|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Jan 1, 2012 12:20:20 GMT -5
So! Before I launch this thing, some background info. The idea for this RP started on twitter. Your pal Weirdo and I agreed to start an outside RP here, and update what's happening on twitter.
This is about a competition, involving Jet, Orbot, and a nutsload of characters you may or may not have heard of. Here, Jet will be sent to an arena, and will face off a variety of foes. If Jet loses, the RP ends, or, Orbot may give him another chance. If he wins a battle, he will move on up, or be given the choice to leave with a large sum. If he beats everyone, he will be given a luxury, or, have a double or nothing battle with the last contestant. Anyway, more will be explained throughout the story. If you want to join, ask me or Weirdo first. But this is primarily a one on one RP.
So, TL;DR: Jet vs Different characters with Orbot involved in some way, just me and the bearded one, ask before you jump in and do any funny buisness.
-----
In a wasteland filled with scrap metal, located at the magnetic north pole of planet otherwise considered filled with life, there was a city run by automatons. Here, rules apply a differently. A stadium filled with gladiators, fighting for their freedom, are observed by an audience. Most robots, with the occasional form of life. A small droid, hovering above a pedestal, apparently the authority, overlooks the battle. Within the stadium are two prisoners, fighting just to escape this place. One a boy with the characteristics of a young fox, another seemingly older, being a hedgehog. The way this duo fought seemed to imply they didn't know each other, showing no signs of hesitation. With a scream, the fox triumphs, managing to snap the hedgehog's legs, finally making him collapse. A robot comes to determine if the hedgehog is conscious. He is not. He raises the foxes' arm in victory, and the gates to the coliseum opens, as the fox limps out.
As the overseer droid, a robot of a orb like shape, oversaw the battle, he softly chuckles, uttering the words "Irony. Funny thing."
He turns to his side, there being a robot of a similar build, with the exception of being yellow, as opposed to the robot's red, and in the shape of a cube, compared to the orb like shape of Orbot, the overseer. Cubot was clapping, with shrills of joy.
"Cubot, tell me, the volunteers?"
"Hee Hee! That was-- oh right. They're all in their cells. Some of 'em dozing, some of 'em ready to rumble!"
"Hm. Who's the newest one?"
"Lemme see... Uh. J...jehhh..."
"...Come on. Let me spell it out. J... E..."
"JET! That.. Bird guy! I knew that."
"Alright. Pair him with... Him. Cubot, who do you think I should pair him with?"
Cubot quickly goes into a thinking position, contemplating what would be the most "awesome" to watch. The crowd begins to quiet down, awaiting his answer.
"Hee Hee! I got it!"
Within the walls of the arena's complex, lies apartments. Half of these are styled, with a bed, fridge, and a medium sized television set, marked under "Volunteers". The other half of apartments resemble bathroom stalls, with torn mattresses, and a small black and white TV. These were marked "Slaves". Within the apartments are warriors of different backgrounds, some criminals, others being those who wanted to just play the games.
A droid of a bulky build carried a large sign, in front of the entrance. He has a name tag, with an electronic display reading: "Escort-EGG-Pawn-Model 6792: But you can call me LARRY". He stood among a set of robots of similar models, each holding signs. They all held signs with names, marked volunteer, or slave. Larry's sign read "VOLUNTEER: JET THE HAWK". He awaits the arrival of the volunteer.
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Jan 2, 2012 1:17:55 GMT -5
((Sorry I'm late, brain absolutely exploded for a bit. Probably in part due to only having five hours of sleep.))
Sitting idly, that very avian in question scanned his surroundings for what felt like the thousandth time. Nothing but a cheap TV for kicks? This thing doesn't even have cable! It's just a bunch of lame Eggmanland propaganda! When he was told he'd get a fight, he didn't expect to have to wait. It was all the young bandit could do to keep himself from breaking the thing for a quick thrill... Needless to say, it felt like a godsend when the door leading out gave a loud click, signaling that it had been unlocked.
Just as he was summoned, the mischievous fowl arrived with his arms crossed, meeting the droid with a dull stare. "Jeeeez, you guys took your sweet time," the hawk drawled, "So you got a name for the poor sap unlucky enough to go against me, or do I get to find out after I start kicking his teeth in?"
Answer or no, Jet followed the machination wherever he was led, paying no mind to the surroundings around him, as well as any poor, trapped soul begging freedom. His mind was locked on the fights ahead, that ever-nagging fear of failure present in the back of the thief's mind. Nah. No way that's happening. These losers had to be caught to end up here in the first place! How am I supposed to lose against a bunch of amateurs like this!?
...Besides, if the rumors were true, then soon enough he'd be in line for some long overdue payback.
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Jan 2, 2012 10:35:43 GMT -5
The Eggpawn guided the hawk's way to an entrance into the arena. Oddly enough, the audience was eerily quiet. Larry peers through the gate.
"Alright, buddy. Lemme tell ya you're gettin' some treatment here. You know who's waiting for you on the other gate? A guy who's ready to explode just to see you. Boy, did his eyes light up when he heard he'll be fightin' ya. Ever heard of Bean? Duck, lil' shorter than ya, your color?" Larry questioned. He may be a droid, but something about his tone of voice, that hint of mockery, he knew a lot more about this than it seemed.
"Cuby said he'd thought you two might know each other. Orby seemed to have the same thoughts." Larry continued, now starting to chuckle. The gates opened. As the red hued sunlight burst through the gates, a voice familiar to all residents of the city filled the coliseum.
"LAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN! ANOTHER ROUND, OF, THE FREEEEEEEDOM GAMES!" It shrilled. It was Cubot. And he was having a ball. Orbot however, kept his usual calm disposition. He observed the arena in serious thought.
"Ooooon this side! We have that Baby-Lon wonDAAAAR! Jet the Hawk." Monotoned applause filled the stadium, along with neutral remarks, most rather discouraging.
"And on this side! YA KNOW 'IM! THE BOMBASTIC, Bean the Dynamite." A similar reaction came from the audience, as a spright, young duck leaped into the battle field from the gates opposite of Jet.
"THEY LOVE ME! THEY REALLY LOVE ME!" He shouts, blowing a kiss as the audience stares blankly at him. Orbot chuckles.
Larry turns to the hawk, as the gates fully open, now leaving Bean, in plain sight, yards away.
"Are ya ready?"
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Mar 23, 2012 0:11:06 GMT -5
The hawk's shoulders drooped, picking up on the guide robo's hint almost immediately. "Really? Out of everyone you had down there, this was the best you could find?" He took a glance back, his quarters suddenly looking very appealing, though he reluctantly continued on. There was always that thrill of the croud waiting, anticipating the smell of blood like hungry sharks looking for a little violence. Thousands all here to see him and him alone...they just didn't know it yet.
As always, the crowds didn't take very well to the foul fowl, the only applause even there to greet him clearly canned. Jet didn't seem to mind. In fact he fed off of it. He loved to start an upset or rile up the masses. It all seemed like the perfect moment, except for that one lingering problem.
Bean.
"Do I really gotta waste my time on...him?" he pleaded one last time, "This guy'll beat himself up if you let him! Just put a hammer in the arena, ten minutes tops and he'll find a way to stab himself with it! I mean, serioulsy, come on! Nobody wants me to see me knock out this loser! It'd just look sad and I'd feel guilty for wailing on a short bus rider! Don't you have any 'special' Freedom Games for him or something!?"
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Mar 23, 2012 0:32:59 GMT -5
The robot stared at Jet for a while.
"This ain't an ordinary Bean, sonny. Y'see, our slaves are special. You could say they're a little darker, and a bit stronger." He insisted, attempting to keep a chuckle to himself. He motioned towards Bean, with a slightly rushed, or pushy implication. The gates closed as the crowd hushed. Bean suddenly stopped kissing to the crowd, and suddenly stared right at Jet, with an expression never seen on his face before; seriousness.
"Enough funny buisness, kiddo, let's get down to buisness." He began. His voice was deeper, and showed signs of experience. It was the strangest thing; Bean wasn't hyper. Mentally unwell, yes, of course, but he kept an eerie composure, which was alien to his true persona.
Cubot, still on a pedastol, high above them all, made some sort of ungodly shriek, which lasted a good ten seconds. Only the Mobians of the audience seemed to mind; the robotic portion were actually getting hyped up by it. Bean remained calm.
"SO! A RECAP. WHATEVER YOU DO, DO IT WELL, AND DON'T BORE THE CROWD! LET THE BATTLE begin."
Bean acted unlike himself. He loosened his arms, and began approaching Jet, in a sort of little mischievous jog. He was crazy like Bean, but seemed less... dumb. He looked like he had a strategy, and was actually aware of the consequences that could unfold if he threw the wrong maneuver.
"Let's start this off, buddy boy!" He cheered, enthusiastic, hoping not to gain freedom, but just a lovely change of pace from a newcomer, compared to the others he fought years before, who still remain within the halls of the Eggmanland detention facility.
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Mar 23, 2012 1:11:36 GMT -5
These fighters were different? That would explain the unusual welcome to Eggmanland just days ago. The hawk knew something was off with several of the faces he knew and loathed. He didn't care how, nor did he have the time. All Jet knew was that this duck in front of him wasn't going to sit and shout nonsense in the middle of a match.
This might just be more exciting than he thought.
"Kiddo?," he responded to the fellow avian, raising an eyebrow in disgust, "You have no idea who you're talking to, do you?" That was it, no more waiting. Jet was ready to take this poser down here and now. A crack of his knuckles, his feet dug into the dirt; he was moments away from charging his opponent when he was cut off by a terrible shriek. "GAHHH! Wh-what the HELL!?," he shouted, though not even he could hear himself, clamping his hands over his own ears.
He'd quickly compose himself, giving his noggin a quick shake to help dull the ringing in his head as tensed himself up one more. "...Right, take two" Whereas his foe kept a reasonable speed, Jet went into a full sprint. He'd stick with what he knew, hitting his foe fast and hard, and starting off with a low stomping kick to the ankle, enough to break his foe's footing should it hit.
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Mar 23, 2012 1:44:34 GMT -5
This Bean was very smooth and calm, trying to think and anticipate what could happen next in a sequence of combat. He noticed Jet's increased speed, and had a feeling of what Jet's strategy would be. As he approached, he was ready to swing a punch without noticing Jet's kick, which made the duck fall over, as the kick landed a hit at his leg, while he was still in mid air from the jog. Because of his placement, he began to tip over, in a direction that would result in a face first plant into the ground. Because of this, he attempts to grab one of Jet arms, to pull him down with him. His motive was to get Jet pinned to the ground from the strength of his fall and his own weight, so that he may start of a barrage of attacks to wear Jet down enough to really start things off. He hopes his arm can reach Jet's and pull his body down fast enough in time, if it even touches Jet at all.
----
[IDK why, but I felt that I wrote this part a little confusing. Is it clear enough?]
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Mar 23, 2012 16:30:01 GMT -5
The hawk had began to twist himself into what he hoped would be a roundabout kick to a disleveled opponent, only to be cut short by a sharp tug on his arm, wrenching free a startled yelp from his beak. With Bean's weight suddenly pulling on him, Jet knew he was going to be brought toppling over, his feet already slipping underneath him. Instead, the sharp-beaked avian reversed his spin to the opposite direction, holding out as he carried the two of them in a frantic backwards run before he simply threw himself to the ground, rolling in midair in hopes to land on top of his foe, both arms reaching out to pin the irritating duck down by his wrists.
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Mar 23, 2012 17:31:08 GMT -5
Bean was a bit surprised, finding his own counter to backfire, now lying on the floor with Jet above him in mid air. Bean only snickered, and flashed a bomb, with a burning fuse. However, Bean didn't feel like blowing up stuff a whole lot than usual, so he was only going to use the bomb as a means of scaring Jet to buy a few seconds to get up. He imitated the more familiar Bean, crudely mocking the original by saying in a cracked, higher pitched voice, "Say hellos to blacky!", holding the bomb, which was, in reality, a dud.
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Mar 23, 2012 22:01:45 GMT -5
Quick to act, Jet had begun to setup his next move as soon as both hit the ground. Still keeping the fellow fowl's wrists held down, he lifted himself up into a handstand, only to see his foe materialize one of his trademark bombs out of thin air. His eyes going wide, the hawk let out a swear underneath his breath. This was the last thing he ever wanted to see, but maybe he could at least do something about it. Carrying through with his attack, the bandit let gravity do its thing and help to thrust his knee hard in the duck's stomach. It was all Jet would risk, however, as he let the recoil of this blow spring him back to his feet, the avian nearly stumbling over himself in a frantic backwards run, hoping this would leave Bean more than winded enough to stun until after the bomb went off.
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Mar 24, 2012 7:51:12 GMT -5
With a knee to gut, Bean let out an audible gasp for air. Happy to see, however, that the hawk was at least off of him. Bean quickly grabbed the Bomb, himself still lying on the floor, grasping his torso in pain with another hand. He was still not going to detonate it, so he casually threw it, with some pain of course from the hit to the gut, just around Jet, where it was lying just two feet away from him, two feet being within the blast range of the bomb; if it could even detonate. Even in pain, this Bean, like every other Bean, had strong accuracy of his throws, and knew that anyone would think two feet would be too close to the bomb for comfort. Hopefully this would shock his opponent into darting away from the bomb and towards Bean himself, where he could swing another blow, wanting to take advantage of the fact that the dud bomb did initially invoke fear in the hawk. As the bomb began to land next to Jet, Bean began to get up, shaking off the still burning pain in his stomach.
"My, what a tummy ache!" He said, once again mocking the real Bean. There was something about this mockery that seemed odd. It was as if he was doing this not to annoy Jet, but to say as though he isn't too fond of the actual Bean either. Like another way of saying, "Know what I mean, right?" Of course, he was beginning to realize Jet probably didn't want an imitator comedy act.
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Mar 24, 2012 9:00:23 GMT -5
Forced to retreat yet again, the hawk took straight to the very arena walls that kept him in, charging straight up the metal barricade. Agile as he was, he couldn't clear the height and was forced to spring himself off, launching himself with a soaring jump far beyond both Bean and his explosives. Rusty steel creaked beneath the avian's feet as he landed in a kneel, his arms drawn back at his sides. "Hah!," he squawked, dusting his hands off casually as he responded with his usual cynical tone, "You need your mommy to kiss it and make you feel better?" Fake or not, he wasn't going to go easy on such an irritating foe. Even if he was all too aware of it. Jet merely prepared himself for another exchange of blows, tauntingly gesturing his rival to try and land a shot on him.
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Mar 24, 2012 21:01:46 GMT -5
Bean loved it. Finally, a match, or even someone possibly better than himself, was here taunting him, complementing each of his own moves with a counter. Although he met some of similar skill, these fighters were hard to come by.
"Nah, my mom died in accident." He replied. Whether that was in any way the truth is debatable. Bean walked over to the bomb, where he himself was two feet away from, forming a line between Jet, himself, and the "dud".
"Oh dear. Fail for me. Or is it?" Bean snickered. The fuse went off again, as Bean turned to Jet, giving an almost sincere smile, as he gently hopped just a foot off the ground. The Bomb went off, propelling Bean right into Jet, only at the cost of some pain, which Bean was, at this point, almost fond of. Now darting at a massive speed, all while giving a quick, "HELLO," Bean was already halfway the distance between him and Jet in less than two seconds. If he were to make it into Jet, the force would most likely not be something for Jet to look forward to. However, if Jet were to dodge him, which he did have a second or three to do, Bean would be saying "HELLO," not to Jet, but to a metal wall at such a speed.
|
|
|
Post by Weirdo94 on Mar 24, 2012 21:54:50 GMT -5
"Heh," the bandit murmured under his breath, "Guess that's what he meant by 'darker'" His foe's black humor aside, the hawk at least had to admit that his foe wasn't as annoying as he expected. Compared to the original, of course, that wasn't saying much. The taunts following, however, made him feel somehwat uneasy. That's when he saw it, the fuse relit once again like an angry firefly in the dark night. Is he...is he really going to?... oh @$!!!
The the sound of a blast rocking the entire arena, he dove to the side, barely missing a collision with a living projectile as he was greeted by a faceful of dirt and scrap on landing. Quickly he'd turn over, his heart pacing rapidly, half-expecting to see the duck simply bounce off the wall like a cheesy cartoon and come flying back at him.
|
|
|
Post by hydroxianchaos on Mar 27, 2012 17:50:06 GMT -5
With a loud crash, piles of scrap metal covered the spot Bean smacked right into, burying him. Within a few seconds, anyone would declare the match over, but suddenly, Bean busted through, wielding a large metal rod from the debris, grinning with maniacal delight. He ran at Jet, dragging the rod, and was apparently going to use it as a weapon. However, just a few feet away from his enemy, Bean jerked the rod to the ground, and instead used it to pole vault and thrust himself right into Jet feet first, while still keeping a hand grasping the rod. If Jet were to dodge, he'd simply attempt to land and swing the rod over to Jet, hoping to give a good strong whack.
|
|