Instance 1 (Jean, Amber)

“What the hell!?” The girl yelled as Jean placed two rounds in her proxy. One had gone wide and hit the forearm, but didn’t do enough damage to immobilize it, and the other had landed squarely on the Baselard. She aimed the gun at Jean, but no bullets came out. She began to squirm and curse as Jean’s proxy lifted her own, ineffectually trying to nick him with her dagger. “Don’t you dare. Put me down right now, you overbearing a******! I’ll cut you!”

The man paid her no heed, and as he dragged her limp-limbed proxy across the rocky field, her protests eventually ceased. He passed several decent hiding places along the way, but none of them were quite sufficient. Eventually, though, he found one that was almost perfect. There was a hole in a stone wall that had a sharp bend in it, the entrance largely obscured by rocks. If a proxy were to hide in here, nobody would be able to spot it without coming dangerously close. It was the best protection one could hope for under the circumstances. Moreover, Jean couldn’t see or hear any traces of proxies nearby.

***

Amber waited hidden in the brush for several uneventful minutes with nothing happening. She eventually fell into the rhythm of the simulated forest, memorizing the looping bird songs, the repetitive swaying of the trees, and the clockwork gusts of wind. Soon, she was able to pick out even the smallest irregularities, the routine occasionally punctuated by the sounds of elimination alerts and distant gunfire. For a long time, nothing noteworthy happened, but eventually the young woman hit the jackpot.

Four proxies, appearing to have formed an alliance, were walking down the riverbank, each alert and watching vigilantly for threats. None of them had spotted her yet, but they were still out of her range. Before she could decide on a course of action, however, shots rang out from nearby. One of the proxies by the river collapsed immediately and disappeared, the other three immediately scattering and taking cover. Amber could only see one of them now.

“Nice shot.” A voice came over Amber’s communicator. Given that the single member of the group she could still see was looking around frantically, it was a fair bet they hadn’t spotted her or their attacker yet. As such, they were likely broadcasting their communications to all nearby proxies, not her specifically. “It looks like we’re short a teammate now. Cease fire immediately and we’ll let you join us. You’ll have a much better chance of being among the final four if you have some help. Don’t you agree?”

All was quiet for a moment. Then, a single gunshot. One of the proxies that had ducked behind a tree fell over and then disappeared.

“There, problem solved.” The voice continued. “Now you and your partner can join us. Are you in?”

A little ways from her current position, Amber saw the attacker stand up and press their shoulder against a tree.

***

Penelope and the silent proxy still hadn’t moved, and only one more person had walked by since the last time either of them talked. In the meantime, the mystery pilot had been testing the proxy’s parameters. They’d already learned several things. The grenades were secured to their waists by magnets, and each machine only had space to hold six of them. Moreover, the magnets on their waists and arms could be activated or deactivated at will, and it was even possible to moderate their strength to some extent.

Suddenly, Penelope’s companion stood up, motioning for her to do the same with a wave of its stub. She complied, and the pair began stealthily making their way north through the forest.


29 contestants remain.

__________
Instance 2 (Sven, Gideon, Adrian)

“You’re welcome, I suppose.” With a sigh, the proxy Sven had been talking to stepped out from behind its tree altogether. “Well, I suppose we’re past the point of fighting. Wanna team up?” He asked.

***

The proxy rolled to a stop directly on top of the grenade, its right arm dangling by no more than a few wires. Gideon ducked as he waited for the explosion, but the grenade never went off. Instead, their attacker bolted around the corner at high speed, stepping over Hopscotch’s broken body. Its Longsword was already trained on Gideon’s proxy, and the pilot wasted no time in making their intentions clear.

“If you so much as lift finger, I open fire. Disengage the magnets on your grenade holster immediately.”


31 contestants remain.

Well, Amber thought This was an interesting turn of events.
Suddenly one of the group of proxies exited the treeline to her right, well within range of her rifle. Not one to pass up an opportunity, she quickly sighted on the enemy proxies chest and took a deep breath. Then she realized the futility of holding her breath.
These things dont breath so no need to worry about sight wobble. She chided herself.
Then ever so slowly she squeezed the trigger, or at least imagined squeezing the trigger, but the effect was the same. Three bullets left the muzzle of her gun and flew straight towards her target.

...

Sven walked over to the entirely exposed proxy. "Yeah I guess. Name's Sven. I am the eyescar guy if you need a visual." Sven stuck out his left stub briefly before putting it back. "Right. I don't think that would work at all. Got any intel? Like a Core i7 or something?"

...

"Ok I'm bad at puns."

Instance 2 (Sven, Gideon, Adrian) – Dirtbag NPC post.

He watched the lone proxy walk into the clearing with a cautious gait. At every sound, the machine snapped to attention with its gun fixated on a precise location. It was almost too easy. Still, he waited until the right moment. He had no intention to pick proxies off one by one, no, he would take them out in scores. The observing higher powers would recognize him as supreme contender, and he would be the last one standing.

There! The moment had arrived. The snare he had set up had snagged the foot of the proxy. Of course it would not hold the machine; he did not need it to. He only needed to momentarily distract it. He loosed a series of bullets into the air over the clearing. Immediately alerting the other proxies in the vicinity of their location. As expected, he could hear the mechanical movements of approaching proxies, and within seconds three different proxies joined the first which had been momentarily distracted.

At once, a firefight broke out as they each tried to defeat the other. It was in this sudden bout of chaos that the hunter casually tossed a concussion grenade into the clearing. Before they could take note of it however, he fired a shot from his longsword. The proxies turned to face where the bullet had been fired, but it was already too late; the grenade exploded in the midst of their fighting.

Chuckling to himself in his console, he slipped away from the scene, knowing that he had drawn more flies toward his web.

27 Contestants remain.

The loud and distinctive metallic clang of a magnet planting itself to an object sounded through the air. Jean had just finished carefully lowering the damaged proxy into its newly found hiding place and, force of habit, had aimed to wipe his brow after the nonexistant physical exertion. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten to dial down the power on his arm stubs after lugging around an entire Grean Bean's worth of weight, and his left "hand" now had a death grip on his face. Looking around to make sure no one was around to laugh at his mishap, he slapped himself for his stupidity.

...


Great.


A few seconds of mental fiddling with the magnetism controls liberated Jean's arms, and he conducted a final, thorough search of his immediate surroundings. Satisfied with the lack of scraped rocks or other signs of proxies passing through, he sat down on the nearest rock and began thinking. He had with himself three grenades, a fully functioning proxy and a hostage of sorts. The damaged proxy's pilot had told him that the grenades wouldn't explode on being shot, but he wasn't inclined to believe her. Unless she had been involved in their creation or had done extensive study outside of the application process, there wasn't any way she knew more about them than he did: She had two grenades on her person when Jean had met her and neither had dents or bullet marks, which meant she hadn't tested it out on her own. She wouldn't have had time to encounter another proxy before her duel with the one she destroyed, so she couldn't have have tested it with someone else's grenades either. Furthermore, Jean found it extremely unlikely that someone involved in the designing of Indcandescent's technology would be forced to complete the application themselves, unless... wait. Perhaps not all of the applicants were truly applying? It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that those labcoats had planted controls into the process. It would explain both the pilot's knowledge of grenade mechanics and her lack of willingness to be dragged to safety: if she was already part of Incandescent Labs, she had little reason to want to complete the application. A bizzare theory perhaps, but it explained everything that Jean had witnessed so far.

Having nothing to lose, the man walked towards the stowed proxy and asked the pilot how much she knew about the concussion grenades.

Instance 1 (Jean, Amber)

“Oh, you’re still here. Wonderful.” The girl grumbled in response to Jean’s query. She seemed oblivious to her plight, or at least enough so to keep being smarmy. “If I’m going to be perfectly honest, I don’t know much about the grenades at all. Since this is a simulation, what I said about them not exploding from being shot could be completely false depending on whether the programmers did their homework..” She yawned. “Hey, I know! Why don’t you test it out?”

***

The proxy fell as Amber’s shots pierced the air. Its body fizzled and disappeared before it had even hit the ground. The other shooter dove back to the ground, now aware of her presence.

“Damn it!” The leader of the recently disposed team broadcasted through his communicator. He chucked both of his grenades in quick succession in the general direction of his attackers, then made a break for the river. One explosive headed toward the mystery marksman, the other landing near enough Amber to cause considerable damage if she stayed still. If she moved, her target would get away, but if she tried to fire at him, she risked being caught in the blast.


26 contestants remain.

__________
Instance 2 (Sven, Gideon, Adrian)

“Hah…” The proxy chuckled hollowly at Sven’s wordplay. “Sorry, I’ve got nothing. We should probably decide on a course of ac-“

A distant explosion disturbed the relative peace of the virtual forest, bringing with it four simultaneous elimination alerts. The proxy’s posture stiffened noticeably.

“That sounds like it came from the center of the arena. There was a large clearing there if I remember. Avoiding that area would be wise. Where do you think we should go?”

***

“Hey kid, I could use a hand.” Adrian looked around as he heard his ally’s voice.

“Sure, I can help, I guess. Um, where are you?” A sudden burst of gunfire came from nearby. “Oh.”

“Yeah, 'oh'. I’m pinned down over here. Think you’re up for it?”

“Definitely. I’ll be right there. I can almost stand up without falling over now.” The boy smiled to himself, feeling a bit strange saying something like that.

“Right. That’s… lovely. Please hurry.” She said, her voice sounding slightly more desperate.

Without hesitation, Adrian began waddling his proxy toward the source of the gunshots. When he arrived, he found himself behind two allied proxies who were taking turns shooting at large rock. The boy took careful aim with his Longsword, hoping to take them off guard. However, the instant he fired, he lost balance completely and fell over. The enemies whirled around quickly in response to the noise and fired on instinct. Fortunately, not having expected their assailant to be on the ground, they missed the first few shots. They quickly adjusted their aim and prepared to fire again.

Before they could shoot, though, a small round object came sailing over the rock they’d been firing at. It landed between them with a clink and then exploded, obliterating them in an instant. Saying a silent ‘thank you’, Adrian returned to his feet and moved to the other side of the rock to find his partner sitting on the ground with her back against it. Both of her proxy’s legs had sustained heavy damage.

“Ah. It, uh... It looks like-“ Adrain started.

“Don’t you dare.”

“It loo-“

“Don’t. The irony of this situation is not lost on me, small boychild.”


25 contestants remain.

Dammit!!! Amber screamed in her head as she rolled down the hill out of range of the grenade. She heard the boom behind her and felt pieces of the digital ground bounce of her proxy's "skin". As soon as she reached the bottom of the hill she lunged towards the jungle to her right, not but a few meters from where her last victim had been. she then dove behind a tree putting cover between her and the other sniper.

"Hey!" She said, linking her comm with the sniper,"That guy was kind of a jerk and you're obviously a pretty good shot. Why don't we work together to win this simulation?"

An explosion rocked the entire field. "Holy crap!", Sven exclaimed after four notifications popped up on screen.

“That sounds like it came from the center of the arena," his partner replied, "There was a large clearing there if I remember. Avoiding that area would be wise. Where do you think we should go?”

"Not there, obviously. The notifications popped up like fresh toast. Must've been a massacre." Sven pointed toward the north. "But, if we can capture the river we have good control over the entire field. Or at least that's how survival works... I play a lot of survival games." His partner behind him, Sven walked towards the north end of the river.

"And now I'm craving toast damnit."

Jean immediately regretted his decision to ask for information. He'd gotten an abundant dose of attitude on the way to his current location and he really wasn't in the mood for any more, especially not from the annoyingly headstrong headache of a hostage he'd been stuck with. Aggravations and alliterations aside, the damaged proxy's pilot wasn't wrong: Jean had three grenades, so he could afford to waste one in exchange for valuable strategic intel.

After having walked about 10 meters, the mechanic took one of his captive's grenades and placed it in a crevasse under a large boulder. He moved about 20 steps backwards, took aim with his longsword and fired at the explosive device.

A fake. A blasted fake. Whoever was at the other end of the barrel aimed squarely at Gideon’s face had a tactician’s head on their shoulders, that much was a given. What was not as clear-cut was what this person would do if Gideon chose to comply with their request. There was no guarantee that he would survive five seconds past the moment the grenades exchanged hands. Then again, he did not have much choice in the matter. If the pilot holding him hostage had ill intentions, then he was dead anyway. There was nothing for it. After staring down his captor for a brief moment, Gideon disengaged the magnetic holsters that held his grenades. The pair dropped to the rocks with a dull clang.

Though he was not fond of begging for mercy, the drummer knew how to cut a deal. At this point, it was one of two ways in which he could remain in this competition. The other was to attack the opposing proxy as it bent down to pick up the now-loose grenades. Had there not been any other enemies around, Gideon likely would have elected to go this route. However, seeing as there was another proxy waiting a short distance away on the other side of the boulder behind which he now lay, the mohawked young man opted for diplomacy.

“Now, wait,” he said, staying still so as not to aggravate the man who was still aiming at him. “Before you pick those up. There is another proxy across from us on the other side of this open space. He’s hiding behind an outcropping. If he hears us fighting, he might sneak up and take both of us out.” Without pausing, lest his questionable logic be dissected, he continued with his proposal. “But if we work together, we can easily nab him. We’ll take him from either side and he won’t have anywhere to run.”

“Oh, and hopscotch here can help too,” he added with a chuckle, referring to the damaged proxy that he had put between himself and the explosion that never came. It had just occurred to Gideon that it still had an active pilote, one who was likely none too pleased about being used as a meatshield. That might have made things awkward.

Instance 1 (Jean, Amber)

Jean’s bullet plinked harmlessly off of the explosive, leaving a small dent but no further damage. Hearing the shot, the girl called out. “Maybe you have to hit a specific part of it? You should give it another shot!” She seemed very intent on making him waste a grenade. Before Jean could set up to try again, however, he heard at least two sets of footsteps approaching from inland.

***

“You’re not bad yourself.” The shooter replied nonchalantly. “Sure, why not? I bet if we went and set up near the clearing, we’d be able to score some pretty easy kills.” She said.


23 contestants remain.

__________
Instance 2 (Sven, Gideon, Adrian)

Sven and his new partner headed north, cutting through the forest to reach the river as quickly as possible while avoiding the clearing. Along the way, a proxy approached them from the direction of the inner tree line, but it didn’t attack.

“Heeey, I’m going to join you guys, alright?” She proclaimed matter-of-factly. “Wherever you’re going, let’s go! No point in hanging around here. Heh heh.” She wandered ahead before they responded, seeming bothered by something.

***

“Like hell I’m gonna help. You jerks can bite it!” Hopscotch reached to activate one of his grenades. Without taking its eye or its Longsword off of Gideon, the assailant aimed downward and put three Baselard rounds into the battered proxy’s head.

“I believe that you are confused. The direction you indicated is where I came from. Moreover, your attempts to manipulate me are not appreciated. I am not in the habit of dispatching helpless opponents, but it would be in your best interest not to antagonize me. Turn around.” The participant spoke in a cold, calculated manner.

With little choice in the matter, Gideon complied. The enemy immediately approached, grabbing his proxy’s one arms at a time, and used its dagger to remove their magnet gates. Without them, Gideon would be unable to alter the strength of his magnets; they would always be at 100% power from now on. Next, the proxy pulled a grenade from his hip, armed it, and placed it between Gideon’s magnets. His arms were now secured to the grenade behind him, and were then pressed to his back as well for good measure. As the attacker reached down to pick up the extra grenades, he spoke again.

“I’ve removed the parts that allow you to regulate the strength of your magnets. If your arms come apart, the grenade will become active, and you will not be able to drop it. Don’t bother trying to use your hip magnets to pull it off, either. The ones on your arms are more powerful. Any other method of removing it will take longer than grenade’s fuse will permit. Now, we will head toward the point where I started, to the left. That’s clockwise. Got it?” He didn’t wait for a reply, prodding Gideon’s proxy with the barrel of his gun. “Move.”

***

Adrian had dragged his partner back to the cubby he had previously been hiding in. They had decided to switch roles, and now the boy would be the one acting as bait while the woman attacked from cover. However, it was slow going. By this point, most of the proxies in the area had either been eliminated or moved on.


21 contestants remain.

As this new proxy wandered in the direction Sven and his partner were going, Sven armed his Longsword and fired a single shot into the back of the proxy's head. A notification popped up.

"I don't take stereotypical bossy women lightly." Sven's partner looked at him and from the body language it seemed like his jaw dropped. "What? I don't."

"Nah I get it," his partner said, almost forcing it.

The two made their way over to the now befallen proxy. Sven hoisted it onto his shoulders. "We should move a tad quicker than we were moving before. Nevertheless when we get to the top of the river I have a use for this." Sven took the ammunition off. "Take these. We'll need them."

A few meters into the trek Sven inquired to his partner:

"I apologize. I haven't even asked your name yet."

Now this. This was a fine mess. It reminded Gideon of the occasion on which he had had to use paint brushes as drumsticks when Soaktorch went on tour and managed to lose all of their luggage… while travelling in a bus. Though his present situation did not allow him time for reminiscing beyond a brief chuckle, that experience had taught him valuable lessons in the priceless skill of improvisation. No matter the situation, he had discovered, there was more often than not an out of some sort. Provided, of course, that one were willing to enter into a treacherous dance with the ludicrous all the while courting the insane. Such was the price of situational brilliance. Solutions to problems like these required a peculiar balance of delicacy and foolhardiness, qualities that, while either too indirect or too reckless to be of much use on their own, could be leveraged together under the guidance of a cool head. And though he had now been deprived of a significant portion of the functionality of his robotic body, Gideon’s thought process remained an unassailable asset. Granted, judging by how he had thus far been outsmarted by the opponent that he now faced, he was still very much at a disadvantage. Still, it was the one weapon at his disposal, and it would have to do.

The fact that his assailant had kept him alive rather than finish him outright was worrisome in its own right. It was evidently not out of some misplaced sense of altruism, as the mystery man had had no qualms about dispatching Hopscotch. No, Gideon was to be used as a tool, and he had a hunch as to what his exact purpose would be. Hopscotch had reached to activate a grenade before being shot, and while his arms were bound, Gideon had remarked that the explosives had disappeared along with their eliminated proxy. It was a logical step to conclude that Gideon himself was only alive so that the pilot of the mecha pointing a gun at his back could make use of his grenades. This was especially likely considering the fact that his captor has seen fit to throw a fake beforehand, the underhanded tactic that he plunged Gideon into this mess in the first place. Evidently, here was a man conscious about conserving resources, and he likely saw his captive as just that. If he were to elevate himself to anything more than an accessory to the proxy standing behind him, Gideon would have to do something drastic in order to change the status quo.

It was a gamble. But with his magnets apparently locked at 100% power, it had been the first idea that came to mind. If he were to pull it off, there could be no hesitation; he would have to act swiftly and immediately. With the end of the enemy longsword pressed against his back, Gideon took a single step forward. Then, without warning, he dropped to a crouch and at once, launched himself backwards with as much force as he could muster. With any luck, his magnetized arms would cling either to his detainer’s weapon, or, even better, the opposing proxy’s body. Gideon had always been decent at poker, but this was a new kind of all in. He was betting everything on a pair of 2s and the element of surprise. It was stupid, yes. But if worked, it would make for one killer of a story to tell.

"Right."

Jean replied as sarcastically as possible and shook his head as he began walking towards his newly dented grenade. If he hadn't seen the damaged proxy's pilot in combat, he would have bet his boots that her only talent was being obnoxious. She was evidently too busy making a nuisance of herself to notice the mechanic's obvious mistake: he'd forgotten to arm the grenade. Any well built, inert explosive had no business blowing up, no matter how many bullets Jean chucked at it. If he wanted to activate a grenade at long distance, he would have to pull the pin first.

Of course, that presented a whole slew of additional inconveniences. Even Ms. Peanut Gallery herself was less of a pain to deal with than a live grenade. They were cantankerous little things, eager to ruin your day after barely any provocation. Theoretically, they wouldn't initiate their count downs until Jean took his hand off the cap, but that didn't really solve his problem: manually preventing a grenade from exploding meant that he couldn't activate it at long range. He was back at square one.

The mechanic hadn't even walked half the distance back to the crevasse where he'd placed the explosive before the distinctive sound of a proxy's footsteps interrupted his train of thought. Wait, wait, no, there was more than one set of footsteps. Jean couldn't quite tell how many more, but either way, he wasn't yet ready or willing to face a group of opponents: this was his queue to leave. He quickly closed to the gap to pick up his dented grenade, turned 90 degrees to the right, and broke into the best run he could manage. After all, the damaged proxy was impossible to see if you weren't looking for it, and he couldn't think of any reasons for a group of proxies to be actively searching for a hidden machine.

He couldn't think of any good reasons for a group be traveling so close to the edge of the map either, but he wasn't sticking around to find out what they were up to. If they were looking for easy targets, they'd have to try a bit harder before catching Jean-François de Champlain.

Instance 1 (Jean, Amber)

After running for several seconds, Jean heard the footsteps pick up the pace behind him. There were definitely two sets. However, they were being cautious, probably worried about running headlong into a trap. It would be easy to outpace them at this rate.

***

Amber and her new pal walked through the forest in silence, keeping a sharp lookout for potential threats. After exchanging a bit of information, she had learned that this sharpshooter’s name was Tiana Wessebas. However, further inquiry into her cup size and menstrual cycle had only earned Amber an uncomfortable glance and the awkward silence they now shared. Before long, they reached the inner tree line. They ducked down as they saw that the clearing ahead had several proxies gathered around the center. Two groups of four stood on opposite sides of the river and were making agitated gestures. Moreover, they were all broadcasting their speech.

All Amber could make out was a garbled mess of eight people shouting at each other. The encounter culminated in a brief firefight that left only one proxy intact. It slouched on the ground, its legs badly damaged, only to be dispatched seconds later by an unseen grenade. Eight kill notifications blared at once as the proxies faded away. Tiana seemed amused by this.

“Hah, wow. What a bunch of morons, am I right?” Before Amber had a chance to respond, her companion’s proxy froze in place. “Take cover!” She shouted, quickly standing up behind a tree. Amber looked over in time to see two proxies approaching before they took their places hiding amidst the foliage as well. One of them was very clearly missing an arm.


14 contestants remain.

__________
[b]Instance 2 (Sven, Gideon, Adrian)

“Ha! That was pretty cold, man. It’s fine, though. This is a competition, after all. Name’s Cecil, but my friends call me Cecil.” The two eventually made it to the river and set up to do some camping. Once they’d finished, he spoke up again. “Hmm. Now that i think about it, there was something weird about that chick.” He said, indicating the motionless proxy they’d hauled up here with them.

***

As Gideon ducked down, the proxy quickly twitched and fired off a shot. The bullet grazed his proxy’s shoulder, causing no real damage as he launched himself backward into his captor. The enemy proxy reeled back a few steps, but managed to stay standing as Gideon’s magnets locked to his chest plate. For a moment, he said nothing, completely at a loss for words. Then, without hesitation, he pressed his Longsword against the proxy’s temple.

“You have five seconds to give me a good reason not to blow you away right now.”

***

Adrian prepared to head back to his partner’s location, his current circuit around the area nearly complete. Using his legs was almost second nature to him now, and the novelty of waddling around unassisted was still very much enjoyable to him. However, as he prepared to return to the rendezvous location, he heard proxy footfalls nearby.

“Hey, Adrian. Is everything alright? Your circuit should be finished by now.” His partner chimed in over the communicator.

“Pshht. Come in, Purple Leader. This is Purple 1. We’ve got two bogies at 8 o’clock. I’m gonna check it out, over.”

“Pshht. Purple 1, this is Purple Leader. Do not engage, repeat, do not engage. That is an order, over.”

“Pshht. No can do, Purple Leader. I’m going in, over.”

“Pshht. This is mutiny, Purple 1. Return to base immediately or I’ll have your badge, over.”

“Pshht. What wa… an’t hea….. uch interfe….. cccchhhhhhhhhhhh, over.”

Adrian blocked further communications from his partner and crept around the rocks to get a peek at the approaching parties.


19 contestants remain.