entrancelogs | open } i'll chew you up and spit you out cause that's what young love is all about

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open } i'll chew you up and spit you out cause that's what young love is all about

Who: Princess Bubblegum, Rick Sanchez, and anyone who wants to watch a motherfucking ROBOT FIGHT
Where: outside in a large open area with specially assembled bleachers
When: 3/14
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: Bubblegum and Rick have had a slight disagreement over who's the better scientist. Time for a motherfucking robot fight to decide who's the best.
The Story:

It's a beautiful day outside. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming… perfect weather for a GIANT ROBOT FIGHT.

On one side of the field is Princess Bubblegum's robot, the CANDY CRUSHER, an elegant machine painted in pinks and purples that in no way make it look less like a giant metal monster that could squish a man like an ant. On the other side of the field stands THE ROBO-FUCKER, which is Rick’s monstrosity of metal and plastic and...wood for some reason. He built a robot out of wood one time and it worked pretty well, so whatever. It’s not nearly as elegant as the Princess’s, but it’s functional and covered in circular saws and servos and shit like that, so at least it has the “robot” part down.

Rick and Bonnie put aside their differences to assemble a set of bleachers large enough to hold the known population of Wonderland, since really, what's the point of having a giant robot fight to prove who the better scientist is if no one's there to watch it? It's complete with a force field to keep everyone harm from the carnage the two robots will undoubtedly cause.

Bonnie's on top of her robot with a blowtorch, making a few last minute adjustments as she waits for the match to start. She looks over towards Rick's robot with a glare. Sure, her attitude towards him may have softened in the process of building SUPER COOL BATTLEBOTS together, but that doesn't mean she's any less determined to crush him.

Rick matches her glare, and even does the whole point at eyes point at enemy thing because might as well sell this whole thing, right?

It’s just about time to begin. The crowds have gathered. People are drinking booze and milling about. Everyone’s here to see horrifying metal death.

Bonnie slides off her robot and takes her position at the end of the field, standing on a raised podium. She puts on a helmet and straps on her control gauntlets, then takes a battle ready position. The Candy Crusher lights up and follows suit.

Rick’s control system is more boring, basically just a sort of tablet with a few buttons and a joystick. This is basically like a super fun, high-stakes game of Punch Out to him. He taps the screen a few times and the ROBO-FUCKER (all caps of course) shifts and stomps in place a few times, servos whirring and circular saws starting to spin. He peers past the robots to where Bonnie is waiting on the other side of the field.

“You’re going doooooowwwnnnnn, aspartame!”

She gasps. "I AM ALL REAL, you collagen-deficient sack of biological material with a declining cell count and a tiny thymus! It is on!"

And she sends her robot charging forward, slamming her fists together into a laser gun that shoots bright pink blasts at the Robo-Fucker (she will not use all caps).

Rick answers with a war cry and the ROBO-FUCKER sends a blast of green energy in the direction of the Candy Crusher, while at the same time it charges forward. This is it! The robot fight of the millennium! Metal collides with metal! Saws meet blades! Lasers explode! Metal rends and shreds, plastic shatters, wood cracks. At one point Rick releases a bunch of snakes from a secret snake holster. They don’t do much but slither off toward the woods.

The battle rages on, and it’s basically the most awesome thing you have ever seen, I mean, come on, it’s two robots fighting, how badass is this? But after several long, incredibly cool minutes, it’s clear who the victor is. The Candy Crusher crushes the ROBO-FUCKER and it goes to pieces in the field.

Rick howls in anger to keep up appearances. Sure, this is a blow to his ego, but holy shit that was a lot of fun.

Bonnie pulls off her helmet and drops it on the stage next to her, holding up her fists. "I AM THE GREATEST SCIENTIST OF ALL TIME!" She presses one last button, and the Candy Crusher's fists shoot up into the sky, exploding in a brilliant display of fireworks. Her ego, it appears, is doing even better than usual. But yes, it was definitely fun.

Rick crosses the field once he’s sure most people aren’t looking anymore and, with a very begrudging look on his face, offers his hand for Bubblegum to shake.

“A-Alright, that was actually fun, we should totally do this again sometime, and anyway, you’re smart or whatever I guess.”

She shakes it, beaming. "Yes, I suppose you aren't as far beneath my level as I thought."

[ooc: feel free to mingle and tag out watching the robot fight or anything before or after, as well as to bother either of our robot engineers! we'll have starters for different sections.]

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Honestly, no one has to say anything beyond robot fight. Add pink bubblegum lady to the mix and Alex is on it like white on rice. His single encounter with, what was it, The Rickiest Rick, yeah right, didn't exactly cast either of them in the best light, but Alex really can't find it in him to give a shit. Not when there's robot fights.

He's laid low for long enough. That creepy kid's not on his ass anymore, and even if they were, he doubts they'd make a move in a crowd like this.

If he's honest with himself, Rick's robot is more Alex's style. But just to be an ass, his money's on the pink lady. Or whatever counts for money here.

He can be found hanging near the back, less enthusiastic a participant but no less curious about the outcome of the fight. Maybe trying to get a good shot of the battle or two with his camera or his phone. Maybe he can hawk shit like this to exiting passers-by. Who knows?

Hey, Kralie, don't jinx it. Don't you know the creepy kid comes when people call it?

Sometimes, you're just here to watch a whole lot of violence. But sometimes, from across a crowded place, you lock eyes with good ol' Alex Something-Or-Other. And sometimes... you just can't resist the opportunity to make someone's sins crawl.

So Chara. Chara continues to bore that piercing red stare into Alex. Chara reaches slowly and deliberately into their back pocket, slips something up the sleeve of their sweater. They raise their hand and wave, cheerfully, innocently. But peeking out of the edge of their sleeve, pressed into their palm by a few tensed fingers, is an unopened switchblade. One that might look familiar, even from a distance.

And Chara, wearing their sweet, rosy smile, begins to stroll their way through the crowd. Just to see what Alex will do.

Oh goddamnit. Knew this whole shebang was too good to be true. He pretends to ignore them, at first - Max said this whole thing should be behind them by now, so that means he doesn't have any reason to pick a fight with a red-eyed...thing walking around in the skin of a kid. Doesn't mean he has to like it, though.

The glint of a very familiar knife in their hand catches his attention soon enough, despite his best intentions. Took it off his corpse, did they? Figures. At least he wasn't attached to thing.

A stupid part of him hopes that they'll just leave it at that, but nooooo they've got to come at him with that creepy-as-all-fuck smirk, grinning like a cat that's just cornered a particularly juicy mouse for the taking. Alex swings around, training the camera directly on them as they approach. Who cares if the picture's fuzzy? If all else fails, he can pop this up on the network in the hopes that it'll inspire someone else to take the kid out.

A camera pointed at them, and no lens cap to block them out.

They know what really happens, because they've been making video responses all over the network. But still, the fun thought flickers through their mind. What if this wrathful spirit doesn't show up on film? What if nothing but a strange blur shows up, a peculiar distortion of reality, a staticky, obscured face like a Lost Soul's? What if the true Chara shows up, with hollow eyes and nothingness leaking out of them, thick dark fluid erasing their cheeks, their lips, their ghastly smile?

Okay, Chara, are you ready? Do your creepy face!

"Greetings, mystery text," they announce. Just to be a little unnerving. He only revealed himself to be that in an overwritten timeline, after all. "I just thought I would ask if you got my apology card. I did not know where to send it, you see, and you never wrote back."

They stand, hands behind their back. Rocking on their heels innocently. Fingers running over the reassuring lump in their sleeve, hidden away from sight.

Mystery text. His eyes narrow, successfully unnerved. How the hell did they figure that one out? Was he too obvious? Obvious enough to stand out from the dozens of people here? No. That can't be right.

"Beat it, kid," he grunts. He can figure that out later. When they're someplace that's else. "I'm not your damn chew toy."

Despite the fact that all evidence proves otherwise. Can't even kill a kid, huh, Kralie? Serious downgrade from your old habits back home. How many people did you get killed again?

He wants to communicate a sentiment of don't give a damn but he's not really sure how to do that without taking his eyes off them, which he is definitely not gonna do. "And I shredded it."

A funny assertion, because he really was just a toy, wasn't he? EXP. Something effortlessly baited into throwing itself on his knife. A bone for a wild dog to bury in the garden. Funny, the comparison between his uneasy bravado now and the surety with which he had crept up on their back with a blade in his hand.

Just like a human, huh? So eager to assert his power over someone smaller. And yet, when he realizes he is not the one in control, when he does not get the ego trip he thought he would get out of crushing something that should have been helpless. Suddenly, it's not so fun, is it? Look at you now, hero!

They take another step forward, just because they want to see how many they can take before he backs up. They keep their eyes on him, just because they want to see if it will be fear or more of that too-cool-to-care bravado that eventually makes him the first to look away.

"Golly, that's mean," they point out sweetly. "I'm just a kid, remember? I'm only trying to make amends."

Ha, ha. Just a kid. The claims that goaded him into such a fury. Real fun to reminisce, Alex, isn't it?

He snorts skeptically, though his expression still telegraphs his unease quite clearly.

"Like hell." The whole red-eyed thing - that's not normal. No kid smiles like that. No kid acts like that. Frankly, at this point he wouldn't be surprised to learn that they ate babies and kicked puppies in their spare time. "I bet you were real torn up about it."

Torn up. A dumb joke in the face of some obnoxious little shit that got a lucky strike in. A fatal luck strike, sure, but he's not really about to believe that they're really all that. Creepy, sure, but able to overpower him directly? No goddamn way.

Ha, ha. Riotous. Chara knows another guy who makes jokes in the face of an unstoppable force, too. Doesn't seem to do him a lot of good either.

"It stings," they answer, head tilting oh-so-mournfully. "It's like a knife to the gut."

One more step forward. Can you hear it, Alex?

Can you feel it? The world curling in on itself like a dying insect's legs. No crinkling of leaves, no mouse that might one day get cheese, no howling wind. The will to live, devoid of reason or joy, anchoring reality.

* Determination.

Sans is here. Frisk is here. It will go noticed, if they yank the timeline back to this point. But Chara... Chara does not care. Chara wants to see what happens.

"Hilarious," he growls.

But it's not funny.

Clutching a camera, aiming it at them like it's a shield and it'll keep them from coming any closer. Maybe that would've worked against the thing he's thinking of (that he's always thinking of) but they're flesh and blood. Aren't they?

"Stay where you goddamn are." They're surrounded by people. They can't possibly think of doing this here. But the fear tickles at his heart, thumping in his throat, chilling his back with cold sweat. "Got an awful lot of eyes around to be trying something like this, don't you think?"

Y-you better stay r-right where you are, a small, quivering voice demands. Free EXP.

Been there, Kralie. Done that.

"Eyes won't stop me," they announce, cheerful, singsong. Their hands are no longer behind their back. They drop to Chara's sides, both clenched, only one of them empty. Remember which hand the knife was in, Alex? Which hand was their dominant one? Same as Frisk's? Their mirror opposite? Or did that change across realities, same as the name that called the demon?

"The entire world once pitted itself against me. Its will united. Each heart beat as one. And I danced with their hopes and dreams." A dusty tutu, old shoes. A true heroine.

"I learned. I am strong enough to survive. All the world can turn against me, and I will not be stopped."

There are people all around. Someone's bound to overhear their words. The camera is trained on them, catching every last second.

"They're on your side, of course, aren't they? They must have been so sympathetic when you woke up. You must have felt like a hero as you explained what you had tried to do."

Step. Step. Almost in arm's reach. Won't be long now.

"They'll save you, Alex. Safety in numbers. You have your friends... don't you? Or. Perhaps. Are you alone, even in a crowd?"

What...what kind of after school special crap are they spouting now?

One hand drops to his side, fingers itching. He wouldn't wish the thing in his nightmares on anyone - but shit, this kid might just deserve it if he could make it happen. It'd give him the excuse to really wring their skinny little neck.

They don't know. They can't even begin to understand. He is the hero. He fixes the damn problems, and makes it so they never hurt anyone again. It's not his fault. It's not his fault.

The boiling-over frustration, the rage churning in his gut, all calcifies into a twitch of his eyelids. An ice-thin smile.

Whatever they threaten, they're not the thing he sees every time his eyes shut. They'll never be the thing that haunts him. Death is a goddamn blessing compared to that thing.

"Try it," he says. "You got me. Unarmed, right?" Wrong. He has his camera. He's ready to catch whatever blow they throw at him - clumsily, maybe, but he thinks he can do it.

Mock them. Taunt them. His lip curls in a sneer as he hisses, "come on. Show the world what you are. What you deserve."

What they are. What they deserve.

Ha, ha.

The click of a blade being released. Left hand. They raise it. Turn it around to point it at themselves. There's a wound right over their sternum, equal parts stab and bruise. One of Undyne's spears, mostly halted by a shattered, broken chair. Not quite enough momentum to pierce through. It takes a lot of force to make it past bone. The body is designed to protect itself. But the thought intrudes hilariously. Give him exactly what he wants, let him stick it on film, maybe he'll convince himself he won!

Idly, they glance over at the fight they actually came here to see. Note what's happening. Metal shrapnel and splinters of wood. Snakes on the ground. Cool, right? Fun. The sort of violence people want to see.

They giggle. Golly, not the time or place after all, is it? No need to be so morbid when everyone's just here to have a good time. Chill, Chara. Play the game a little more subtly. Rewind.

"It stings," they answer, head tilting oh-so-mournfully. "It's like a knife to the gut."

And their hands are still behind their back, and they still wear their smile. Ctrl + Z. Undo. It's enough to know that he's afraid. It's enough to know that he's unarmed.

So they just keep staring at him. Staying put for now. "At the very least. I'm glad that you're getting over it so well," they announce offhandedly. "I worried that you might be scared. Hiding from me. Looking over your shoulder. But you didn't even bring a weapon with you!"

"Don't need one," he says, as casually as he can manage. He's got his camera. That's enough, and he doesn't wander around packing a knife, never does. Usually. His eyes dart down to the viewfinder as he wonders distantly, idly, if this monstrous thing would inflict the same kind of digital havoc on the tape as he does, as it does.

Wait, wasn't he just...?

No. What? That wouldn't make any sense. He can't waste any time puzzling when this thing's got him in its sights.

He huffs, a sardonic, humorless little sound. "You'll never be the scariest thing out there."

Edited 2016-03-16 03:01 (UTC)

"Oh. That's right. You have your phone. You have a crowd all around you. You have nothing to fear." Recording it had made such a difference last time, after all, had it not? It had let everyone see! The demon's true nature, the end of a hero, laid out for all of Wonderland. And how they had all rallied around Alex, right?

But, hey, they're here to play nice. Aren't they? "I'm not trying to be the scariest thing out there, you know. If you had gotten to know me before you tried to destroy me, you would find that I'm actually extremely ordinary."

Very ordinary. And then, just because they can, just because they know what happens, just because they've already seen it. They jerk their head towards the robot arena, though they do not actually look. They're not moving their stare away from Alex. "Check it out. Snake holster, deploying in three seconds."

Three? Four? Six? A guess. Don't have to be perfectly accurate to be creepy.

"I've met scary. You're not it." You have to not have a face, for one. That's really the single item on Alex's criteria of Scary Shit That Needs To Die. Chara, on the other hand, is more or less just on his list of Shit That Needs To Die. Period, full stop.

The camera's his shield. That's all someone like him needs. He has Rocket's gun stowed away somewhere in his room, though its kick and loud bang don't make it a great weapon in his hands. He should've asked Rocket for a pistol of some kind, something a little more his speed. Maybe then this little shit would be the one with one death under their belt instead of him.

"Am I missing the carnage? Pity." A look behind you ploy might've worked in fifth grade, but not here and not now. "Say, why don't you get in on that action? Lots of punching and yelling and violence. Seems right up your alley."

Or they could play with some nuclear waste. He's really not picky on that front.

Not even gonna give them the satisfaction, huh? Bummer. What's the point in foreknowledge if you're the only one who gets to remember?

"I would love to, but I was not invited. Think one of them would make me a robot like that if I asked nicely?" They'd mentioned the thought to Dipper, too: they got awfully far on nothing but sticks and ballet shoes and notebooks and frying pans. Fun to think what might happen if they started to branch out. If knives weren't the only weapon they had that was actually meant to be a weapon.

Snakes: deployed. They just kinda slither for the woods. Snake holsters: truly wasted on this audience.

"Gee, wonder why that could be." His mouth twists with revulsion. Can't imagine why they wouldn't want to invite this sick little sociopath to their robot soiree.

"I'm thinking a couple supergeniuses are a whole lot smarter than you if you think they're gonna make you a killer-bot." Maybe if they didn't walk around grinning the way they did they might get farther with subterfuge, but Alex isn't one to give this kid pointers.

He doesn't dare tear his gaze from them. Much as he might hold up his camera as his protection - which it is, in a manner of speaking - they're the one that's lethally armed here.

"Wow, you're kind of a downer, aren't you?" Chara observes. "People would like you much better if you smiled a little more, you know."

Behind their back, a knife passes from one hand to another. They raise a hand suddenly, sharply. Left hand.

It's empty. They just play with their hair, scratch their ear where a healed-over cut still itches.

"You know that Max is fine, right? We talked it out. You really don't have anything left to worry about."

Alex doesn't dignify that with a response. He raises one eyebrow slowly, skeptically. His eyes flick down to the camera's screen, then back again.

"So I heard," he says shortly. "Doesn't exonerate you."

Nor does he entirely believe it. Whatever Max claims, that they talked it out or whatever bullshit, he's still something like 90% certain it's all some grand ploy on their end. Something to catch people off guard, particularly after Alex died on screen for all of Wonderland to see.

"In fact, I think it's pretty damn shady," says Alex after a pause, "keeping your mitts off like that. You might have Max fooled. She wants to like you, see. Wants to trust you." He snorts softly. "I'm not that gullible."

So many ways to answer that. Most of them jokes. Derisive, jeering laughter. She wants to trust them? Isn't that just the joke of the year! She won't be getting near them again, Chara's sure of that.

But. Again. Playing nice. One must keep up appearances, surely.

"Well, Alex. Your vigilance in trying to send preteens to hell is nothing less than admirable. I'm sure that it's going to pay off handsomely. But as for me. If you have no interest in reconciliation, then I have better things to do."

As far as he knows, anyway.

"But do try to relax. I'm going to be around for as long as Wonderland wants me, after all. You're only going to keep running into me. It's always going to be like this, from now on."

"Then smile, hotshot." His smirk is stiff and grim and flinted with a hard edge, his eyes cold. "You're on camera."

The threat remains unspoken, but present. He'll be watching.

He doesn't forgive, and he doesn't forget. Maybe if he decided this kid had something worth redeeming about them, but a mind's a hard thing to turn once it's set off down a path of unknowing self-destruction.

Vigilance? That's easy. He can't remember a time in his life when he wasn't consistently on edge. He'll stick with his implicit threats for now.

Maybe he should set up a security camera network.

A laugh. Of course. Did he expect any other reaction?

"I'm always smiling."

Eyes on them are nothing new. A hooded figure watching in the distance. A flower who ducks out of sight just at the edges of vision. An entire Underground whispering hopefully as they waited for the future of humans and monsters to do something. A camera that never actually captured any of their voice, a creepy face and an earnest smile both hidden behind a lens cap.

Old news. Always, inevitably, the same patterns repeating.

They turn on their heel, cast a cheerful smile over their shoulder at him. "So long, Alex Something-Or-Other. Until we meet again."

Edited 2016-03-16 07:47 (UTC)

Kralie, he almost fires back, but he bites back the urge. The less they know about him, the better. He doesn't take his eyes off them as they go. It's only when they're out of his eyesight that he returns his attention to filming the robot-on-robot spectacle.

So this might not be as over as Max wants to believe. Great.

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open } i'll chew you up and spit you out cause that's what young love is all about

Alex Kralie | ota

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