i'm bulletproof, nothing to lose.

[heartlessglitch]

WHO: The sentient codestruct called "Danger" and the world's most stylish leather-clad psychohero ever, Midnighter.
WHERE: A dark alleyway on 2nd Avenue.
WHEN: Monday night.
WARNINGS: Punching, probably. Best punching.
SUMMARY: The Middanger crossover series, Issue #1!
FORMAT: Quicklog.


[ She'd said she would find him, and Danger is nothing if not a robot of her word. The hour doesn't bother her-- it's not as though she sleeps, her systems function just as well in the dark-- and more importantly, her relative lack of references for this new universe put her at a disadvantage she disliked. If this Midnighter was as good as he claimed, the update to her combat programming would be useful.

As she approaches his location, her scanners pick up unusual electrical activity-- something besides the city lights, televisions, and microwaves. Origin: Midnighter's brain. This would prove interesting.

Danger steps into the mouth of the alley, saying by way of greeting: ]

You did not inform me of your artificial modifications.

Comments

[bringerofwar]

[Midnighter glances up at her, sharply, when she arrives. She's not easy to read, but the skillset he gleans from a quick runthrough of all possible results of a little scuffle in the ally reminds him a lot of Angie's.

A little more dangerous, he figures. This robot can probably process just as fast as he can, but the live telephone wires running over their heads would incapacitate her (briefly) if climbed up there and used them right.

He steps slightly out of the shadows, curiosity (more) piqued.]

I recall you saying something about proof being irrelevant.

[heartlessglitch]

[ Her receptors pick up the increased activity in Midnighter's implants-- he's sizing her up the same way she's doing to him. Calculating. While he's noting the electric wires above them, she's taking in his height, his weight, percent muscle mass, computing probable velocities and strike forces.

She takes a few steps closer, her attention unwavering and more steady than any human being's. ]

I am revising my previous assessment of you, Midnighter. [ It's hard to tell with that robotic voice, but she might be curious. ] We have much more in common than I initially presumed.

[bringerofwar]

[Well, the stare is unnerving.

But Midnighter's life is full of nothing but unnerving people, so he lets it roll off his back, and tucks his hands into the big pockets of his jacket. He'll know if she intends to attack, but for now there's no reason to keep posturing.]

You know, usually when I get that it's more of an insult.

[heartlessglitch]

My preliminary scans show that your neural implants are relatively advanced. [ Danger tilts her head slightly. ] Further examination is preferable. However, it's improbable that you will allow me to interface with you.

[ Maybe more unnerving than her stare is the seamless way her parts transform-- with smooth movements that could almost be described as organic. To call her a mere robot would be almost an insult. It takes her a fraction of a second to assemble a high-powered machine gun on her right arm-- and less time to aim at her target. ]

This is the next logical choice.

[ Without hesitating, she opens fire. ]

[bringerofwar]

Oh, for the love of- [Midnighter's hands come back out of his pockets before her arm finishes transforming, and the tonfas slide out of his sleeves even as he bends over backwards to avoid the shots like he thinks he's in the Matrix.

Luckily for him (because he'd have looked really stupid otherwise), he's fast enough to pull it off. His fingers touch the ground and he flips over backwards before the bullets even manage to ricochet off the walls and paved ground behind him, kicking out with his foot on the way to catch the tip of the gun and send the spray of gunfire upwards into the air.

When he lands, he chucks both tonfas at her, one at where she mimicked a neck, and one into what would have been her stomach - both weak points on anyone else - to buy himself enough time to reach into his coat to where he had a little handheld taser strapped against the thick leather fabric.]

[heartlessglitch]

[ He's quick, for a human. It calls for a slight calculation adjustment in her prediction algorithm, a rearrangement of 1s and 0s that occurs even as Midnighter's kick makes solid contact with her weaponized arm. (Her receptors briefly note the sound of windows latching shut nearby. It's the kind of neighborhood where the sound of gunfire doesn't call out any curious observers.)

One tonfa hits the metal of her belly with a clang, ricocheting off and clattering onto the pavement. The second one (calculating: air resistance, acceleration, mass) gets snatched out of the air and smoothly snapped between her two hands, the pieces tossed aside-- all of which takes her 2.3 seconds. But then again, that might have been just long enough. ]