Chapter 11: Chapter 11: Dreamy Destruction

Jester couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Virtualdream as he moved away from the robots.

She appeared calm, though she could have been mouthing swears under the mask. Maybe crying. It was impossible to tell. Her body language suggested she was fine, however. Hands unclenched and with none of the nervous ticks he’d expect from someone unsure of themselves.

Rust_Wolf was much the same. He was at the forefront of their little group, eyes locked with Kangarookie. Their opponents were much more—animated. Bullybill slammed his fist into his open palm over and over again.

Kangarookie refused to stand still, his feet tapping as he swayed from side to side. As for Ridinghood, they kept looking around as though expecting an ambush. Jester thought that was rather ironic. Now they were in front of him, he knew they were the ones who watched them from the junk piles.

The robots that circled the arena had yet to make any form of attack. As the two wolves stared each other down as they growled softly. One was a rusty red with a prominent laser gun mounted on its back. A soft red glow came from the small lights along the gun’s side.

A crackle of electricity covered the faux-fur of the others. Yellow and blue jolts running along its back. Arthur found himself impressed with the sharp-looking teeth.

Happy Hour, for her part, was standing still. She was staring up at an overly muscled koala dressed in red suspenders. A club clutched in its hand smacked into the ground in time with BullyBill’s fist.

Virtualdream’s machine was the largest on the field. Its chassis was a dump truck, with several round plates attached to the side. They spun, causing a mesmerizing effect as the black line turned into a quick spiral.

Last, but not least, was Kangarookie’s beast. The Kangaroo was about the same size as a human, with large boxing gloves in place of its hand. Jester noticed a bulge in the pouch as he looked at the machine. Another weapon or a power source? He couldn’t be sure.

Kangarookie broken the stalemate first.

“Well?” he stamped a foot. “What are you waiting for? An invitation?”

That seemed to be the start they wanted.

Everyone moved at once, but not all in the same direction. Metal flashed and screeched as the two wolves jumped at each other. Rust_Wolf’s machine cringing back as it retrieved an electric shock. Though when it did, Jester saw the lights on the laser flicker.

BullyBill’s koala went right for Virtualdream’s machine. This was a fight that Jester was excited about. Sure, it wasn’t the best time. But information was information. The truck reversed, leaving tire tracks as it spun in the dirt. The movement caused a massive dust cloud to erupt, and everyone coughed.

He heard a feminine yell as Happy Hour flew backwards. The kangaroo hopped after her, appearing from the dust as it punched the air. She got to her feet in time to dodge another punch, her foot lashed out. A clang reverberated around the area as the knife in her shoe smacked into the creature’s side.

“Dangerous pets need better care!” She called, as she ducked another punch.

In reply, the kangaroo let out a high-pitched giggle and spun around, its thick tail smacking into Happy Hour's stomach. The blow knock her into the side of the truck, whose spinning plates seemed to have mesmerized the koala.

Yells and curses came from all sides. No matter what its owner yelled, however. The mechanical beats stood there, the club dangling at its side. That changed when the kangaroo launched itself into the air. Jester screamed for Happy Hour to watch out, and she rolled beneath the truck.

However, she wasn’t the target. The kangaroo landed feet first on the koala’s face. With a clang and thud, the two hit the ground, and whatever spell the truck laid was gone. Jester made a mental note. He wasn’t sure how best to avoid that one. Happy Hour needed to see to dodge, which would be hard enough as it was.

With a shake of its head, the koala got back to its feet. One hand pulled up the kangaroo and tossed it feet first towards the brawling wolves. Rust_Wolf’s robot acted first. It ducked down and rolled on its side.

With a yelp, the electricity producing wolf took the full force of the blow. It lay there, unmoving, as the kangaroo righted itself. Kangarookie glared at Ridinghood, who simply recalled her robot to inventory. Without a word, she turned and left.

“Coward! Weakling!”

None of the words phased her. Jester didn’t blame her for leaving either. It was clear she didn’t have any actual business here. A mercenary then. Uncommon, but the good ones could make some serious coin harassing the right people.

A crunch drew Jester’s attention back to the fight. The truck was leaning precariously over as the koala reared back for another swing. With effort, all four wheels once more hit the first. His eyes were wide as he saw Happy Hour gripping onto the axle.

He couldn’t help but smile. Clever girl. She was outmatched and knew it. Better to hide until she needed to come out.

The truck rocked again as the kangaroo hit it from the other side. A large dent forming in the metal, and one plate stopped spinning entirely. Beside him, Virtualdream stiffened, and he could see her fingers twitch. She was thinking about recalling her robot.

“Don’t.” He kept his voice low enough only she could see hear him over the noise of battle. “We need you.”

“But I’m losing.” The voice was more whiny than he expected, a petulant child demanding an extended bedtime.

“Not yet,” Jester said. “Give it a minute.”

He didn’t know if that was true, but he didn’t want Happy Hour to lose her hiding spot. No point for her to get injured because his teammate lost their nerve.

The two mechanical beasts continued to slap at the machine. Jester scanned the ground, happy to see a flash of black and red as Happy Hour crawled out from beneath. Good, she’d realized staying there wouldn’t last.

Now all she needed to do was hide. Jester’s mood dropped as he saw what she did instead.

Her hands raised above her head.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” Jester whispered to himself.

Happy Hour’s song was almost lost behind the other sounds of battle. Her dance, however, caught everyone’s attention. The mechanical beasts stopped pounding on the truck, and as one turned to her.

She continued to dance, and soon the kangaroo joined in. It hopped from foot to foot, approaching her as it punched the air in a slow pattern. The koala thumped its club on the ground to match the beat. Even the truck’s lights flashed on and off.

Happy Hour was on the points of her knife shoes, still dancing as she watched the approaching enemies. So enthralled and worried by her actions, Jester flinched at the ray of light that punched through the kangaroo.

A smoking hole was all that remained of its pouch, making the damaged power core visible to all.

The koala turned towards the rust-colored wolf, its club raised. It let out a screech, and moved forward, still stamping to the rhythm of the song. With swift movements, the wolf dodged the first strike. Then the second. Before the third could land, Jester heard the loud honk of a car horn.

Seconds before the collision, the koala turned. Jester winced as he watched the truck slam into the beast. It flew backwards, somehow not dead. It rose to its knees; the club used as a walking still.

Silence reigned, not even Kangarookie moved now. As the Koala lift its head, Happy Hour sprang forward. From knife point to knife point, she skipped before she spun and kicked out. The blade sticking deep into the koala’s face.

As she pulled it out, the wolf leapt.

Happy Hour moved away from the carnage and bowed towards Rust_Wolf, who gave a slow nod.

“Are we done here?” Rust_Wolf made a motion, and his robot vanished. The chewed out hole in the koalas’ torso threw sparks into the air.

Kangarookie stamped his foot. “You cheated.”

“How?” That came from Andry, the bigger man moving with speed to get between the two groups. “I watched the entire thing.”

“Well. He. You all saw it.” Kangarookie turned to his group, who were all quiet. Some were even edging away. “Tell them!”

“Boss,” BullyBill said. “We should—”

“—don’t tell me what to do!” Kangarookie snarled. “We leave when I say we leave.”

“No.” Andry marched his way over to the younger man. His hands relaxed, but Jester knew how fast they could move. “You lost. Now stop harassing his scouts.”

Kangarookie took a step back. Andry’s voice was firm but cold. It reminded Jester of a miniature Mistletail.

“Is that clear?”

“Fine. Sure. This is all stupid anyway. Not my fault, you lot can’t take a joke.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Jester muttered under his breath.

Virtualdream giggled as Happy Hour made her way over. To his relief, he could see the dress start to self repair. Stars gathering around the tiny rips, until they were no more.

“Now Jester, I’d like to thank you for your help.” Rust-Wolf was beside him, his hand outstretched.

Jester nodded and took the pro-offered hand. “It’s fine. The entire point of the union and all.”

“Ha.” Rust_Wolf turned to look at Andry. “I suppose it is. Are you staying to mingle?”

Jester considered it, but he couldn’t see the point. Besides, Dam13n was waiting for him. He doubted Virtualdream would spill any trade secrets.

“Nah, I might run,” he said. “Don’t want to deal with the paperwork.”

That got a genuine laugh from Rust_Wolf and a worried look from Andry, who was now in earshot.

With a wave, he left the small group, trying to commit the scene to memory.

“How do you feel?” he asked, when he felt they were far enough away.

“I’m alright Jester.” Happy Hour wiped some dust off her clothes. “That was more of a brawl than I’m used to.”

“I bet,” Jester said. “I didn’t expect it to go like that. You up for seeing Dam13n?”

When he received her nod of approval, he shot the man a text. It wasn’t too late, and he had the day off tomorrow. Some missed sleep wouldn’t kill him.

The excited reply brought a grin to his face. They’d have to hurry if that drink offer was as real as he hoped it was.

***

Jester nodded to Gero as he crossed the bridge, before pausing. The bridge guard looked perturbed, which meant a quest. One that he’d accidentally activated by acknowledging the man. Sure, he could turn it down. However, he’d finally gotten Gero to stop glowering at him, and he didn’t want to go back.

Besides it wasn’t an immediate issue. They’d still have time to get to The Last Rite. His eyes flicked towards Happy hour, who was standing by his side now that he had released her from the inventory. Maybe hit Markal’s on the way. A quick look over her wouldn’t hurt. She could do with some healing.

“St’Servo,” Gero said.

“Gero.” Hester nodded back. “What’s up?”

“There’s been a theft, if you can believe it.” Gero scratched his chin. “You know the clothing shop? Ahh, what’s it called?”

He snapped his fingers. “Handmade Hand-Me-Downs! That’s it.”

Jester tensed. Was this about Whiskers or just a generic tracking quest? They weren’t uncommon, and usually aided in gaining reputation.

“Someone robbed Mrs. Shivit?” Happy Hour interjected. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah, you.” Jester thought.

“It is. A pleasant lady,” Gero nodded. “They broke a window and stole several garments. A tragedy.”

Jester let out a small sigh of relief, which Gero didn’t appear to notice.

“We can keep an eye out?” He promised. “But we haven’t heard anything.”

“If you’d be so kind.” Gero handed him a small scroll. When he opened it, he got the proper quest screen.

Player generated meant that whoever stole from the store was a player. That would be a problem. It could be anyone. At least with a NPC thief, they had regular hangs outs.

With a sigh, he accepted the quest. Gero would be handing this quest out to anyone who passed. Plus, he could drop it into the union to see if they had any leads. It wouldn’t be worth much.

“Thanks St. Servo,” Gero nodded at him again, and returned to his regular lean.

“Are we detective now Jester?” Happy Hour asked.

The image of her dressed as a P.I. came to mind. He smirked.

“That depends on if we can find you a suitable hat. Now come on, we have somewhere we need to be.”

The walk to Markal’s bore no interruptions, and as per usual, no one was inside. Even the elderly NPC was elsewhere, leaving the shop feeling oddly empty. He directed Happy Hour towards first the cleaning machine, and then the diagnostic one.

Her stats flashed up, and he winced as he saw her health.

Her health was lower than he’d expected. The kangaroo hitting harder than he’d thought. Though the fact she wasn’t dead proved she was getting better at dodging.

“How do I look, doc?” She said with an overdone whimper. “Will I live?”

“Maybe,” Jester answered, trying not to roll his eyes as he grabbed some tools. “Let’s see how the surgery goes.”

Happy Hour beamed and sat back as he started working. The designers kept the act of healing a robot simple enough anyone could do. He’d sat with Kylee enough times to know the procedure by heart. Though, it was different with Happy Hour.

Most robots stayed silent and still during the healing process. A decision by the developers to make the process easier for everyone. Happy Hour did not do this. She wiggled and laughed as the soft red light moved over her skin.

Jester watched in amazement as she cracked jokes and complained about a ticking sensation. He couldn’t help it. She was so different from anything else. If not for the rumors DollmakerMC had quit the game, Jester would have tried to track him down.

The man’s creation was amazing. It would be fascinating to see what else she could do. Could be. Because, even though he had no real bases, something told him he hadn’t yet scratched the surface.

“That was fun.” Happy Hour let out a giggle as she slid off the bench. “Are we heading to meet Dam13n now?”

“Yeah,” Jester nodded, wiping down the tools. “Are you feeling ok though?”

“I’m great.” She bounced a little as she spoke. “That was fun.”

He couldn’t help but shake his head as made his way outside. She was so weird.

Nobody spoke to them until they reached the boundary of The Outskirts. A single step into Geartown was enough for the atmosphere to change. Happy Hour pressed closed as people glared.

A man dressed in a blue suit jacket and shorts shouted at them.

“Go back to hide in The Junkyard Dollfucker!”

That statement brought with it laughs and jeers. Jester continued walking, head help high. However, this time it wasn’t all insults. He spotted a few familiar faces from the Dollhouse as they moved. People who congratulated him on his win over Tiffany.

None of them interjected, of course. But they looked on in sympathy. Faces showing hurt at the words being thrown his way. Jester tried not to stare too long. It was clear they were doing their best to avoid the attention. His stomach riled at the thought.

They weren’t at fault, but what could he do?

A grunt behind him made him glance over his shoulder. Happy hour was on the ground. His eyes widened as he helped her up. He could hear the snickering from around him. A few people looked like possible suspects, but no one owned up.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Different members of the crowd let out sarcastic aww’s at that. He ignored them.

“Fine,” Happy hour said in her neutral voice. “Shall we continue?”

“Do you want me to put you away?”

That would contradict Kylee’s instructions, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. Happy Hour shook her head, but said nothing else.

“In front of me then,” Jester said, and waited for her to move.

His eyes darted around the sea of smirking faces. He wanted to know who’d done it. Also, why? It wasn’t like she could feel pain from such an action. Plus, for all they knew, she couldn’t feel embarrassment either.

Was it to waste his time?

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A younger boy darted out of the crowd. His current outfit was reminiscent of a cartoon caveman. His leopard print loincloth making him stand out. Jester moved as the kid went into a slide and took the blow on his shin.

With a swift kick, he caught the kid in the side.

“Ow!” the child wailed, and the crowd stayed silent.

Jester scoffed. “That didn’t hurt. Get up.”

He waited until the kid was on his feet before he stared down at him.

“Your mother knows what you’re doing in here?”

“My ma doesn’t care what happens to perverts like you,” the kid spat.

That got a laugh from the onlookers.

“Well, you keep trying to touch her,” Jester said. “Does that mean she doesn’t care about you either?”

A few oohs interspersed the laughter. Jester felt proud of that one until he remembered he was arguing with a kid. One who looked far more angry than the commented warranted.

“Shut up!” The kid yelled. “I’m not into your gross fantasies.”

“And yet here you are,” Jester goaded. Unable to help himself, even though he knew it was stupid.

He turned to Happy Hour. “You up for babysitting? I’m sure the child needs someone to care about him for five minutes.”

Before she could answer, the kid bolted. Jester watched him go with a shake of his head. He couldn’t believe that people were attacking him in the streets, child or not. His eyes roamed the faces that watched him.

“Anyone else want to play?”

No one answered.

“Let’s go, Happy Hour.” Jester started walking again, hearing her footsteps behind him. This time, he kept his eyes firmly peeled. He didn’t want anyone else darting at them. To his relief, the rest of the trip was uneventful.

The crowd petered out as they moved into what Jester mentally dubbed the gothic district. From the surrounding rooftops, gargoyles peered at him. Stained-glass windows decorated several buildings, each depicting vampires and werewolves locked in conflict.

Avatars dressed all in black roamed the streets. He passed a collection of men and women who reminded him of Frankenstein. Another a gaggle of witches who surrounded a handsome vampire.

All of them glanced at him as he passed, though oddly, none scowled. Perhaps they saw him as a fellow outcast? Or maybe they didn’t have the peer pressure to care as much as the ones outside. No matter the reason, Jester couldn’t help but appreciate it.

The Last Rite was a small establishment. On the outside, it was a single story squat stone building devoid of any decoration. No signs or posters explained what it was. This was the type of place you found because they invited you.

Jester liked it already.

He glanced at Happy Hour, who flashed him a small smile. With that, he pushed open the door and entered the pool of noise.

***

The stone corridor he walked down with low and narrow. It sloped down the entire time, leading him to realize he was going deep underground. That made sense. Vampires loved their crypts, after all.

As he walked, he listened to the organ music play. Soft and slow, a funeral march he supposed. Beside him, Happy Hour hummed along. Her eyes half closed as she moved at a slow and steady pace.

“I didn’t think this was your thing,” Jester said.

“All music is my thing.” Happy hour smiled as she spoke.

Her left hand rose before her, fingers clenched as though holding a baton. She waved the imaginary stick in the air. “Every song is worth something, no matter how simple.”

“I suppose so.” Jester shrugged. He’d never really thought about it. “Is there any style you prefer?”

That got him a side-eye’d look.

“Whatever I can dance to, of course.”

“Of course.”

Jester smiled as he walked into the room proper. He spotted Dam13n without effort. The young man was the only one not wearing black robes or a fusion of the two. All around, several attractive men and women sat. All pinnacles of gothic beauty, with shimmering black hair and heavy massacred eyes.

One, a rarity with red lipstick instead of black, smiled at him.

“The one who beat Heather, an honor?” The figure was androgynous, down to the voice.

Jester waved. “That’s me. Got room for two more?”

“Of course,” they replied. “My names Lex.”

“Nice to meet you, Lex,” Jester said. “Sort for something?”

“Maybe,” Lex grinned.

“Took you long enough.” Dam13n butted in, unwrapping his arm from a beautiful female vampire.

Her protruding fangs glinted in the table’s candlelight. Jester tried not to meet her gaze. She looked hungry, and more than a little annoyed at the interruption. From where he was sitting, he could see her hand was resting on Dam13n’s thigh. At least he hoped it was his thigh.

“Sorry, needed to heal Happy Hour. Got into a bit of a tussle we weren’t expecting.”

That piqued everyone’s interest. No matter your clique, everyone loved hearing about robot fights.

“I thought you were just going to talk?” Dam13n raised an eyebrow as he sipped from a pewter goblet.

“That was the plan.” Jester grabbed his own drink from a returning Happy Hour. They made the cup from a skull and the liquid was red. It smelled like strawberries, so he tried it. Tasted like strawberries as well.

“But they fought you?” Lex asked. “These are the Scrapper gangs Dam13n mentioned? Forgive me for asking, but I didn’t think Scrapper’s worked in teams.”

“Some do,” Jester shrugged. “Plenty of us work alone.”

“Except for your partners?” The vampire girl smirked as she gestured at Happy Hour. “I love your dress, by the way.”

“Except for me,” Happy Hour said. “And thank you. I’m rather fond of it myself.”

“Oh, I bet he is too.” The vampire girl giggled and made a familiar hand motion.

Dam13n frowned, and moved, shifted further from the girl.

“Don’t be an ass, Sascren.”

“Oh, lighten up. They know I’m messing around.” Sascren rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though, have you tried anything else? I have some stuff that you would love great in. You’re already so close to pale. A little hair dye and we can get you looking like a regular.”

Happy Hour shot Jester a look, who couldn’t help but imagine her in gothic attire.

“I’m not going to say no if you want to try it.”

“Don’t we have a fight coming up soon?” She bit at her lip, looking between him and Sascren.

“Not for a bit. It won’t hurt.”

“Well, in that case. I’d love to try it.”

Sascren beamed and started shooing people aside so she could get out.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Tass, you have my makeup kit, right? Thank you. Come on! Come on! Bathroom is this way.”

Happy Hour shot one last look over her shoulder as Sascren pulled her through a nearby door.

“She’ll be fine, right?” Jester asked Dam13n.

“Sure man.” Dam13n took another sip. “Don’t expect to get her out of those clothes tonight. Besides, aren’t you a little curious about how this is going to go with the whole personality thing?”

“Hot robot goth girlfriend,” whispered one of the other guys.

The entire table roared with laughter.

“But seriously, what happened with the fight?” Dam13n looked at Jester expectantly.

“Well,” Jester started.

The entire explanation wasn’t long, but they forced him to be thorough. Both Lex and Dam13n asking multiple questions. Most centered on how ZZZ_Dozer had affected the other robots.

They both whistled at the answer.

“A hacking program, you think?” Dam13n asked Lex.

Lex nodded. “Have to be. Some kind of proximity stun based on sight…” he trailed off, drumming his fingers. “Can’t be that powerful if they snapped out of it that easily.”

“I hope not,” Jester admitted.

“Right, you’re going to have to fight it.” Lex chuckled. “Got any ideas?”

“None so far. Glasses maybe if it’s sight based?”

“Might work. Blind would be better,” Dam13n cut in. “Saw a bat-girl android once, Blind, and screamed a lot. Fought with a cane.”

“I don’t think blinding Happy Hour will be the best idea.” Jester finished his drink and gestured for a refill. The NPC servers responded to the same ques no matter the establishment.

When he’d received another, he continued. “But it’ll have to be something. Otherwise, it’s going to be the shortest fight in history.”

“Some kind of self damaging ability?” Lex mused. “That you need to activate, otherwise, it shocks you. That got the koala out of it, right?”

Jester blinked. That wasn’t a bad idea.

“I’d have to get one custom-made.”

“Nah,” Lex shook his. “That was like half the stuff in the gothic update. So many new items introduced that worked at certain HP values.”

“She has no HP,” Dam13n said. “We’ve all head of her stats at the Dollhouse. It isn’t great.”

Lex looked at Jester, who nodded. “True. Five all up.”

“Wow. Ok, no self damaging.” Lex tapped his glass, a normal coffee mug.

“It’s fine. I know a girl.” Jester paused before tapping out a message to Kylee. He explained the issue and what he needed. No sooner did he hit send, then her green circle greyed out.

“A girl, huh?” Lex laughed. “Does Happy Hour know?”

“Don’t you start.” Jester laughed too, feeling relaxed. There was something chill about Lex.

“Hey man, why not? She’s hot. I can see that.”

Jester blinked, surprised.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on,” Lex shook his head. “I know Dam13n. Besides, I’ve been on the internet long enough. Are you saying she’s not?”

“The metallic looks not really my thing.” Jester shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“Your loss man.”

Dam13n snorted. “Not everyone builds their girlfriends, man.”

Lex flushed at that and turned away. Though Jester could see the smile on his face.

“Anyway,” jester said to change the topic away from whatever this was. “That’s the story. Hopefully, the two will leave each other alone, but I doubt it.”

The conversation flowed for a while, and they consumed more drinks. As the music changed to a song that Arthur knew people described as dark rock, Happy Hour returned.

For a minute, he didn’t recognize her.

His gaze caught on Sascren, and then skipped over the woman standing next to her. His brain seeing another patron that he didn’t know. It wasn’t until he caught the red eyes and saw a hint of the wood paneling that he understood.

“Happy Hour?” He asked, knowing he sounded stupid.

She smiled at him, and he could see a set of plastic fangs.

“Liege of my undead existence,” she purred as she walked forward. Each step caused the bottom of the long gown to sway.

“Absolutely not,” Jester said, eyes noting exactly how tight the outfit looked on her.

Sascren was in hysterics as Happy Hour reached the table and held out a hand. Heavy makeup covered it, making it look abnormally pale.

Jester stared at the hand, and then up at her. She stood still, smiling at him through painted lips. Black, as her hair now was.

He sighed and killed the proffered hand to the full roar of the table.

“My liege. Do you not love the way the night has taken me? How the coldness of my life finally displays on my outer shell?”

“You’re putting it on a little thick.”

“Thick as the enveloping sorrow of those who will stand in the way of our inevitable victory!” She cried out, plonking herself down in a nearby suit. “A vampire coven of one I may be, but with you at my side! We shall drain those machines of their robotic life juices and watch as they struggle.”

Jester locked eyes with Dam13n, who was nodding furiously.

“No.”

“You have to.” Dam13n’s eyes were twinkling. “Imagine mistress of the night here against a dump truck?”

“A dump truck?” Happy Hour said. “One that carried rubbish. Rubbish like my life, my soul. How the eternal years bring such garbage souls in and out of existence.”

Jester was about to reply when a shout came from the doorway. He turned to see a group of avatars standing there.

All Scrappers from the looks of it.

“Jester St’Servo!” The foremost one yelled. “You are under arrest for the crime of theft in the outskirts.”

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