Log:Past Due Recycling

2015/04/25 Porter 1  Nicholston

Nicholston is the historic name for this part of town, though most people would probably say "near the mall". There's a seaside town atmosphere here, especially in summer, though the traffic on Beach and Wharf Streets are a reminder that this is a full city. The tourist industry prevails, embodied in convenience stores, surf rental shops, souvenir stores and restaurants; and at Wharf and Beach is Boardwalk Mall, unquestionably the center for shopping in the city. The most affordable of the bayside housing is also to be found here. Remarkably, there's plenty of parking, which helps the trade of mall and beach alike.

Shopping. It's been a while since Porter's gone out other than a quick run for necessities. Certainly even longer since he's planned to idly browse the mall. Then again, it isn't Porter, but Third. Which is the idea. Still several blocks away, she absently checks her hair, offers smiles at passersby, and somehow tries to enjoy being out. Despite knowing, and even hoping for, one out to get her to show up. And why are there so many after her, anyhow?

It's definitely different being Third. No one automatically casts blame when something odd happens. People receive 'Third's' smiles with return smiles of their own. On occasion, some guys check her out and try and strike up a conversation. Or at worst, catcall. Which never seems to happen with Third is with Porter. Maybe it's the hairstyle?

The evening is pleasant. The evening trouble free. People walk about their business. And old woman struggles with shopping bags as she carries them to her car.

Oddly, she notices the glances more than the catcalls. Why? Because "she" is even less used to being called at than the real one. Well, or was. At least in rcognizing the significance. So she continues the walk.

As she reaches a more empty section of the street, the sidewalk is lit by the changing overhead signs and street lights. Blues, a green, and then red. Then suddenly, 'Third' gets a bad feeling about this...

Behind Third, a familiar voice announces, "Third of Ten, your scheduled recycling is past due. Prepare for recent history download and recovery of animation energies."

And just when she was beginning to relax a little into the idea of shopping. Then there's the bad feeling. She tries very hard not to tense, to look around too much. That could give something away. So she doesn't look behind her. Which, of course, is apparently where she should have. Only after the voice does she turn around.

Crap. Well, it worked. Sort of.

The red glow cast on the sidewalk comes from the lines of red energy and pathways alone Eighth's body. The black parts of his armor have flecks of silver metal from where he absorbed Forge's Collosus Flesh. He reaches out his hands towards Third, one going for her head, the other aiming for her chest. He's more grabby that the catcallers!

Third doesn't want Eighth's grabby hands anywhere near Third. Didn't he make that clear the last time? Ok, Eighth doesn't know. Still, she's not about to let him do... whatever that is.

Third jumps back away from the grabby hands that are nothing like the ones she now suddenly has pangs of longing for. It's not any consolation that this could be proof that the plan is working. "Get away from me!"

"Request submitted. Request denied. Delaying is futile. Download of recent history download optional. Skip directly to recovery of animation energies." He steps forward after Third jumps back, now only reaching with one hand towards 'her' chest.

Porter may be Third, but that doesn't mean she doesn't still think like Porter. So she didn't draw out the right one. Doesn't mean he can't take advantage of it. "Fine. Recover this!" And maybe Third would be proud as she draws her fist back to smack him.

For once, Porter doesn't break his wrist on Eighth or another serial numbered unit. "System malfunction. System operations at 80.21%. Analysis: Third of Ten operating at below average capacity. Scanning...Arcano-Energy at 0%. Conclusion: Third of Ten should not be operational. Requesting new orders." Eighth lowers his hand and stands there.

Porter sighs. Well, Third does. So the ruse isn't exactly perfect. But it's not like she can tell him to go find another undead cyborg from that series to hunt down... Well, could, but probably not going to work. Besides, he wants to RECYCLE her! "Go shut down or something!" And she goes to hit him again. Below average? Fine. She'll show him.

Eighth gets struck again and some of the red energy lines flare before dimming rapidly from a malfunction. "New orders received: Disassemble." He raises a hand at Eighth and his hand charges up with angry red energy.

A destructive beam of energy strikes and burns at 'Third'.

Third would probably be quicker. The switch to disassembly isn't a consolation. No disassemble! Pseudo-Third tries to dive out of the way, but angry red energy zaps into her.

Eighth's hand charges again and makes a similar humming noise as the previous one did.

Porter Third tries really hard not to yelp as the energy cuts through shirt and zots her good. Luckily, it cauterizes the wound, too? Well, since asking nice and threats didn't work, what now? She grabs up a beer bottle someone carelessly tossed aside and flings it at him.

Eighth's head snaps back and the lights on him flicker sporadically. "Error. Malfunction. Operational status: 14.79%. Probability of damage resulting from bottle: 0.053%. Returning for repairs." A glow begins to suffuse Eighth.

Third glares at Eighth. "Yeah, go back. Hope it takes years to get fixed!" Hey, she can hope! But at least if Eighth's getting fixed up, he won't be after Para. Maybe they can bankrupt Mechaneer with repair bills?

"Translocation in 3...2...1." Eighth vanishes in a cascade of red energy after he finishes charging.