Magicman.EXE (
hypnotherapy) wrote in
datadiving2015-09-09 09:52 am
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oh boy here we go
What Magicman considers fun and what other people consider fun tend to only overlap sometimes. Not many navis (at least, not many surface navis...probably) would find being outnumbered by a lot of hostile navis who wanted to take them apart for parts more of an interesting challenge than a terrifying situation.
Magicman lacks this kind of sensible barrier.
"Fifteen on one? That means I'm facing a gang, probably," he murmurs. If he'd had a visible mouth at that moment, he would have grinned.
"Good odds," he adds, before stabbing the closest one right through the chest and hurling them into their compatriot. After that, the whole situation devolves quite quickly into everyone hitting everyone else. Though he gets hit more than a few times, he's enjoying what he might couch as 'a brisk workout' despite his (admittedly fairly mild) injuries.
Some unsettling aura approaching, incredibly similar to something he's sensed before, makes him pause mid-slash. He absently hops back as his opponent tries to stab him and just as absently parries the strike.
He can't quite make out what that is. It worries him.
Magicman lacks this kind of sensible barrier.
"Fifteen on one? That means I'm facing a gang, probably," he murmurs. If he'd had a visible mouth at that moment, he would have grinned.
"Good odds," he adds, before stabbing the closest one right through the chest and hurling them into their compatriot. After that, the whole situation devolves quite quickly into everyone hitting everyone else. Though he gets hit more than a few times, he's enjoying what he might couch as 'a brisk workout' despite his (admittedly fairly mild) injuries.
Some unsettling aura approaching, incredibly similar to something he's sensed before, makes him pause mid-slash. He absently hops back as his opponent tries to stab him and just as absently parries the strike.
He can't quite make out what that is. It worries him.
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Above, Forte promptly launches several whirling discs of dark energy down at Magicman with a flick of his wrists while he's recovering his footing and standing up on the boulder. ]
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The impact jars and sends him skidding backwards quite a distance until he can brace himself again, but the blades don't touch him, because he's caught them. ]
Hah.
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He drops into a defensive stance again, expecting immediate retaliation upon his opponent's recovery. ]
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Magicman has never been gifted with somebody staring at him with such pure loathing for the all of five split seconds the two of them are unmoving. ]
You - !
[ Then he's lost his footing, and going flying to slam into that boulder. Hard.
Ow. ]
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smart move Magicman
Forte whips around immediately, snarling, and yep, that stunt Magician just pulled sure ruffled his feathers. The whine of energy crackling as it collected rapidly in his hands is all the warning his foe gets.
Earthbreaker, incoming! ]
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He's not fast enough to avoid its wide area of impact, but his quick evasive tactics and his naturally strong defense mean he's only caught partially by the attack instead of hit head-on, and what does catch him tosses him like a ragdoll but doesn't pierce anything too vital.
It goes some way to ensuring that he's not the equivalent of being punch-drunk when he pushes himself to his feet once more. He takes stock of the situation; his left side is severely damaged - though miraculously sparing his emblem - and the impact has rippled through his torso. His right arm is showing some cracking.
His response is to shake himself. ]
Ow.
[ Though he doesn't notice it yet, the sheer amount of damage he's sustained has let something else he usually conceals leak through; there are some strange signals coming from him now that hint at some kind of locking mechanism. ]
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Durable, wasn't he. Why was he still standing? Strong or not, shouldn't he be deleted already? That attack ought to have taken off all his hit points if it had landed head-on. Forte scowls. The netnavi was fast, he'd demonstrated that before - he must have had the pure speed to dodge most of it. ]
Tch!
[ But an opponent who went down quietly would have been boring.
Two sphere form in his hands. Forte still shakes his head a little before he starts to close the distance between them, brow furrowed, trying to dislodge the various bits of rubble that had wedged in the fins and his audio receptors were refusing to stop that unpleasant ringing. Must be the damage. There wasn't any time for resetting the audio. Forte would get on that once he finished off this netnavi and took its power. ]
[ ... ? ]
[ Wait. What was... ]
[ What was that, give him a few seconds to figure it out. ]
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Yellow light shows through cracks; as he makes them visible to check if there's been any damage done, they show clearly to Forte too; shackles, spinning wheels around each 'wrist' and ankle, and a larger one rotating slowly on his back. They're complex programs that are meant to lock something in place. They don't seem to impede this navi's movement, but they're important to him, at least.
There is the faintest suggestion of something else roiling beneath the surface, a strange note underneath all this.
Magicman is still having trouble with the strange signal Forte was emitting; he's trying to work out what it is, exactly. His dizzied processes don't help much, but he has his suspicions. He puts them aside for now. ]
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Locking mechanisms are obvious (even before Forte places his finger on what sort of signals the damage dealt to Magician had left exposed to the open air) in the first glimpse Forte gets of its appearance through the yellow light; its appearance betraying its function. His mouth thins; the sight of them clamped around the other navi's limbs irritates him more than the sword-catching had done seconds before (though it's an irritation devoid of empathy and focused purely on the recollections it evokes.)
Limiters, locks, installed firewalls to keep something inside - was simple to process once identified, easy to decide to waste no time over and attack now. Don't give the opponent breathing room, don't let him set the pace. ]
[ so. ]
[ gonna chuck those two energy spheres at you now, Magiciman. ]
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But you didn't put a lock between you and another being, unless you had the notion it was a being to be worried about. A being its wardens felt wasn't safe. Risky. A threat.
Which asked the question, one Forte hadn't yet wondered:
what would happen if the lock broke? ]
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Even with his dizziness, he's still impressively fast; he skids out of the way of one sphere at the cost of diving, purposely, right into the path of the other.
The decision creates interesting results. He hears the signals that alert him to one of his locks being compromised; his data reacts at that opening. It's nowhere near enough to change his form, but it means he takes less damage than usual - some of it is siphoned off, absorbed in a way that's not like the program Forte uses to copy other navis' powers.
He certainly doesn't intend to die here (the fact that he's conscious enough to hang on at all is a testament to his willpower and his high defense), so instead of retaliating, he begins limping off. He knows that Forte won't allow him to walk unimpeded for long, but he's going to get as far as he can in this form before tipping his hand.
His lack of hand?
Whatever. ]
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When Magician starts limping away, Forte snarls.
So impatient! ]
Where exactly do you think you're going?
[ Again, a low crackle as dark energy collects in Forte's hand. Again, the promise of relentless pursuit. But also, another question: how was the other navi still standing, that should have done it, that should have put him down, what was that faint signal he was picking up on, coming out stronger now that one of lock mechanisms that been stricken by one of Forte's attacks. It buzzed unpleasant, an accompanying noise to the ringing in his audio feed.
hi lunging after you in a blur of movement.
let's try punching, that usually works swell. ]
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Away from you?
[ Still, he can't move very quickly; he pivots to counter, switching his form as he does so - he needs the speed. His data breaks up and reassembles itself, and he meets the punch with one of his own.
Of course, his power here isn't in his arms, so it doesn't have much of an effect except cracking his already damaged restraint a little more, sending damage rippling over him in a wash of pain and alerts. Some of that energy - more of it now - is siphoned away.
He pushes back with a noise that's almost a snarl, before darting away - he's much quicker than he was before. ]
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Oh, but I'm not done with you yet.
[ Forte meets force with force, meeting the counter and bringing up his knee to lash out with a kick at the stomach while Magicman's close enough. He misses. The buzzing sound was starting to annoy Forte. He was certain it was from the NetNavi and the sore discord roosting inside it.
That meant...
Forte takes the return punch square to his side (if he had human ribs, they'd be unhappy with him right now) with a grunt before being shoved back in return as Magicman breaks away and bolts out of reach, towards the canyons that laid between them and the nearest NetCity. Forte tips his head, floating motionlessly in place for an instance, seeing the increased speed and linking it to the shift in appearance.
- his face shifts into a small smirk. Excitement? Or well, excitement under the bloodlust. Interest.
One forearm converts itself into a buster again and - yeah, he's going after Magicman now. ]
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He pushes himself, darting into cracks in the canyon sides, blurring with movement as he tries to make himself less of a target. He's focused on speeding away; if he gets caught, he'll deal with it when it happens. ]
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Buster Rake!
[ HI HOPE YOU LIKE DOGING BUSTERFIRE IN NARROW SPACES SUCH AS THE CRACKS IN CANYON WALLS. ]
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He keeps going despite catching the occasional energy bullet; one hits him square in the back and completely ruins his momentum, sending him tumbling to the canyon floor. He reacts impressively well for someone in his current state, which is to bounce with the movement and keep running, getting up speed again and taking cover when he can.
At the end of it, he's received more than a few new injuries, but he's still keeping up a good pace - albeit slower than before. ]
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But does that mean his pace has slowed down enough for Forte to lunge forward in a burst of speed and grab that large shackle spinning slowly and ceaselessly on the other navi's back? And grab it hard, with both hands, the one that had been a buster converted back to normal, with the possibility of leaving a dent or two in the locking mechanism's surface if he could grab on at all.
Because if it does, that's what he's going to try to do, Magicman.
Since plainly shooting Magicman isn't doing the job in bringing the taller navi down. ]
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and yes, he's slowed enough that Forte can at least grapple with the locking mechanism; he whirls in a panic as soon as it's touched, purple fire flaring up around his 'hands' (claws, now) as he thrashes at the intruder on his back with no sign of his usual relative composure.
He's injured and someone is trying to break his locks. But fortunately for Forte, he's not running any more. ]
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Good, stay put in one place for a sec. So he can adjust where he grabbed and push himself up onto it to get a better hold.
Dogged, Forte hangs on the locking mechanism on the other navi's back with an iron grip, refusing to be knocked off by the surge of movement of somebody who clearly very much wants him off that locking mechanism program now.
The purple fire is unpleasant and he's taking damage from the repeated wild bursts of it that's firing back at him, but the most Magicman's swipes with his claws connect with are the cloak's tattered folds, tearing at the cloth, winning several loud ripping sounds, and since. Forte is. on Magicman's back and thus not that easy to reach when panicking. Forte grins, excited, gloating. ]
Now, what do we— [ Ah yes, the delightful sound of dark energy begining to charge up. you know. from right behind Magicman. It'll take a few seconds. ] —have here?
[ What's behind this lock and is it gonna be fun to fight when he cracks it open. ]
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The next noise that comes out of his mouth as he swipes and flares, purple fire rippling in patterns around his body, can't really be counted as something that would classify as a 'normal' noise. It's a distorted, panicked shriek that dips into somewhere between 'grating' and 'genuinely painful'.
As Forte keeps tugging on that lock, there's a shimmer; some kind of scar pattern that flickers in and out of visibility, an oddly pretty thing that looks almost like an abstract butterfly. ]
i don't know how this turned into some kind of ridiculous piggyback fight BUT SOMEHOW IT DID
It reminds him of a virus, grating and mindless.Eyes squinting against the wild flashes of purple fire burning and flaring around (which are chipping away at his HP but too slowly and unevenly to make Forte let go like Magicman wants him to) under the shadow of his helmet and still not allowing himself to be dislodged from Magicman's back, Forte spots that shimmer.
And without a moment of hesitation, he releases a hand and slams that hand back down where he thinks it is and detonates the dark energy he had charged up, right into the lock, right into the vague outline of the scar pattern on it. ]
IN BETWEEN THE SHONEN ANIME FIGHTS...THERE IS THIS
All in all, it's an unpleasant experience. The pain is unbearable at first and then siphons off in short order as what the lock had been keeping in grows in violently; the force should be enough to knock Forte off. And it would be a good idea not to be touching his back, at this point.
They're 'wings', of a sort, to match the scar's patterns; more reminiscent of Gospel's frill than anything else, pulsing with an unpleasant, ugly reddish colour. Forte's senses will register that this is something that is more or less pure virus material; sensory organs that are oddly pretty and also completely wrong.
He's not quite a virus; the part of him that states he's a navi is loud and clear. But it battles, now, with the other part he'd rather keep hidden; and that signal is now exposed.
He gets to his feet, flinching as the 'wings' on his back pulse, drawing in data to heal his significant injuries. ]
Leave me alone. [ He takes off with impressive speed considering his condition; he seems to be fighting his own healing factor. ]
SO THERE IT IS amazing
So. Definitively getting flung really really hard off Magicman's back and into the canyon wall. There's a shout, pained. (It's short and gritted out.)
Crack.
He takes a few seconds to recollect himself, stubbornly peeling himself out of the crater in the canyon wall. Bits of rock tumble off the cloak. A shoulder guard, cracked. Headache hurts like hell, body hurts, burn marks galore that were slowly starting to close up and heal, audio receptors are banged up. Whatever. Bloodlust, want for the fight to continue overrides them all.
Then Forte re-focuses on Magicman; registers what he'd gotten smacked off with, how it rings with the same sore discord he'd kept picking up on but couldn't determine what it was. ]
So that's it. [ The puzzle clicks. The lock program. The durability. The uneven edges to the two things stretching out from the other navi's back, the clumping together mass of pure red-wrong-unfiltered-pulsing material, it's akin to nothing but bugfrags and at the thought, the Gospel virus entwined with his own system stirs. He's yet to call on it for its power, so it been running dormant under the surface. He and it exist together, without friction; from just an initial impression, it seems Magicman isn't so lucky. The energy signal he gives off conflicts, struggling with the viral signal. How pitiful.
It must be why the lock was there.
... It was strange, however. What kind of surface navi would be merged with a virus, if it clearly didn't like the virus being a part of it? Even it granted him power? ?
???
He floats back slightly, braces a foot against the wall. A Darkness Overload forms in a hand. Simple, to-the-point: ]
No.
[ And he's right off after him. Let a new actual challenge on the battlefield slip through his fingers? Please. ]
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As he increases his speed, falling into familiar patterns, that much becomes clearer; the signals stop fighting each other so much to hint at what the exact nature of his existence is, a seamless merge of two things that shouldn't exist perfectly together.
As he accelerates, his 'wings' pulse greedily, taking in data from the surrounding environment as his control over his 'healing' slips. He reaffirms it in short order, but the fact is that he's still fighting what could arguably be called his natural instincts.
Annoyingly, his speed has increased again, due to his healed injuries. ]
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Speaking of which. The navi's wounds were closing. Tch. Wonderful!
But he had fought other navis with healing factors (and the weaklings who had rely on their humans for Recovery chips) before, even if they hadn't been virus-based, and came out on top.
He puts on speed too, determined to not let his quarry outpace him. They've both gone straight for the skies and left the narrow slots of the canyons behind them in a matter of seconds. More room to maneuver.
Forte lobs two crackling dark spheres at Magicman's form in quick succession. ]
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A fact: viruses swarm to other viruses. What could possibly be called 'cannibalism' comes easily to them. But...
This is a bit different then that. Undernet viruses surface from their hiding places (if Forte pays attention, Magicman's signal has changed to a different wavelength, synchronising with the viruses as they pop out) and begin to swarm, forming some kind of barrier between him and Forte.
They don't attack, but they're mobile, following the other navi as he continues to run ahead. ]
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They're nearing the internet city and odds are good there's one of them there.
Maybe if he ripped off the navi's 'wings' first...
In combat, all of Forte's senses are primed to the ready (except his hearing, mostly done to him needing to reset the damaged receptors) and the change in wavelength makes him first think, wary, attack? then his attention is diverted to alerts on his radar as more, weaker energy signatures come crawling up towards them, amassing.
The resulting floating virus blockage earns a faint laugh as he swerves around a large, geometric outcropping of rock: hey, Magicman he sure did just ping you off a message. ]
A puny display... !
[ Let's try blasting it.
STILL STUBBORNLY TRYING TO CLOSE THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THEM not having that much success but still putting on speed. ]