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Futuristic ⚠Hacked⚠

SachiGrl

Indecisive Being

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  • 00010001010101001... Wel-co... 010010010101... c-come...

    Ding! Ding! Ding! The sound of your mind's state of readiness for operation allows for your eyes to flicker open. Whirs and clicks are made as you adjust yourself upright against the cement wall. You are not at home nor at work. You're in captivity. The reasons, at the moment, are unknown. Your mechanical eyes blinked humanly as you observed the other A.I.'s that seemed to be in the same dumbfounded state as yourself.

    This role play is about illegally enslaved robots. Though robots being used as slaves is not unlawful, but utilizing them for combative purposes is. Most of the robots' primary function is to serve or aid humans. Armed artificial intelligence is prohibited. We, in this role play, would be the enslaved robots. The longer we remain in this illegal activity, the more likely we'll become recycled metal. Our characters' primary goal is to return to their original service/owner/prior-lifestyle. Remaining enslaved would serve of no benefit. In fact, if any robot, even if they were captured against their own 'will', were caught up in this sort of illegal activity, they will be deactivated permanently. Thankfully, robots in this world were build with purpose, and this purpose was instilled in every single one of them. The robots' sense of belonging and purpose has made them work more humanly, and this appealed to the general public.

    At the beginning of our role play, we are to investigate and understand our circumstance. Once this has been achieved, we are then to decide either to accept our new role, use our new lethal upgrades to deactivate ourselves or seek an escape to return to our ordinary life.

    Navigation
    Role Play https://www.rpnation.com/threads/⚠hacked⚠.325388/
    Character Sheet: https://www.rpnation.com/threads/⚠hacked⚠.325400/
    OOC: https://www.rpnation.com/threads/⚠hacked⚠.325399/#post-7725733


 
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Zzzzt.. Zzzt.. Zzzt.. System Rebooting...

Cellvia's eyes flickered open with her bright blue irises lit up. At first, she was indifferent to the bots around herself. She stood before the electrified razor wire while wearing a baffled grin. "Matthew? Lorena?" Her cybernetic eyes gave a few blinks as silence gave her the response she least expected.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Lethal weapons detected...

At a great distance, her eyes scanned and spotted mines, heavy walls and guard towers armed with machine-guns and AA defenses, these often former military bases hold cell after cell of these prisoners, in solitary confinement. Her awkward grin melted into a straight line. What in the world was going on? Why was she held in captivity?

Whirr... Click...

Her head turned towards the other bots who seemed to be in the same predicament. The large hulk-like bot had an intimidating presence. Her programming was flashing bright red light and was screaming: WARNING! WARNING! SEVERAL LETHAL WEAPONS DETECTED! It's arms were practically a weapon, two gigantic laser cannons, but Joe wasn't anywhere near so Cellvia had nothing to fear. Her family is safe. It was she who was in danger. Nonetheless, she walked up to the masculine bot nonchalantly, "Hi." Her programmed cheerful tone rang through her mechanical voice. "Do either of you two know what circumstance we are in?" She looked from the hulky bot to the other bot who was wilted like a poorly nourished flower. Uncertainty came to her as she watched the smaller bot seemingly grieve. Her sympathetic programming kicked in, and she cooed to the other bot, "Are you alright?"

((Third bot is a NPC. Just treat it like a dysfunctional bot that doesn't really respond to anything. I have a surprise instore for that particular bot))

 
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Gilger had been functional for awhile. He wished he wasn't. Three years dormant in the US Navy storeroom, he wakes up, he goes blank. The creep next to him hadn't the foggiest either, and didn't respond to anything with more than a few clicks. He'd checked the door. Razor wire. He'd learned the hard way that it was electrified. Each time he tried to press through, the shock worsened. It was on a cooldown timer, he supposed, one that was far more patient than his metal-alloy plating. He'd checked the walls, the ceiling. There was a whole hellofalotta cracks here and there, at least a couple. But something was wrong with his arm lazers, someboty had either removed, turned off, or disabled the activity couplings. He tried scaning them and found that nothing was wrong, so he'd guessed that whoever was responsible had just opened the panel and flipped the switch off. He didn't have hands, so he couldn't do either of the two. He'd tried smashing through the fragile walls, and one of his faceprints in the wall were proof, but he'd recieved a strong electrical shock, far more powerful than the door, for his efforts. After pacing with his hydraulics whirring Loudly and spouting gutteral profanity for awhile, he'd reluctantly elected to sit down as hard as he could against the wall.

The other one in the room finally rebooted. "Hi." She said. Gilger just grunted and swiveled his head back towards the door. He waited untill she had gone through the early stages of confusion. "Are you allright?" Gilger stood, a piston popped a couple of times in the place a human would consider a thigh. "Don't bother." He grunted, "That one doesn't speak any kind of alelo. At least not to me." Gilger popped his neck to the side, grinding a few gears together with a shivering *cccrrcccikikik* sound, a practice he'd picked up from the humans. The bot in front of him didn't seem to be military, but it never hurt to ask. "You grease? What division? Intelligence, finance, recon? I'm from naval. Think this might be a hazing kinda thing." He didn't, this was friggin' extreme. But there was a minute chance he could be right. Maybe.

Probably not. But he wasn't the one who handled calculations back out at sea.
 
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Whhiiiizzt...

Cellvia's cybernetic eyes widened. Whenever something strange or unexpected occurs, her programming seamlessly reacts like a human would in the situation. Never in Cell's lifespan had she ever encountered such a lively robot. Though physically he remotely looked nothing like a human aside from having similar appendages.

Perhaps slang was hacked into his programming...

That was the only explanation she could come up with upon hearing his unique phrasing. After a ten second data analyzation of his reciprocated question, she concluded that he inquired about her profession. "I am a caretaker, Cellvia Model68. I was manufactured by Cell Industries." As she spoke about her manufacturer, her thoughts trailed back to her purpose: Lorena, Matthew and Joe. Her installed camera software still stored the many pictures she took of them smiling. Automatically, she filed through the stored images and a smile reflected on her face as she watched briefly their several smiling digital photographs.

"Since you were created to serve the Naval, were you not assigned a name?" Cell asked out of curiosity. "My family derived my name from the company that made me," she said with a giggle. "They were not too creative."

((I'm sorry if I have any typos. I had eye surgery last week and I can't really see what I am typing.))

 
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Gilger shook his head, another practice he'd picked up from his creators. "The US of 'merica doesn't make droids to serve in their forces. G1-7G3R, or Gilger. I was chosen, used to work off in construction under the pacific." He took a few steps that led him over to the electrified wire again. It wasn't the wire that fazed him, he'd be able to truck through five tons of that stuff. It was the current. "So if you don't work with them, and Alii over there doesn't, that means we've got a probl-AH!" He'd stuck his arm canon around one of the wires again in a failed attempt to yank it away. Unbeknownst to him, this wire was wrapped around some pretty sturdy bars, horizontally. He thought he'd had enough power in his arm motors to yank to pull away more than just simple iron. What the hell was this stuff?

As he swore under his breath, clumsily cradling his shocked nub of a hand that ended in the smooth gloss of a laser barrel, he overheard two men talking. "Heh, that last fight, damn, that wiped out basically ALL those tin cans!" "Bruv, they DID take out all the tin cans." "C'mon, let me leave some room for the imagination. Gotta let the others think they got at least some chance." "They can't think. They're robots." "That is what the government wants you to think. That's why they don't let us put weapons on them. Even that bigass one, the one with the lasers? Those are considered 'tools'." "Way I heard it, he had some military clearance, they weren't just tools." Meh, whatever. Him an the other ones won't stand a chance, still."

As their voices faded beyond the corner, Gilger had backed up. His head swiveled to the robot on the floor, then to Cellvia. He began to make the connections, the gears practically whirring in his head, quite literally. "Cut the chatter Wahine," He warned, "We got alot more than babysitting in store for us."

Alii= chief
Wahine= female, endearing term
 
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Whhiiiizzt... whhiizzt..

From one cock of the head to two, Cellvia watched Gilger as he spoke to her. She could hear his metallic voice vibrate of off his warrior shaped head. "It is very nice to meet you, Gil-" he stepped toward the neon blue bars and she halted her voice from speaking further. Her nice, genuine smile transitioned to a flat line as she was reminded that she was in captivity. Possibly, very very distant from her family. She didn't like that. Her purpose was to care for them. Her thoughts were placed on hold when she heard Gilger yell from the bar's electric shock. Almost like a detective, Cellvia analyzed Gilger's behavior like he was a criminal of some sort.

How is he able to enact human behavior so perfectly...

Before Cellvia could act upon her curiosity, she simultaneously heard two men in a distance as Gilger did. The conversation at first bewildered her; she was a tad confused as to what were cans, as she was never referred to as a 'can.' She knew these humans' conversations would help benefit in understanding her circumstance, but she had no idea who was 'they' until they splurted robots. Then, the humans went on about a more specific robot. A big one.. with lasers...Gilger!!! she thought to herself. Finally, with that last sentence -Him an the other ones won't stand a chance- If she had an organic throat, she would have gave a big nervous gulp. She connected the dots.

"What about my family? I cannot be in a dysfunctional state! I have a purpose! Joe needs me! Lorena needs me! Matth-" Cell was cut off by Gilger. She gave him a solemn look then proceeded with a nod. "What do we d-" again, she was cut off by another guard with a lush of blonde hair and cold, blue eyes. "Oh great," the man complained and he clicked to activate his radio, "We're down one bot. He somehow offed himself." --KSSHHH-- "Can you see how he did it, Bruv?" --KSSSHH-- "No, man. Go ahead and deactivate the Model68 and G1-7G3R in Cell A1. To compensate for the offed bot, deactivate CH-6R1N is Cell A2. I'll transfer them to the arena."--KSSHHH-- "Roger, Bruv. We'll trash the heap of junk in--"

PIIOOOOOOOOO... System Shutting down.... Cellvia begins to wilt as they deactivated her.

 
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Gilger was not happy. He had been remotely shut down. Sadly, he did not fully shut down like most robots. Since he had ascended his basic programming, he experienced something humans might call 'Dreams'. These things confused Gilger at first, but as time went on, he got used to them. This time he was in the deactivation section of the naval robotics program.

He still had his hands in the dream. He flexed them in front of his face a few times, wiggling his fingers. They were still big, clunky things, but far less big and clunky than two laser cannons. He made a fist and pounded on the glass of one of the deactivation tubes and peered at it. It was him. Gilger wasn't deterred by this, nor was he when he found out he was in the next tube, and the next, and the next. It was a whole army of Gilgers. He stopped a minute and shrugged. He'd make sense of it later, if in fact it meant anything. Realistically however, he'd forget about it as soon as he woke up.

He clicked back on in a strange place. A strange place with a whole shitton of lights. A place with a whole shitton of people. He stood up, shakily at first, his hydraulics straining. Shaking his head like he'd seen humans do after suffering cranial injury, he looked around. There was an orange protocol robot, standing calmly while adjusting his tie. Gilger checked his hand cannons, and miraculously, they were on. A soft blue/green glow came from them as he powered them up cautiously. After seeing the second unfamiliar construct, however, that all changed.

"I do not like this," The protocol robot hummed softly, "I do not like this at all."
 
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A high pitched screech went off as someone seemed to grab a microphone. Before any word was spoken, you could hear a faint clearing of the throat throughout all the speakers in the arena.

"HEY, WHAT'S UP PEOPLE!!! WELCOME TO CYBERWRECK!!!" roared the announcer. His boisterous voice echoed about in the underground facility where they resided. The humans in the crowd reciprocated his enthusiasm with an applause and several screams. Lights in the arena swirled around, almost like they're looking or awaiting for something exciting."TODAY WE BROUGHT BACK YOUR FAVORITE BOT... AMERICAN DESTROYERRRRR!!!" All the lights struck in the direction heavily armed robot. The A.I. rolled in it's tank-like, metal suspension system. As it was programmed to do so, it rose it's right arm with the installed chainsaw and let it rip violently, giving a loud WHIIIRRRRR.

"WE HAVE THREE CONTENDING BOTS WITH INCREDIBLE UPGRADES WHO'LL GO UP AGAINST THE DESTROYER!!"

"G1-7G3R WITH IT'S LASER CANNONS..."

"CH-6R1N WITH IT'S ADVANCED NEURON NETWORK PROCESSOR AND..."

"CELLVIA MODEL68 WITH IT'S MAGNETIC MANIPULATION AND INCREDIBLE SPEED UPGRADE!!!"

"LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!!!"

With no hesitation, the American Destroyer, with his chainsaw still roaring in the air, swung it's massive arm in the direction of all the three robots fighting against it. This initial strike will truly determine if these bots are worth it's time. If they did happen to avoid it's strike, it planned to use it's other arm and shoot the bots down until they're pieces of scrap.


 
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Zzzzt.. Zzzt.. Zzzt.. System Rebooting...

Cellvia rose like a flower leading towards the sun. Her eyes awakened to all the bright lights swirling about. As she heard the arena's speakers elaborating further in her circumstance. She recalled the conversation the two guards had earlier about several A.I.s being destroyed and not even having a chance at survival. She looked around and was relieved to see Gilger , but she didn't recognize the other A.I.. Hopefully, with these two bots at her side, she may be able to survive this. No. She must survive. She can't abandon her duty. She had humans to care for and nurture.

I will not lose...

Warnings began to flash with her mind as the 'American Destroyer' appeared. To state that he was lethal would be an understatement. A chainsaw in one hand and a recoilless rifle. Her mind began searching and processing the weaponry he had equipped. The rifle on his left arm is a type of lightweight tube artillery that is designed to allow some of the propellant gases to escape out the rear of the weapon at the moment of ignition, creating forward thrust that counteracts some of the weapon's recoil.

One weakness identified...

She needed to shared this newfound information with the others. "Gilg-" her instinctual reflexes of survival kicked in as the words -Let the battle begin- escaped the announcer's lips. "Oh boy," the Destroyer's arm that was in the air came down in their direction. The chainsaw became louder and louder as it inched closer. The thrusters on the back of her thighs and calves initiated and zoomed her out of the chainsaw's reach. Before she could check on the other's wellbeing, she detected another incoming attack.

THRAT!! TAT! TAT!

The A.I. painted in patriotic colors and eagles mounted on it's shoulders began to utilize it's recoilless rifle, aiming in her direction. Thanks to her programming, she was able to dodge most of the bullets. A few bullets were supposed to severely injure her arm, but something protected her.

A shield generator.... Cellvia realized this new body modification had protected her. The light blue shield, only visible to her eyes, was now cracked. Another shot at her arm and the shield will deactivated around it. She now had to be extra conscious.

 
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*ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-ZZZ-ZZZ CKKKKGGGGGGGNNNNNNNN_VRTVRT*
Reflexes. That's what humans called them at least. He didn't really care, cuz he frickin' had them. The blade had come down once, sweeping past the black and orange one and Cellvia, but the second swing came down towards Gilger. He dropped his shoulder just in time, pulling up the other to block it. The spinning gasoline fueled blade screeched across Gilger's shoulder plate, leaving a silver, metallic, grating mark across his chassy, contrast to his dark green factory paint. He didn't feel pain, but he winced at the harsh noise it made, as it would probably have startled someone out there.

As the chainsaw swung at him, the other arm shot a few bullets. Gilger couldn't get to that arm in time, He was still dealing with the chainsaw. He was worried about Cellvia, but that worry changed to suprise when something stopped them. "Bloody fudge Cell," He said, parrying a swipe of the saw with the back of his arm, "Tell me about yourself before you act like a damsel!"

Now who was a damsel was CH-6R1N. After firing at Cellvia, the 'murica bot turned its barrel at CH-6R1N. He stood there, just nonchelantly, then took three steps to the side. The barrel of the gun swiveled to follow him, almost crossing the chainsaw. Meadbutting and pushing up with both of his arms, Gilger shoved the barrel up, recieving another scrape up the top of his thigh from the blade. The gun went of a few times in a three rounnd burst, then another, and another. Gilger returned the chainsaw swipes with a few jabs of his own, bludgeoning the other robot with the blunt bit of his lazer cannon. They still would need time to heat up before he could get off a few blasts. Yet CH-6RIN seemed to stroll about the arena like it was normal. "The hell you doin Chagrin?" Gilger called, "This isn't a walk in the park! Help us out here!"
 
CHAGRIN
The transaction robot was calm. He usually was. He wasn't able too feel anything else really, it was part of his programming. He wasn't anything special, just a commonplace, normal, generic transaction broker. As shots began to fire, he stepped nonchalantly behind the large plated one, G1-7G3R. After observing his behavior for a minute or two, Chagirn determined he'd place himself between Chagrin and the aggressor. There was something strange about him though, he behaved almost human. After classifying the tank's algorithms as such, Chagrin proceeded to plan.

A cage. A crowd. And four dueling robots. The situation did look 'grim,' as the humans would say. Chagrin would too, if he was a human. But he was not, so he would not, simply put. Humans were barbaric creatures, his recent situation proved as much, and were not to be trusted.

Now. What did he have around him? He had the tank. He had the other robot, the caretaker. Her boosters could be used to bash the opposition into submission, but given that Gilger's attempts had failed, it didn't seem likely. The tank needed some time to charge its beam weapons, that was the only thing that would punch through their opponents armor, short of an anti matter sniper rifle. Industrial grade. Where these savages had gotten them and what they did to the poor bot's hands, Chagrin didn't want to know. Those weren't ever assigned to that model, he HAD to be an experiment for the humans perverse pleasure. He also had himself. Just him, his suit, his shoes, and his processor.

What would he do? There was a cage. The faint hum eminating from it announced its electrification, even over the roar of the crowd. And there, there was a generator, with its cord stuck to one of the bars. He had the caretaker, the tank, himself... Himself. His shoes. Shoes had rubber. Rubber stopped electric currents. Taking off his shoes, he ripped the soles from the bottom. Wrapping his hand in the scraps, making a mitton of sorts, he reached past the electrified bars, grabbing the generators wire in his rubber crab claw. Then he stood, holding the cord behind his back, which faced the cage away from their opponent, careful not to touch. He turned to the caretaker bot and nodded downwards towards the floor, insinuating that he wanted to fry their opponent.

He'd need to get it within reach, however. The cord wasn't very long. He'd also have to avoid being blown to bits in the process. He was still working on that part.
 
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Gilger seems to be experiencing signs of distress...


It was almost natural for her to apologize. "I'm sorry," she spoke in her most sympathetic voice. In reality, they didn't have much time to talk. Now, having a casual chat about their new upgrades was not an option. The thrusters behind her calves did their job in propelling her away from most of the bullets heading her way. The key words here, though, was MOST of the bullets.

Piooooo... Left arm's shield generator deactivated...

Another shot at her left arm, and it may likely be severed. She truly would like to decrease the possibility of that occurring. Her body was now facing the American Destroyer at an angle. She got a glimpse of Chagrin walking about the arena as Gilger openly acknowledged his nonchalant-ness, but he was looking for something. That's for sure. Next thing you know, the fancy looking robot is picking at his emulated foot garments.

What could he be possibly be thinking? Is that...

GUSHHH!! Her thrusters went off again as warnings flared in her 'mind'. At the corner of her eye, she spotted Chagrin trying to speak with her. He was gesturing towards an electrical cord he held with his... sole? This bot had an interesting mind. She gave him a thumbs up and first went up to the gentleman-like bot to notify him of the Destroyer's weakness, "You need to aim at his tracks. It's his only source of movement!" With that said, she went off to capture the attention of the overtly weaponized bot.

 
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The crowd was in an uproar. After the American Destroyer's first strike, none of the robots resulted in metallic rubble. Several gasps and cries of panic erupted as Gilger took on the Destroyer head on. Their interaction was teeth clenching. It seemed the American Destroyer was determined to eliminate first the seemingly largest threat, Gilger. It focus it's chainsaw on it's primary opponent while it's other gun spewed bullets at the other bots. The Destroyer did not have any strategic programs installed, so most of it's movements were rinsed and repeated.

"WOW!!! LOOK AT THOSE BOTS GO!!!" enthusiasm oozed with each word spoken by the announcer. He shared just as much shock in his voice as the crowd as he continued to verbally describe the ongoings within the arena.


"G1-7G3R MANAGED TO DODGE THE AMERICAN DESTROYER'S BLOWS... BUT LOOK AT THAT SCRATCH!!! OUCH!!!"

"INCREDIBLE!! THE THRUSTERS ON THE BACK OF CELLVIA MODEL68'S CALVES SAVED IT BY THE SKIN OF IT'S TEETH!!!"

"CH-6R1N SEEMS TO BE COOKING SOMETHING UP WITH IT'S ADVANCED NEURON NETWORK PROCESSOR... EXCITING!!!"

"SO FAR, THIS HAS BEEN THE BEST BATTLE YET WITH THE AMERICAN DESTROYER!!!"

"HEY! WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!! CELLVIA MODEL68 IS TRYING TO GET THE DESTROYER'S ATTENTION!!"

"ARE THE BOTS TRULY WORKING TOGETHER?! UNBELIEVABLE!!"

Sadly, Cellvia's plan to inch the Destroyer closer to Chagrin failed; for the destroyer's primary focus was Gilger. Since the female emulated bot did strive for it's attention, the American Destroyer gave Cellvia a nice surprise. It utilized the two launchers on it's shoulders and aimed towards Cell with it's large armor-piercing shells. KOOF! KOOF! Off they went along with a loud explosion.

 
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If not for the announcer, Gilger would have had no idea what was going on. Apparently his teamates were either running for their lives or standing around planning something. A quick look behind him awarded him another swipe of the chainsaw, barely blocked by his forearm. Sparks flew, metal grated, but Gilger stood his ground. He couldn't roll like this forever though, and his laser cannons were charged, so he decided to take Cellvias advice and go for the treads.

Timing another parry just right, Gilger pointed the other lazer down and unleashed hell on the American Destroyers base. He only took out the right tread before being shoved back bodily. Gilger gambled by trying to fire the other one, but his shot went wide, the glowing orange beam of the laser leaving rents across the floor. He stumbled and fell backwards, raising his arms to protect his face from the bullets that followed, clanging off his heavily armored forearms and ricocheting everywhere. The chainsaw blade came down once again, and he rolled to the side, out of its reach. It couldn't move as well now given that its base was half-destroyed, but it was still a threat.

Turning his head for the first time in awhile to confirm the safety of his teammates, he could see that Chagrin had some sort of wire. Even more, he was holding it with some rubber. Putting the pieces together, it only made sense that to take this guy out of commission, they had to fry him. "Cell!" He shouted, "I'll keep him busy! Help me knock him over and push him towards Chagrin!" More close range fighting ensued, and the clash of metal on metal sounded out time and time again.
 
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KOOF! KOOF!

Cellvia didn't like the sound of that. Instead of the usual Tratata sound coming from the Destroyer's left arm, it seemed the two guns on it's shoulders weren't just there to appeal the audience. "Oh boy," she said to herself. The large metallic shells filled with powder ready to combust, were slower than the bullets that shot at her earlier, but the issue isn't swishing away from the bullet. It is the explosion once the shell comes into contact with the ground. With quick calculations, she knew she couldn't get away far enough to avoid it's explosion. Suddenly, her body acted on it's own. She felt a strange surge within her and her hands lifted as if trying to halt the incoming missiles.

I... can control metal?

"CELL!!" she turns to him, still wearing shock in her expression. The two missiles were still in the air, motionless.

"I'll keep him busy! Help me knock him over and push him towards Chagrin!" With her newly discovered ability, she can definitely do that. The American Destroyer was a giant heap of metal. If she can control two giant metallic shells, then she could control that bad guy.

Okay, let's give this power a try...

She stood behind the Destroyer as it focused on Gilger. She waited until the magnetic field within her skeletal system hummed with energy and then she tried to push the giant metal monster. Some would say 2 feet would be a great feat, but not when your life is still in danger. Now, all Cell can do is continue pushing and hope the Destroyer gets close enough to Chagrin.

 
CHAGRIN
The transaction robot waited patiently as the two titans in the middle of the ring clashed. Bullets flew left and right, up and down, bounching this way and that off Gilger's armor. The American Destroyer had a good bit of dents in it, and smoke coming out of one side of its base. Gilger couldn't seem to aim at anything unless it was still and point blank, which made sense since he was fending off the chainsaw at the same time. The Destroyers attention was almost fully on the huge, steel green tank of a construction robot, with little to spare for Cellvia, and none for Chagrin.

As he tapped his foot impatiently, his steadfastness was rewarded by the other two coming up with a sort of plan. Gilger stayed in front, while Cellvia used some sort of polarity genorator (he'd sold quite a few before) to shove it over. The duo suceeded, with Gilger sidestepping one last swing of the chainsaw blade quite deftly, and shoving the off-balance robot to the ground. A resounding *CLANG CLANG CLANG* could be heard as the two bots grappled on the floor, the chainsaw still spinning but useless at such close range, the blunt side smacking against metal, the floor, itself, over and over again. The sound was mimicked by Gilger, pounding on the other tank with his still hot laser nubs he had instead of hands. Slowly but surely however, the two half-rolled, half-pushed their way towards Chagrin, while Cellvia still concentrated with her hands out in front of her. The human eye would be focused on the two large robots, but Chagrin knew better. That cost him an arm in the end.

As they came within reach, Chagrin waited. He waited and waited, but could not find an opening. The best one came about every three seconds, where he would have a 42% chance of loosing whatever appendage held the electrocuting wire. That's the lowest it got, and he took it. Thrusting the frayed ends of the wire forwards, it caught under a dented panel, peeling off from the heat and the pressure of Gilger's nubs. He yanked his arm back just in time before Gilger let off another laser blast, but failed to dodge the chainsaw blade that followed. Falling backwards, and leaving his lost arm from the top of the elbow down, Chagrin cursed his processing curcuits for not taking into account the human acting robot. Then, a large burst of fire and sparks as the american destroyer ceased to function, the roar of the crowd, a buzzer, and a wrench. The wrench was thrown at him, specifically, perhaps not at him, ut in his general direction. The wrench hit the part of his body a human would consider a "head", knocking loose a screw on his carefully wired and positioned motherboard. Two of the said wires touched, and that was when his world went black.
 

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Standing up from his rough toussel on the ground, covered in scratches where the silvery bits of metal were betrayed by worn paint, Gilger looked around. He could barely hear the announcer over the roar of the crowd. They liked action. They liked fighting. They liked destruction. Gilger wouldn't lie, he couldn't blame them. He liked most of the same things, for mostly the same reason. He rose a triumphant laser cannon skyward, pumping it up and down. This was living, what a rush of sensory stimulation was going through his circuits right now! "Yeaaaaaaa baby! That's what i LIVE for!" He shouted.

He barely had time to think why he had used the word 'live'. He wasnt alive. He'd never drawn breath in his life. But something told him that this is what it was to be human, to feel a rush of sorts, to ignore his programmed logic and statistics. The same thing he'd felt back in hawaii scorching russian terrorists and beating down doors, the same thing he'd felt during military training camp. The sad part was, the announcer was saying something about powering down. Then a wrench was thrown at Chagrin, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. Gilger didnt have time to react, for some reason he was blacking out as well. "Dawww shit..." He cursed, stealing one last look at Cellvia with a triumphant 'we did it' look. His legs were heavy, his arms fell to his sides, and his gaze dropped. He had been temporarily deactivated.
 
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Cellvia smiled as their large opponent tumbled down. Everything went according to plan. The American Destroyer was close enough to Chagrin, so he electrocuted the metallic scum. Not only was it's tracks fried, but she imagined it's motherboard as well. The Destroyer was completely dysfunctional, but what did that mean to them? They got to 'live' another day. She looked up and around the arena. Her camera-like eyes couldn't see past the bright lights roaming about them. The crowd was so ecstatic, the announcer didn't even bother to speak over them. Cell was caught of guard by Gilger's words: Yeaaaaaaa baby! That's what i LIVE for!

He must have a human brain intertwined with his cybernetic mind... He's way too human...

"Oh goodness, gracious!!" she didn't react much to Gilger's prideful stance, but rather to Chagrin's sudden lack of stance. She caught a glimpse of what seemed his end. At the velocity the object flew at him, his head must literally be nearly split in half. The words that uttered out of her mouth were the last of her controlled actions. With two steps forward and a tilt of her head, she slowly deactivated

System shutting down...

Moments later, she reactivated in a new cell chamber, but these particular cell seemed more fit for a incredible monster. The facility used motion sensors to keep watch for suspicious activity, remote-controlled doors, pressure pads to detect footfalls, and lasers to scan the perimeter. To her relief, Gilger was again in her cell. She smiled sweetly at his deactivated-self. Chagrin came later into her mind and she quickly scanned the other cells in hopes to see he was alright.

 
48245.jpg The sounds of turning on filled his metaphorical head. It sounded like a lot of whirring, clicking, buzzing, e.t.c. He noticed the setting he was in. It looked light maybe a shipping container or a cell of some kind. There were lasers too. Wait. There were lasers!? "Okay, what's happening. I do not know what is going on. I would be very pleased of someone told me where I am and why." He said in a completely calm way. To most, this would probably be a very stressful situation. But he had what most others did not; a radio.

He was very proud of this radio, for that it had spared him from hours and hours of being bored while fixing cars. He could listen to the news, music, and not much else, but he was fine with that. He wondered where Shirlee and her daughter Paula were now. Judging by the 4:00 news live radio station that was on right now, they were probably both off work, driving home by now. "Good. If I get out soon enough, I could get back to the shop in time." He said quickly, and looked around the room for something he could get out with. Maybe a wrench. But then it came back to him. Shirlee had retired, but Paula couldn't take up the job. He had been deactivated, and now he was here. Soon, he would probably be taken to a junkyard. Dismantled, and made into something new.

There was no avoiding that, so, like he has done countless times, he sat down, and listened in to the radio.
 
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Gilger wasn't too happy that he was back in a cell, especially a different one. Unlike last time, he didn't try to beat the walls down, or rush through the shock lasers. He checked his own, and sure enough, they'd been deactivated once again. He flipped them over, just a tad bit frustrated that he lacked hands. He saw that Cellvia was here too, but not the trade bot, Chagrin. He rolled his shoulders, loosening up a bit. He turned to Cellvia. "Where's Chagrin?" He asked. That little guy might not have been too useful at the beginning of the fight, but he did ok at the end.

Gilger watched as one of the facility droids- computers really, they were too old to think for themselves- came and dropped a new bot in. Gilger said nothing when the new one activated, sitting down after the initial state of confusion. "I dunno what you think you're doin, kiddo," he said, "but now's not the time to listen to music." He looked at Cellvia, shaking his head. He didn't think they'd be with him for long. Either he'd get his arm removed like Chagrin, or they'd never see him again like the other one. He counted himself and Cellvia lucky to stay together.
 
The Model 14 did not notice the two other bots next to him until he heard the one without hands started to talk over the music he was listening to. He turned off the music to hear "-not the time to listen to music" He was sort of angry, but he realized that he had been wrong. He couldn't blame him for being angry because he was listening to the radio when work was to be done! He could probably help to get out of here! But then again, probably not. But, he could help to break out, if we were going to do that. If he was going to be useful, he had to help a bit. He stood up abruptly, almost as if he was offended, but he wasn't. He was just looking for tools. "Anybody in ownership of wrench or something? That would be very useful in this... unfortunate situation." He said, eager to help now. His inner mechanic was starting to kick in. He was thinking quite quickly. Maybe I could fashion up a makeshift gun... or try to disable the lasers... Okay. Now I'm just exiting myself. Nothings going to happen... Unless... He paced around the room quickly, scavenging around for some parts or tools he could use.
 
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Cellvia, of course, did not expect to shut down as she scanned the other cells looking for Chagrin. When she rebooted, she resumed scanning the cells. "Where's Chagrin?" came Gilger's boisterous voice, she responded accordingly to him, "He is not in any neighboring cells." Turning around, she displayed an expression of disappointment, it then transitioned to curiosity.

This robot was not here earlier... He must be the reason as to why they temporarily shut us down...

"Hi, I'm Cellvia," her greeting was automatic; a genuine black-painted smile was added to the mix. Her eyes followed Model 14 as he reacted to Gilger's comments. It seemed his emotion programming is slightly damaged. She was reading all sorts of emotional signals from the robot: angry, eager, antsy, upset, indifferent, and so on. "I highly doubt there's anything available for us to use aside from our own bodies," she stated in a matter of fact robotic tone. "Do you have a name?"



((In the OOC I'll talk about what will happen next))
 
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Folding his arms and leaning against the wall, Gilger began to think. He didn't like the new guy too much. He did have escape in mind, but it wasn't an immediate thing. He and Cell had taken care of one of the toughest bots in the fighting club, apparently, what worse was to come? Unless the humans got ahold of some bot with armor piercing rounds, or a volt cannon, or a laser cutter like his, he'd be fine, at the very least. He rubbed the nose of his laser cannon against one of the scratches he'd won in the previous fight. He'd accumulate more for sure, but it wasnt all that bad. He wondered if any of them would be taken in for repairs.

But the whole setup was, in an understatement, strange. In the military he was deactivated three whole years with no use. Why go through the trouble of putting the robots in cells and reactivating them? Whatever the purpose, Gilger was sure they were constantly being watched. If he could disable the mnitors, maybe tey'd have a chance to wreak some havoc. Kick in some doors. Gilger would like that.

"I will tell ya what you could get us bud," Gilger said to the newcomer, "Like, one of those things humans call coins. Or a small flat piece of metal like it." Maybe money could be used to persuade a greedy human to look the other way. He wouldn't be able to fake the money, but Cell or the other guy might. He didnt have hands. No matter. Soon as he had the means, he was charging up his weapons and blasting the hell outta here.
 
The Model 14 was pacing around the room when Cellvia remarked about not having wrenches, but it was the second sentence he surprised at. Do you have a name? He had never been called a name, besides scrap metal or gear-head by customers. What kind of name would he have? Ross? No, Gear Head? Yes. Definitely. Simultaneously a nickname for a mechanic while being a pun on being a robot. "I don't really go by a certain name, but I guess I'll just use the cheesy pun of Gear Head because why not..." He said, kind of trying to lighten the mood, but it probably wasn't working. He started looking again before the one with big gun arms said something about coins or flat pieces of metal. Where would he get one of those? He didn't think he had any pocket change. Oh yeah! He had a radio! Yes! He rubbed his hands and started unscrewing the hearing module in the side of his head similarly to how a human would pick there ear . It took a little bit, but he finally got it out. "I don't assume I'll be getting this back, but I'm pretty sure I have a couple spares. What do I need to do? Actually, it might not work, I think its bigger than a quarter. Maybe its as big as a half-dollar coin. I dunno." He said loudly. "Am I yelling?" He could only half hear, so of course he was loud. He grabbed one of the spares, attached to the back of his neck, behind the collar like armor he had not known about before, and screwed it back in. That was better.

((Just so you know, the hearing module was just a thing on the picture if you look. If there was something wrong with this, tell me))
 
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Cellvia smiled as she watched the new A.I. among them seemingly ponder about his name. As expected from any artificial intelligence, he replied with a strange name. None of their names, not even Cellvia's, was a name a human would acquire. She often wondered why her owner decided to stay with her programmed name, but out of all their names, Gear Head took the cake. A jingle like giggle erupted from her. Each syllable laughing an octave higher than the prior.

Hee! Hee! Hee!

"Nice to meet you, Gear Head," again, her response was automatic; minus the jingle-like laughed added before hand. Suddenly, she recognize the mechanics deep within her system beginning to shut down again. She thought that perhaps a new A.I. would be joining them, but little does she know. Gear Head is about to be tested in the arena with two other bots similar like their previous event.



 

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