"I'm going to follow them," Goodwill said of the other robots, retreating down the tunnel. He was just going to see where they went, and hopefully not engage with them. Fighting a cadre of weird robots was not Goodwill's idea of fun. Neither was getting separated from the others, but there was little he could do about that right now. The robots could not be trusted. "I'll see where they go, then come back."

He rose into the air amid his usual golden glow, and flew after them.

Scraps took off after his human, running along as best he could to keep up with Goodwill.

"Good luck, Goodwill and Scraps!" Ch'rava shouted after the man and dog duo. Quickly turning her attention back to the man in front of her, she shot him a supportive smile.

"There's time enough for whatever you want to say or do here. Even if that's just letting yourself catch your breath and figure things out. Don't feel like you have to tell us anything either. Still, if you need a place to start, where the Doctor might be isn't a terrible one. But if that's not what you want, maybe just talk to us about your day or about any good books you've read lately? I hear Georges Simenon has some good ones."

(Cosmic Girl gets 1 new XP.)

"But... but... I am Doctor Norwood-- I-- I--"



"I d-- I do not-- I do not have time for-- I must return to my experim-- I must rechar-- I mean-- I am Norwood-- He-- He-- CRITICAL LOGIC CASCADE FAILURE... WARNING-- THIS UNIT WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN 5 SECONDS--"

As the man began his meltdown, Lynx's eyes widened. With a wave of her good arm, she shouted "Get back!" to Jules and Cosmic Girl before grabbing the man and attempting to pull him further down the hall, counting every second.

One

"Stay with me, Norwood! You are you!"

Two

Ch'rava studies the man quickly, but she's never been a scientist and there's just no time. For a moment, she imagines that knocking him out might stop the self-destruct, but she has no way of knowing if that would actually help or make things worse. But she doesn't know what else to do and-

Three

"I'm sorry."

Four

She reels back her fist and decks the man in the face,

White Lynx rolled 6 using 2d6 with rolls of 1,5.  Knock out the doctor? Forceful.

Five

but it was the wrong fist.

BOOOOM

(White Lynx takes 3 stress and gets 1 xp.

This is not White Lynx's day week month?)




Meanwhile, Goodwill and Scraps find that the other robot Norwoods all stay together, running/rolling/lurching as a herd, always taking the largest tunnel available. If there's a choice between multiple tunnels, they always choose whichever one leads down instead of up-- if that's a tie, they choose whichever one seems less well-lit.

A loud BOOM is heard, distantly, and they come to a stop, finally, waiting to see what this may portend.

Goodwill and Scraps also stop when it seems the herd up ahead has stopped... they seem clearly nervous, though, and liable to flee again if provoked.

Cosmic Girl knew that White Lynx could get away from the problem better than anybody else could. She was mostly interested in her own safety. It was therefore with consierable urgency that she chased after Goodwill and Scraps, flaring up her aura shield, and hoping like heck she could get out of range of whatever nastiness she had just caused the Norwood to inflict upon them. When would she learn? Talking was not her strong suit!

She almost flew into the back of her friends, and came to a stop a foot or so from doing so. Which was just as well. Slamming into people with her aura up was a very good way to ruin their day.

She peers over Goodwill's shoulder. "What are they doing? They don't seem very dangerous right now?"

Or so she hoped...

Following a pack of insane androids through the sewers had begun to get so creepy that Goodwill nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice behind him. He counted to five in his head before he responded.

"No, they don't," he agreed. "But we don't know that they don't — I don't know — explode? Shoot rays out of their eyes?"

He sighed. There was nothing he could do except try to communicate with them, and hope for the best. It was either that or just start smashing... and that seemed particularly wrong, somehow.

"Hey, guys," he said, slowly approaching the pack. "Can we talk?"

They retreat a few steps, but not very far. One with a robotic, inhuman-looking face slowly asks: "...What do you want, meddler?"

Lynx was blown back from the man, crashing into the floor. Covered in bits of robotic Norwood, she stared at the ceiling.

Why? She felt like she had just gotten through to him. How was it that, just after she failed to kill the man, he just went and died anyway?

Ch'rava didn't feel right here. She hadn't felt right since she'd landed on this planet, but now she just felt useless and broken. Trying to sit up, she found herself with not nearly enough strength to support herself with just her right arm. The best she could manage was raising her back slightly above the ground before falling back down. Gingerly trying to move her left in a sorry attempt at giving herself just a little more push, she found that she couldn't move the arm at all. Looking down at the arm, she found it hard to believe the blood-soaked appendage was really hers. To be perfectly frank, it wasn't. Here she was, a proud Brin scout, stuck in a human shell, lying on the ground.

If she couldn't kill a soul or save them, what good was she?

Trying her legs, Ch'rava found that she could move them well enough and began pushing against the ground. Inch by inch, she pushed herself back into a wall. She didn't have enough in her to stand, but if she got to the wall, she might be able to lean against it. Finally, she made it, using the little leverage she had to pull herself into a leaning position. With a heaving breath, she took in the room around her.

"We want Norwood. The real Norwood." Goodwill  hoped he was going to be able to have a conversation here without it turning to violence, but these robots certainly seemed antagonistic. "Beyond that, we want everybody to be safe."

(Ooh, time for a (new) Charming roll...)

Charming: Goodwill rolled 9 using 2d6+1 ((4,4)).

"...He-- I mean I... I..." The robot frowns. "...The person you're looking for isn't down here right now as far as we know. We-- we do have other bases of operations, though... Do you know about the facility on Staten Island...?" The robot's final tone is smug, like Ah-ha! Bet you didn't know about THAT, did you?!?!?!

"Actually, we've been there," Goodwill said plainly. Smug robots. Who knew? "It was a bust.

"Where else can we try?"

"Oh." They seem sad about not getting to be smug about that, but they also seem at least as sad about realizing they're out of the loop. "Hold on."

They all huddle together and whisper amongst one another (and beep and boop and click and whir and stuff).

Then the one Goodwill's been talking to comes back to the forefront. "...All right, we'll tell you another place that's likely," he says. "But first... you have to promise to let us go after we tell you. We don't want to be disassembled nor destroyed. You're do-gooders, so we know you're the type who always have to keep your promises..."

"You're right. If I make a promise, I keep it." Goodwill was raised better than to lie. And he had a reputation to uphold, even if it was with a group of semi-defective androids. He didn't know if these machines were truly harmless, but they seemed to want to be left alone more than anything else. Norwood, on the other hand, was a clear and present danger to everyone. So the decision was an easy one. "And I promise I'll let you go if you help me out now. Where else can we look for the real Norwood?"

"Too right!" Cosmos said, quietly. She really did not fancy taking on all these androids in this small confined environment. One misplaced cosmic blast, and they could have tons of masonry down on their heads. And while some of them were functionally immortal, she was pretty sure being crushed flat would not do her any good whatsoever...

"...Up in Inwood, at the very top of Manhattan, near 10th avenue and 207th street, in the trainyard, there's a train. The official papers say the engine is defunct and that it's slated to be scrapped but that legal and financial issues have delayed that. But it's really a mobile laboratory... I worked on preparing it."

"Well so did I!" "So did I!" "So did I!" "It's not like I didn't!" the other Norwoods complain...

Looking around the room, Ch'rava saw a mess of blood and machinery. There was nothing that particularly resembled the man that she had just punched. She hadn't been able to stop the self-destruction even one bit.

Slumped against the wall, she looked down to judge the condition of her own body. Bruised and battered on the whole with more than enough gashes to make physical contact sting, but it wasn't anything that Lynx couldn't recover from with good care. Her right arm felt somewhat weak, but she could still manage to move it well enough. Her already injured left arm wasn't doing so hot, as she couldn't even feel it, though that may have been a blessing in disguise. That arm's hand looked especially mangled, with a couple of fingers bending the wrong way. Ch'rava was never quite sure what the right way was to deal with the human body, but she assumed that it would be a bad idea to leave it like that. Carefully, she bent each limp finger roughly back into its proper position.

Once her task was complete, she set about trying to get back onto her feet, but she could only seem to manage to get her back partway up the wall. With a good push, she might be able to stand long enough to regain her footing, but if she failed, it would be back to lying on the floor. Her right arm was still together enough that she could grab a hold of something and raise herself back up, but it didn't look like there was anything in the immediate vicinity to do so with. Well, it wasn't like she even felt like she was all together, so maybe she missed something? Or perhaps there was a good pipe buried underneath some of the parts and blood?

White Lynx rolled 11 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 4,6.  Look Before You Leap/Try to Get Up. Insightful.
--Where is something I can use to help?
--What should I be on the lookout for?
--Who is in danger?

White Lynx sees no indications of danger to herself nor anyone else.

(Go ahead and find some mundane object to help-- something that would make a good crutch, I suppose...?

As for "being on the lookout for" and "danger," I've got nothing in particular right now, but give yourself +1 in dealing with danger or clues the next time they come up...)

On the one hand, there was no one around to help. But blessedly, there was no one around to finish her off either. Slowly, Ch'rava ran her eyes across the room, looking for something that could help her up or support her, but it seemed like anything that could work was too far up. Shifting around to get a better look at a nearby pile of scrap, she felt it. Right under her legs, there was a long, metal rod. It was somewhat thick and looked as though it was meant to be held in two hands. The rod also looked very much like the one that had served as the handle to the trident from before. Maybe a spare, or another attempt at recreation? Or perhaps it was just a similar pole. Ch'rava was too tired to let herself get caught up in the possibilities.

Using the impromptu walking stick as leverage, Lynx managed to push herself up onto her feet in a standing position. Holding onto it for a moment, the heroine steadied herself.

Good. She was on her feet again. Lynx still felt like she could collapse from exhaustion at any point, but she could move around again. Technically, she didn't really need the pole any longer, but there was no telling whether or not she'd fall down again. Not to mention how she might've misjudged the strength in her legs. In any case, she needed to head on. If the others needed to backtrack to find her, they might lose their chance at finding the Norwood replicas. She just hoped that Cosmos and Jules had managed to make their way ahead without too much pain.

"Thanks!" Goodwill said with obvious sincerity. "Is there anyplace else I should possibly be looking, or is that it?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh... scatter!" says the spokesrobot, and the robots make a run for it again.

(They don't really scatter very well... they seem to have a herd mentality, being most comfortable amongst their own kind.)

Were they running from Goodwill, or did something spook them? Goodwill tensed for an attack, looking around in all directions.

He clenched his fists super-hard to make sure his glow lit the tunnel as well as possible.