And yes, Vriska is associated with the color of Armmaster’s armor, too.
Tag: i11dp1
“It’s alright,” he said.
“Your new eye doesn’t work. I think I know what’s wrong with it, and I can get you something that will work, I just need time.”
Vriska didn’t get a cybernetic eye along with her robot arm, though another character who lost an arm and an eye (I told you, it’s a thing) did.
…Well. Technically it was probably just a piece of red glass, but who cares about details like that.
“You have better things to be doing.” He coughed and regretted it as pain ripped through his throat with the movement of the muscles.
…fair. I don’t think efficiency is her primary objective here, though.
His stomach felt strange. He started to speak, cleared his throat, then said, “I think I could pull off an eye patch.”
…you know what, I’m not even gonna say it at this point. Here, have a picture instead:
But yeah, Armmaster with an eyepatch actually sounds pretty cool. Yarr!
“I’m sorry about your face.”
He tried to raise his hand, but found it attached to IVs. He had to maneuver it carefully as he lifted it to his face, so as not to tangle the wires.
Maybe Dragon could send him a picture on the laptop, in lieu of being able to hold up a hand mirror in front of him.
Almost seamlessly, his flesh transitioned into a smooth plastic and back to flesh again.
“The wound was pretty bad, so we called in this one guy who makes green fire to burn the rest of your face off. You know, so it’d be symmetrical.”
I suppose plastic is just about the most ironic way they could fix this wound, really, with the wound being a result of Colin’s spiel about not being like Mannequin.
“How?”
“Artificial parts. I supplied your headquarters with a 3D scanner of my design weeks ago. I had them make the parts I specified.
…
When Vriska lost her arm and eye, she had the former replaced by a robotic one. Colin doesn’t seem to have had that done, or at least he hasn’t noticed it if they decided to do that too while they had him on there, but these artificial parts elsewhere in his body still kinda count towards his Vriska parallels.
The on-site doctors kept you alive long enough for the scanner to make the necessary components, and they followed my instructions in installing them.”
Nice work!
“Good girl,” he told her, with genuine affection.
Heh.
(But yeah, careful with the pet-like address. She may be virtual, but she’s not your Tamagotchi.)
“Your heart stopped nine times on the operating table,” Dragon said, “A lesser man wouldn’t have made it.”
Wow. DETERMINATION.
Turns out Armmaster is both Vriska and Frisk.
■
Her voice was the first thing he heard when he woke. “Welcome back.”
I suppose the reinforcements saved him?
“I survived,” his voice rasped. He’d had a tracheotomy.
Tracheotomy… *looks up*
Oh right, that procedure, where they basically make you a second breathing hole. I think I’ve looked that up before, though I don’t remember if it was for the blog.
The only explanation for his throat being this sore would be having a tube rammed down it. Looking around, he saw a laptop propped up beside him, and a get well card from Miss Militia. She must have put the laptop there when she left the card.
That’s nice of her. Now Army can go surfing the web while he recuperates, or work on some of his projects.
Mannequin wrenched his hand back, as if to make it clear that he had let him get that close, that Colin had never really stood a chance. Colin was pulled to one side, and he didn’t have the strength in his midsection to keep from falling over.
It seems like Colin’s getting more ragdoll-y himself.
His knife clattered from his grip as he fell to the floor.
The villain picked up the knife, examined it, then pressed the button to test it.
Uh oh.
You may have given him some ideas, Colin.
The last thing Colin saw before darkness consumed his vision was the bastard using the weapon on the wall beside the window, dust billowing where it made contact.
Oh, okay.
Hey, I told you that was a security threat! For this exact reason!
In the last seconds of consciousness, he heard Dragon’s voice, as if from a far away place. “No! No, no no! Colin! Stay awake! I need you!”
Awake? He’s barely staying alive right now. Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, staying alive, staying alive.
No!
He couldn’t say where, but he found some reserve of strength. The knife inched closer. Hairs away. He could see the material of the casing smoke just beneath Mannequin’s ‘eye’, a dark patch revealing itself beneath.
Huh. Armmaster had more Determination than I thought.
…seriously, this reserve of strength plays into my Undertale references perfectly.
Mannequin’s head fell, tipping over backwards to strike the ground, dangling from the chain, out of reach of the blade.
“Okay yeah he’s getting a bit too close now, let’s get this head outta the way.”
Still holding Colin’s wrist, the headless villain stood straight.
He was toying with me.
I suppose that’s also an appropriate personality trait for someone who looks so much like a giant featureless action figure.
A blade stuck out of Mannequin’s upper arm, near the elbow joint. The upper arm fired like a small rocket to stick in the wall, and for a second, there was slack in the chain.
Knives and then rockets? This Mad Dummy is doing things backwards.
Colin thrust the knife forward, came within inches of making contact with Mannequin’s chest before the chain reeled in and the metal links went rigid.
You tried.
The chain started to gradually reel in, and Mannequin started pulling his hand backward, toward the wall where the section of arm had stuck.
Ohh, so that’s why he did that. It’s acting like a winch.
Then, as if to taunt Colin, Mannequin dropped to a crouch, moved his face less than an inch from the blur that marked the edge of the blade’s effect.
Pfft.
AU where he accidentally gets a little too close. Whoops!
He wouldn’t be able to distract the lunatic with words while he acted. He could only pray.
Good luck, I guess. I don’t think you’ll be able to kill him, but I guess you might be able to severely hamper him.
Don’t do it for me, God. I probably don’t deserve the chance. Do it for every soul this motherfucker would kill from here on out if I fail.
I guess he does care on some level. Good to know. 🙂
He thrust out the knife, swept it towards his opponent’s chest cavity. His hand stopped.
Hm?
With his vision in his good eye failing him, it took him a second to see why. Mannequin’s hand gripped his wrist.
Ah.
He pushed, as if he could beat this monster in strength. By some miracle, his hand moved a fraction closer to his enemy’s chest. He redoubled his efforts, and it moved still closer.
To beat this Mad Dummy, you gotta have DETERMINATION!
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