At this point, Jacob has retreated to a respectful distance to observe events.
IC: Runaâs blow and Toddâs anti-tank rifle strike at near similar places. That, combined with Khanâs tinkering-
-seem too much. The robot collapses like a sack of bricks, falling to the ground limply and moving no more.
Runa stumbles back from the rifle shot almost hitting his hand. âWatch it.â He growls at Todd. He then studies the heap of metal lying on the ground.
âDid that head just speak?â The man asked.
Khan withdraws his sand, leaving the wreckage clear for Runa to examine. âBe fast, there are more of them.â
Runa nods. âGo after them, Iâll catch up. Iâm taking this to my lab for further study.â He says as he attempts to pick up the machine.
As if in response, Switchblade shut his eyes again.
âSo itâs dead or whatever?â
IC: The machine, from examination, looks to be an advanced combat android. Judging from its decrepit state, it was heavily damaged even before it escaped the portal, and was thus relatively easy to defeat.
It does indeed, appear dead.
The man grabbed Scrapper out of Manpowerâs hand,âIs this one of your silly toys, leon?â He asked, eying the machine.
Switchbladeâs eyes slowly opened back up. âWhy?â He hissed. âYou need someone to sing âlondon bridge is falling downâ to ya?â
âThatâs switchblade, heâs, uh, an associate of mine.â Manpower replied.
âHe ainât much of an associate, now is he?â Said the other man.
âComplications have limited my usefulness.â He mused, looking over the individual who was holding his head. âYou give me a few yearâs supply of razor blades and weâll discuss my usefulness in greater detail.â
âYou know, I kinda like this guy, sâgot moxie. I respect that.â The individual replied.
Switchblade didnât respond. He was suddenly aware of the fact that he couldnât see Manpower from this angle, and aside from maybe biting the fellow, he had no means of self-defense.
âKnives, this is my, Cousin, Alexandre Boulet.â
The man in question looked similar to Manpower himself, the differences being both taller and lankier, with a gaunt face, and pale skin tone.
âIâd bow if I had legs. Or a body.â
OOC: kill me
âYou get much trouble with girls?â
OOC: Autocorrect has failed me once against.
IC: âI think I have a better chance than you at the moment.â
âFair enough.â
âRight. Good. Uhh. Are we going, then?â