Judge Rico Dredd (
truefaceofthelaw) wrote in
legionworld2017-10-23 10:28 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who| Rico, and anyone!
What| Two different magical shenanigans
Where| All over Legion World
When| During Game of Throne
Warnings/Notes| Rico who's actually nice. Also maybe a ten year old trying really hard to break your arm.
[A: what's going on]
Not long after the wave of magical energy sweeps over Legion World, Rico might be seen making his way around the place, acting rather uncharacteristically for anybody who's interacted with him for longer than two seconds.
Instead of marching through the corridors like a tank and expecting people move out of his way like usual, he's strolling without a single ounce of swagger or arrogance. He greets people he passes, waving to them with a friendly expression that actually seems genuine instead of the usual edge of mockery.
"It's a nice morning, don't you think?"
[B: training exercise?]
Rico wakes up, and this isn't the Academy.
This is absolutely not the Academy.
As soon as he's done processing that, he hurriedly ducks down behind a nearby structure he can't discern the purpose of. He's in some kind of facility, that much is apparent. He pats himself down for his boot knife and lawgiver. Unarmed. Maybe they were testing the cadets to respond in the situation of a kidnapping? But what if this was a kidnapping? Rico thinks it unlikely, considering they'd have to get through the Academy's ironclad defences and surveillance systems, and they've done similar exercises in the past, where they've all been drugged and tossed in the back of a van.
But what was the goal of this one? To remain hidden until he finds a way out? To locate and regroup with his fellow cadets? What's the protocol to follow here?
If this is a test, he can't fail. That much is certain. He can't stay here forever. He has to take the initiative and rescue Joe and the others, if they're here.
So this short, helmeted ten year old is carefully creeping around corners, sticking to nooks and hiding when he hears somebody coming by. At some point during a particularly risky stretch, he starts to hear footsteps coming just around the corner his way. He flattens himself against the wall, tensing up as he hopes that they'll pass him by. Would he really be so lucky?
What| Two different magical shenanigans
Where| All over Legion World
When| During Game of Throne
Warnings/Notes| Rico who's actually nice. Also maybe a ten year old trying really hard to break your arm.
[A: what's going on]
Not long after the wave of magical energy sweeps over Legion World, Rico might be seen making his way around the place, acting rather uncharacteristically for anybody who's interacted with him for longer than two seconds.
Instead of marching through the corridors like a tank and expecting people move out of his way like usual, he's strolling without a single ounce of swagger or arrogance. He greets people he passes, waving to them with a friendly expression that actually seems genuine instead of the usual edge of mockery.
"It's a nice morning, don't you think?"
[B: training exercise?]
Rico wakes up, and this isn't the Academy.
This is absolutely not the Academy.
As soon as he's done processing that, he hurriedly ducks down behind a nearby structure he can't discern the purpose of. He's in some kind of facility, that much is apparent. He pats himself down for his boot knife and lawgiver. Unarmed. Maybe they were testing the cadets to respond in the situation of a kidnapping? But what if this was a kidnapping? Rico thinks it unlikely, considering they'd have to get through the Academy's ironclad defences and surveillance systems, and they've done similar exercises in the past, where they've all been drugged and tossed in the back of a van.
But what was the goal of this one? To remain hidden until he finds a way out? To locate and regroup with his fellow cadets? What's the protocol to follow here?
If this is a test, he can't fail. That much is certain. He can't stay here forever. He has to take the initiative and rescue Joe and the others, if they're here.
So this short, helmeted ten year old is carefully creeping around corners, sticking to nooks and hiding when he hears somebody coming by. At some point during a particularly risky stretch, he starts to hear footsteps coming just around the corner his way. He flattens himself against the wall, tensing up as he hopes that they'll pass him by. Would he really be so lucky?

A: Let's start with this
He tilts his head toward Rico, puzzled, but offers his own wave in greeting. "It has been quite an interesting one for me." Zenyatta gives a small laugh. "How are you feeling?"
This isn't the normal behavior Zenyatta has come to expect from Rico, so he already assumes something is amiss.
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Rico beams as he peers closer at Zenyatta, hands on his hips.
"But before we continue this conversation, I would like to attend to one thing. I don't mean this in any accusatory way, but are you currently inebriated? Public intoxication is only a simple misdemeanor, but I'm concerned for the state of affairs that led to this decision. Are you facing any particular hardships in your life right now, that you might turn to alcohol for escape?"
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"I appreciate your concern, but I have not turned to any kind of drink. I cannot fully control my flying with my ring while in this form. I am far more used to hovering under my own omnic power." Which he hasn't been able to channel since he turned human. Zenyatta doesn't worry that he has lost his power; true self is without form. He feels it will come back once he has gained a balance and mastery of his new form. That will take practice and experience, both of which he's still gaining.
"I am much less precise in my calculations as a human, and I need to rely on my soul to... ah, work on instinct? Would that be the correct way to refer to it?"
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After several revolutions of this, he slows to a stop and clears his throat, whispering hoarsely to Zenyatta as if imparting a secret. "There is such a severe substance abuse problem here in the Legion, it would be a shame to hear that you've fallen into the same trap." Rico shakes his head ruefully. "Especially now that you've been exposed to the full breadth of the unique human experience. Why, I can't possibly imagine how it would feel to taste sugar or alcohol after a lifetime of being denied it." He finishes brightly. "Ecstatic, possibly!"
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Even after Rico has stopped their spinning, the sensation of it continues. Zenyatta's balance is thrown off considerably, and the world shifts. He cannot find a way to recalibrate his balance. He knows that he is floating relatively upright, but his mind, his body wants to continue in the direction they were spinning just seconds before. It only barely registers to him that Rico is talking.
"Excuse me. I..." He puts his hands to his head, a gesture he has seen humans use when their head hurts. It's not the same, but there must be some wisdom and meaning to it. Something that helps. "I think my acceleration and tilt sensors have malfunctioned."
Rico has succeeded in making Zenyatta dizzy.
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Rico reaches up and raps his knuckles on the side of Zenyatta's forehead.
"You'd better get used to the many ways your biological body will betray you! But when somebody's feeling dizzy, I always feel that a crack on the head with a daystick solves it. Or a sit-down! Maybe you need a long sit-down. I think I need one too."
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"Would you like to sit with me? I have yet to meditate since my attempts to when I first transformed into a human, but I think I should be able to now." He turns to face Rico. "And I recall offering to teach you how to meditate."
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He tilts his head to the side, looking just over Zenyatta's shoulder. "Of course I didn't." he mutters thoughtfully to himself. But then he perks up again. "I've been struck by a great idea, actually."
With two fingers pressed to his helmet, he sends a quick, secret burst of info over the frequency range.
... .... ..... ...
"Perfect!" And with that, he dusts his hands off, and bows jauntily at the waist. "Lead the way, my formerly-robot friend."
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"I am happy to help you feel inner peace, even if it was just for a moment." He leads them to an empty lobby. Then, he lowers himself onto a plush couch, legs still crossed. "I would normally bring you to my biome, but I thought this would be more comfortable. Please take a seat."
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A
He paid no particular attention to anyone around him as he swept past but at the sound of Rico's voice, he stopped suddenly. Then turned. "YOU!"
Aku wasted no time in lunging at Dredd, his hand striking out like a viper to capture his throat. Regardless of how thick Rico's neck might be, the demon's hand fully engulfed it. His grip was firm and powerful, clawed fingers aching to crush bone and cartilage beneath. But he did not seek to harm the human. He sought only to make things very uncomfortable for him.
"You will deeply regret your mockery of the Almighty Aku," the demon growled, teeth bared in disdain.
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"If you didn't think it was, all you had to do was say so. Violence is always uncalled for."
His eyes flick down at the hands circling his neck, and he cranes his head to see them better.
"Hm! I did notice you're not a small, four-legged animal with a funny face anymore. I think it's wonderful you found a solution to your predicament!"
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"You? An advocate against violence? PAH!" The deom's breath gusted across Rico's face smelling of burnt wood. "Who do you think you're fooling, Dredd?"
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Rico gives another vacuous smile, and reaches out to grip Aku's shoulder reassuringly gently.
"Why is it that you feel this way? Is there any way I can make amends for my behavior?"
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"Amends, my black mass! You care nothing about 'making amends'. You seek only to fan the conflagration you started!" Here, the demon loomed close and his voice pitched low, somewhere between a growl and a whisper. "If your intention is to have me banished from the Legion, you will fail miserably."
That said, he withdrew his hand suddenly from Rico's throat and turned to leave.
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If Aku thought that signaled the end of their conversation, he thought wrong. Rico side-steps along with him, and matches his pace, still talking. "Where do you think you're going, chum? Not without me, I hope!" he asks cheerfully, yanking Aku in by the shoulder to engulf him in a side hug, crushing him close. Unfortunately, it's the side with the bulky, pointed shoulder pad.
"I feel like I've offended you," he whispers mournfully into Aku's amorphous black mass. "I really have to apologize. Maybe we could go to the mess hall and share a re-conciliatory meal. Are you a fan of mock-chocks in any fashion?"
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Infuriated by the unwanted proximity, the demon brought his fist down hard upon Rico's head. If it weren't for the helmet, he'd have received quite a knock to the cranium.
"You have done more than offend me, Dredd!" Aku was shoving the heel of his hand against the side of Rico's helmet in an attempt to forcefully extract him. "And you CONTINUE to offend me with this foolish play-acting!"
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"Oof! That tickles!" Much like pressing an 'on' button, Rico starts giggling. In a low, baritone voice like his, it might come out a lot more sinister than intended. He tightens his grip like an iron cinch, putting his prodigious upper body strength to good use even as his face is pushed away.
"Are we roughhousing now? Oh, I used to do that all the time with my little brother. Alright mister grouchy, better get ready for some tickles!"
Rico heaves his muscles, and Aku might have a second of warning before he's suplexed. Get ready, Aku. The tickle train is barreling right towards him, and they're only going to stop at fun-town.
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B
He pauses, head tipped in a mute gesture that reads explain.
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Without a single word, he bolts towards him, and attempts to slide between his legs.
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"Hey. Easy," he says.
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"Let go!"
Lunging up at him, he stiffens his hand and tries to jab anything that isn't covered in toughened plate armor in a surprisingly targeted manner, but it's futile and the sinking feeling in his stomach proves it. He's failed.
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"I'm not going to hurt you, I want to know what you're doing."
He's not moving, and unfortunately even the more flexible parts of the Spartan's armor are very hard on the hands.
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His voice bursts out of him, heated and fierce. Of course, besides the fact that he doesn't even know what he's doing here, he swears he won't let a single thing slip. Rico doesn't stop hitting him the whole way, and when it starts to hurt he just balls up his fist and starts slamming it even harder.
"Who are you?"
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Everything about this is horrible and he doesn't know how to fix it.
"...This isn't an interrogation."
It's probably exactly what a person doing an interrogation would say right now. He debates whether or not to grab the kid's arm to stop the hitting, but he's concerned it might get him to hurt himself worse.
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Maybe Rico can provoke him into revealing something. His knuckles are starting to feel a little raw under his gloves, and it's probably just making this Master Chief more angry right now. He should conserve his strength.
"The military are finished. It's over. The White House has been razed, and your President Booth is a popsicle," he says with absolute conviction in his voice. "So consider this chance for you to surrender. Under the ratified wartime law of Mega-City One, the sentence for treason is death."