The Freedom Games

[Weirdo94]

Raising an arm to shield himself as the rubble fell, Jet watched the scene unfold before his eyes with a grim gaze. His silence seemed to almost paint a picture of worry, though the avian himself would never admit it. Cautiously, he rose to his feet, smoke clearing but still no sign of a certain annoying duck, just a mountain of twisted steel. "What a way to go out," he muttered darkly under his breath, clearly disappointed at the anticlimactic end this fight seemed to take.

One could see a menacing grin creep up the hawk's beak, witnessing his opponent cheat death and relighting the fight with anticipation, his fists clenching as he stood. Again he'd watch Bean's movements, expecting nothing more than a simple swipe at him. Jet leapt back into a crouch, his arm reeled and ready for a fierce punch to counterattack, only to be caught off-guard when his foe raised the makeshift weapon only to propel himself into a flying dropkick, nailing the surly avian square in the chest. He was sent back, a pained gasp escaping from his beak. The bandit stumbled, falling onto his rear as he braced a single hand against the ground behind him, unable to recover fast enough should the duck take another shot at him.

[hydroxianchaos]

"I go out with bang, not a fire cracker." The duck said through the kick, even a little ticked off for anyone thinking that'd be the end of him.

Bean landed from his kick, shaking a little due to just how strong it was. With only seconds to spare, Bean pulled the pole up again, and dashed over to Jet, raising it up while grunting and showing signs of slight strain, in preparation for a quick smooth swing. Bean wasn't a very buff duck, so he wasn't always the type to be swinging such a thing around. However, oppritunity was knocking at his door, and he was happy to respond to it with a smack to the face. However, he was struggling just a bit before raising, giving Jet two precious seconds to at least roll away.

[Weirdo94]

The hawk was still hurting, still trying to recapture the wind that had just been knocked out of him. His nerves begged for just a moment's rest to let his lungs recoop, though he knew he had little time. Shaking off the slight soreness in his chest, he saw his foe struggle to follow through. Instead of dodging, however, Jet twisted his body to the side, using a single hand to keep him balanced just long enough to send a boot flying at the duck's cheek as he shouted, "Too bad you're a dud!" Should this hit, the bandit would manage to catch himself into a full handstand, springing from his hands in order to flip onto his feet, where he would continue to taunt his rival. "So how about I just put you out and end this already!?"

[hydroxianchaos]

And a smack to the cheek it was for Bean, as he tripped over upon impact, letting go of the pole in mid air. After hitting the floor, the pole fell on Bean right across the chest. He had few options left, since his strength was severely decreasing. With a near silent groan, Bean sprang up and stumbled about, now quite weak, despite the persevereance he's been showing.

"Put me out all you want, silly boy, I'll always relight." Bean said, now really feeling the heat of the battle. Since he knows what his opponent is capable of, he can start to push his own limits. Bean went into a stance. He spread his arms and opened his palms. Two bombs materialized, one in each. He began to juggle, as more bombs seemed to just spring up from thin air, until he was successfully passing seven up into the air and into his hands in a cycle. He turned his body to the side while juggling, looking right in Jet's eyes. One by one the bombs lit.

"....Heh."

The Duck chuckled and smiled sincerely. And when such a fellow does that, it isn't a good thing. He suddenly started throwing each bomb towards Jet's feet, closer and closer, like a warning. For every bomb that hit the ground and exploded upon impact, a new one simply sprung up into the juggle. Their explosions weren't nearly as large as the first one he deployed earlier, but their small three foot wide blasts packed a fiery blaze, which could lead to strong burns. With each bomb hitting the ground closer and closer to Jet, an intentional warning on Bean's part, the Duck wasn't kidding around as much now, despite his almost completely sane smile on his face. Bean didn't necessarily have unlimited ammo, but he had enough to keep at this for a minute or two. With his arms occupied, however, Bean can only attack by throwing these for now, which means by any other means he is defenseless against anything thrown at him, other than having to slowly walk out of the way, which is difficult when you're juggling lit explosives.

[Weirdo94]

With his opponent on the ground again, Jet was starting to get cocky. He practically had this fight in the bag, or so he felt, so why not stop, take the time to brush some of dust from his chest, and gesture to the croud to make a little noise? He'd turn back to his foe as soon as the little blaster was up, returning to a fighting posture, his shoulder facing the duck with both arms raised to stomach level, fists open. "Like I said...you have no idea who you're talking to!," the bandit squawked with self-importance ringing in his voice, his eyes soon narrowing as a coy grin arose on his beak and he continued grimly, "All these eyes here, they're gonna watch you get knocked you around 'till you can't even stand...and I'm gonna enjoy every...second...of it"

Surprisingly, this wouldn't fade as a grand display of explosives appeared before his very eyes. Was he afraid? Certainly. The hawk seemed to actually enjoy this fear, though. The pounding of his heart inside his chest, the shivers tingling through the roots of his feathers, teh light tremble in his hands, it was all part of the thrill, part of the excitement. The very fact that he could be moments away from death excited him to no end, and it would as long as he still felt even a strand of control over this battle.

The bombs came, but the hawk wouldn't budge. Each blast inching closer and closer, he anticipated his move, waiting until the flames were practically licking at his boots. Finally, the coy fowl threw himself forward, diving over one of the explosions to land in a roll underneath a second bomb. Soon, the hawk found himself in a mad dash, sprinting straight towards his foe with reckless abandon. It was no longer about dodging Bean's madcap explosives, but simply outrunning them, the bandit going into one last slide, skidding feet-forward against the steel like a batter trying to make home, only to kick himself upright at the last moment into a leaping uppercut, straight to his adversary's jaw.

[hydroxianchaos]

Bean saw Jet's movements through the bombs and each blast that came with them. With each bomb that he out ran, Bean got a stronger chill down his spine. It was almost unreal for him. This was finally it, someone who was going to defeat him with skill, not a technicality or cheap shot. In a blinding flash, Bean already found himself to be lifted off the ground by the hawk, as the bombs he was juggling were all in mid air just above him, now beginning to fall on the duck as he met the ground on his back. In less than a second, one will explode, setting off the others in unison.

Bean smiled. Just before impact, he managed to utter,

"Good job, kiddo--"

And with that, each explosion hit him in succession. He was knocked into the ground hard, with burns and scrapes scattered across his body.

Suddenly, the entire crowd and Cubot shifted their gaze not to Bean or Jet, but Orbot. He looks down, to both Jet and the unconscious Bean. Orbot kept his usual stoic expression, implying he wasn't quite surprised, or even greatly impressed by the little battle. However, the crowd showed signs on some hype, so he was satisfied. He points his arm in Jet's direction, raising it high. Everyone simply claps, with a few cheers. A medical droid came in, and checked for breathing. It slowly nodded, giving a mechanical thumbs up to the crowd. It placed Bean into a pod, hauling him away whole. Finally, the overseer spoke.

Orbot's voice boomed across the arena, "Well done, Sir. I applaud your agility. I present two options." he started, with that ever so servile yet down-looking tone.

"Either wait for the next match, or leave now, with quite the sum." He continued, snapping his fingers. A carrier ship flew by, as a sack of rings, jewelry, and all sort of luxuries the size of a car plopped onto the arena, with a few spilling out.

"If you so choose to stay, so be it. Either return to your cell, or feel free to go sight seeing. Simply remember to return when you hear an announcement on the PA. If you wish to leave, we'll have somebody drag that sack over to whatever place you dwell. Your decision?" Orbot asked, as the entire crowd began looking to Jet now.

[Weirdo94]

Jet watched from safety as his foe's own attack was turned against him in a relentless barrage. He almost seemed disappointed to see it end so soon, but what was he going to do? Ask Orbot to restart the fight? Besides, he had the feeling that wasn't the last he'd seen from this particular iteration of the duck.

"Well...," the hawk began to respond coyly, ever the braggart, "It would be suuuch a shame if all my loving fans didn't get to see me show what I can really do! You know, against someone who's actually worth my time?" He'd pause to brush off his shoulder, glancing around the stands to shoot a wink and a toothy grin to the crowd, soon returning his sights to the automation in charge. "Go ahead and call me when you get another sucker lined up for me, Cue-ball... Just make sure this one's actually, you know, good"

Regardless of if this was met with cheers or boos (though Jet would admit he'd prefer the latter), the avian began walking for the exit with a certain stride in his step, soon picking up into a run from which he boarded his Type-J. It was almost painful to leave so much valuables behind, but he reminded himself the second win would be just as easy as he rocketed off before he could change his mind, leaving behind a brilliant streak of light in his wake.

For now, however, the lone hawk merely wanted to kick back an enjoy a night on the town, rushing through block after block of mechanical architecture in search of a good pub, preferably one with a chatty bartender.

[hydroxianchaos]

There were many businesses around the area, from stands, to malls, all run by robots. Nearby was one particular place with a sign, stating "Coffee and Cream", a moderately well known place for friends and strangers the same to gather, relax, talk, or do business. On an evening like this, however, it wasn't bustling, with just a few Robians sedating themselves with processor depressors, with a single mobian lying in a corner, unconscious from a bit too many drinks. Running the little coffee shop/bar hybrid was an automation based off of Cream the rabbit, though seemingly much older, judging from personality and appearance. She's a little powered down from such a day, and would like to see somebody that'd be a sight for burnt optics, other than the depressing usuals that normally linger on evenings like these.

[Weirdo94]

Arriving just as he was, the avian did little to hide how rough he looked. He was actually rather proud of the occasional cut and bruise, carrying a swagger in his step that said without words just what he thought of himself. Looking around, it wouldn't take long to spot the barkeep, whos appearance was certainly of some surprise to the hawk. Jeez, she doesn't look like the type to be serving hard liquor. He wasn't here for drinks, however. No, the Babylonian had a far more useful service in mind; information. Approaching the bar, he'd decide to butter up what few patrons there were, laying out a small pile of rings on the table as he spoke "Next round's on me" Giving time to let the group enjoy their little presents, he opened his beak again, finally cutting to the point. "Now that that's settled, I'm looking for information. Gossip, rumors...pretty much anything that can land me a quick buck" Jet paused, glancing away for a moment before adding, "And a little dirt on these 'Freedom Games' couldn't hurt"

[hydroxianchaos]

Upon noticing Jet, this Cream simply looked back to the counter, continuing to wax it. A few Robians cheered upon hearing Jet's offer with distorted shouts. The depressors were really getting to them. The mechanical rabbit looked up to Jet as he explained. Only upon the mention of gossip and the like, did she suddenly seem to wake up a bit. She was in the mood for a chat, and after seeing the bruises and scrapes on this fellow, she realized this was the same Jet the Hawk she was watching on the broadcast of the games. She puts the wash cloth aside.

"Well, well. Seems like someone's new here. If it's rumors and info you want, I'll be happy to inform, Mr. Jet. Let me get right to it." Her voice wasn't nearly as high pitched as anyone would suspect at first glance. While she was polite like the one she was modeled after, she surprisingly had a much deeper voice, and something of a slight New Yorker accent. Through the slight fizzes of her metallic echo, there lies someone who seemed to like talking of such things.

"Let me ask you something. Ever notice how Sir Robotnik wasn't at the games?" She began, jumping right into the subject. A few of the other machines, sedated as ever, made a long drone of a hush to her as she spoke, while some laughed to themselves, falling over.

"Think of it, Mister Hawk. For such an event, the doctor would be there on a throne with a crown," she went on. "There were posters everywhere. Advertisements. All saying things like, 'You work for me' and 'A good citizen obeys.' Where are they now? You've seen the new propaganda. Hell, the old slogan was, 'Robotnik, second to none,' but now its, 'For the Empire, the Machina, and the cause.' There weren't businesses before. Only work camps. Just to make more robots and statues." She continued, almost rambling. Upon the recital of the new "slogan", many in the bar held their hands and appendages to their chest, drunkly singing and crying out some sort of fanfare resembling an anthem.

"No need to get patriotic, people. Anyway, I don't want to say it outright, but I'll say this. The egg cracked. People don't even act like this is Sir Robotnik's place anymore. We just call it the Empire now. It isn't official, yes, but that Eggmanland is as good as gone."

"May I also say, sir, I loved your little preformance there. I'd be your fan if I wasn't already for Johnny." She commented on Jet's earlier fight with Bean, motioning towards a television set showing a replay of latter sections of the quarrel. As much as she'd like to tell him everything, this wasn't the safest way with a few people lingering about, so she had to attempt changing the subject. While no one was actually listening in, the mention of such talk was a little taboo. But, if Jet was willing to hear, regardless of consequences, she'd go right ahead and spill it all.

"Also, you want anything?"