Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-25389303-20190303151201

''Upload complete. Awakening.''

Streams of data flowed like blood through Tragoedia's new body in a torrent of new information. Each number was like a foreign stimulus the machine had never experienced, and it shuddered slightly as his orange eyes began to glow to life.

The first thing Trago saw was his master smiling up at him. It was a sight that the A.I. had not seen in some time, but it was certainly a welcome one.

"Commander?" Trago enquired, and for the briefest of moments he was surprised at the new sound its audio receivers picked up. His voice was deep, but not as obviously robotic as it was used to. The word seemed to flow naturally, almost as if it had come from a human.

As the milliseconds passed, more and more data arrived, reporting all manner of changes to the A.I.'s new physical vessel. Inclining his humanoid head downwards, Trago watched the form's armoured fingers flex and contract into a fist, noting how the smooth dark-grey plating melded with the green scales that covered the body's synthetic muscles. The lack of claws, spikes and hidden blades was regretable, the machine observed.

Lurching forwards, Tragoedia stepped out of the coffin-like container this form had been transported in, but stumbled down to one knee in the attempt. A noise eerily similar to a growl escaped from his helmet.

''Adjusting to new centre of gravity...Completed. ''

The machine rose to its feet and stepped forward again, doing so perfectly normally this time. Unlike its previous form, the A.I. found itself housed in a body more akin to an armoured suit than a distinctive robotic form - designed to replicate human proportions, save for the familiar lizard-like tail that stretched from its lower back down to the ground. The machine knew from the designs now recorded in its memory banks that from a distance it could pass for a combat-ready faunus - something its 10-foot-tall past form would have struggled with. Not only that, but there was a host of upgrades that the A.I. would look forward to testing.

Eventually, Trago turned back to his master, who was studying him intently with a wide smile.

"You learn quickly," Diaboli noted with a satisfied nod. "Good."

Tragoedia tilted its head slightly to the side - a movement he had learned was associated with confusion. The gap in the A.I.'s memory was something of an issue, considering one of its primariy functions was the effective collection and storage of information. But based on the commander's seemingly relaxed posture, everything appeared to be in order.

And then the shouting started.

It was distant at first, but it quickly rippled down the length of the hall Trago found himself standing in. Cries of alarm and panic filled the air as the cracking of gunfire and the rumbling of explosions echoed down the hallway, and suddenly the room was filled with activity. Around him, men and women began fleeing in the opposite direction to where the sounds of combat could be heard, abandoning their wares while their bolder peers got to work packing up their valuable merchandise. Where previously there had been an air of calm, now there was only chaos.

Instinctively, Tragoedia rushed forward and punched a man who looked as if he was about to stumble into his commander in his hurry to escape the encroaching battle. The metal fist caught the large man square in the jaw, accidentally shattering it, and scattering his blood-covered teeth across the floor.

"What is the situation?" Trago asked the unconscious man's prone body, before realising the uselessness of it. Unapologetically, he turned back to Diaboli. "What is the situation?" he repeated to his commander.

"I'm...not quite sure..." Diaboli replied slowly, a look of mild confusion on his face as he peered curiously at Tragoedia's unfortunate victim. "Sounds like a fight's broken out. Don't worry, this happens from ti--"

His words were cut off as a blaring voice suddenly rose above the chaotic din surrounding them. It was difficult to hear properly, but with his sharpened audio receivers Tragoedia was able to pick out two words.

Mistral Police.

"This location is currently being targeted by the MPD, commander," Trago soon determined, idly silencing the panicked cries of another guest with a chop to the neck as they approached Diaboli's general direction. "Your orders?"

Tutting as if this was another of life's many inconveniences, Diaboli turned to observe the anarchy around him. The distinct sounds of explosions were still somewhat distant, yet the people here seemed to be preparing for the worst. Already, a large crowd had gathered near the far exit, which was now blocked with the press of bodies attempting to surge through it.

"I hadn't expected the police to be mad enough to attack this place," Diaboli said, shaking his head slightly as he spoke before sighing. "What a mess..."

The crime lord turned his head in the opposite direction, towards where the supposed firefight was taking place.

"I'd rather not take our chances if he don't have to," Diaboli quickly decided, his mind no doubt running almost as fast as Tragoedia's at the moment. "There are others likely in the same position as us. Let's see if we can link up with some of them and find a way outta this place."

Snapping his fingers, a series of metal plates suddenly extended from the man's wrist, running down his hand and up his arm in opposite directions until a long tentacle-like whip had formed over the entirety of his left arm. Rolling his shoulders in anticipation, Diaboli glanced at Tragoedia and jerked his head in the direction where the screams were loudest.

"Lead the way, old friend."