GMT -5
The knife strikes true, stabbing into Mirage's shoulder and taking out the radio assembly. The screech of feedback makes Mirage grimace more so than the pain from the blade. Given that Mirage has a channel open to Rodimus, that feedback likely rings in Prime's head as well.
Mirage reaches up to yank out the blade, noting that it really is the same as his own.
How the frag is he doing that?!?
A bit of fear touches Mirage then, not for himself, but for Bambi, who he took right into the lion's den, and for Punch, who risks himself every time he contacts the aristocratic spy. This clone claims not to care about Mirage over much, but that doesn't mean those Mirage knows can't be comprised.
He flips the knife and tosses it, attemptsing to return it point first to its owner.
"You seem horribly confident that I can't keep you from taking him. And even if that is true...I will find him- and you- again."
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 7, 2010 14:59:48 GMT -5
Throwing knives are delicately balanced for aerodynamics; skinning knives are not. Either way, the skinwalker backs up, bumping into Pyrite, who squawks weakly at the jostling, and the clone snatches the blade out of the air by the hilt. The duplicant roughly wraps his free arm around Pyrite's waist, and Pyrite very much seems to not enjoy this attention, marshaling himself enough to slap the duplicant across the face. The clone brings the knife under Pyrite's chin, tilting it up, and he murmurs, "Now that's not very friendly, is it, love? You're being such a very bad boy, and you know what happens to bad boys?"
Pyrite trembles, clearly terrified.
"They go down," the skinwalker finishes, and the knife in his hand vanishes, that he might grab Pyrite by the throat with one hand, keeping the other hand on his hip. He flings Pyrite, head-first, like a battering ram, at Mirage, and he asks casually, one hand on a slightly swayed hip, "How would you propose to find me? Go hunting with that pet of yours?"
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