Mechanical Mayhem [Vio]

[Konaa]

To say the least, Loguetown was a fairly constant place, or at least it had been for the entirety of Konaa's life. He couldn't pick anything about this particularly day that stood out from the countless others he'd spent wandering the back alley streets and hearing the sounds of commerce and rowdiness bombard him from all sides. It smelled the same - all sorts of exotic foods blending together with the scent of the sea to create a unique mix - and it felt the same, warm and sunny as ever. Absentmindedly peeling an orange as he went about his patrol route, the young recruit was almost completely deaf to the world around him, the general atmosphere of Loguetown simply too familiar to even grab his attention any more.

Call me crazy, but is this finally getting too boring to stand?

It'd been some time since he last saw Aluco Striggs. She'd been promoted. Some big deal after that crazy pirate attack a while ago - Apparently while he'd been hiding, she'd caught the big baddie and earned herself a tidy promotion and a transfer out of B-3. Whereas he had...dispatched a goon or two, panicked, ran for cover and faked an injury to avoid court-martial or worse. Luckily enough, nobody seemed to take enough notice of him to think twice of that story, and they were likely more busy repairing the damage than anything else.

Of course I ran. I'm not some psycho like Striggs. I'm a normal guy, and these damn Marines expect way too much out of me. Who cares about Justice if it means getting yourself killed for no reason? I don't like pirates any more than the next guy, but someone else can handle them. Just let me do the grunt work in peace...

Unfortunately, that simply wasn't the era they lived in. Pirate attacks were more frequent than ever - The ambition of the youthful criminals running at record heights. As time passed, Konaa was realizing exactly what Marines were called upon to do, why they were considered necessary. And just how out of his depth he was. Both times he'd found himself forced against his will to live up to the symbol he wore - first with Aluco's nighttime excursions and later with the Moonsilver Pirates' attack - Konaa had folded under the pressure. He simply...didn't want to die. There was no shame in that, or - So he kept telling himself.

So why couldn't he, who had never cared a whit what anyone else had to say to him, shake the accusations of that strange, other Aluco from his mind? It bothered him to know that he was a "disgrace." Unbelievably, it truly did bother him. And the fact that it bothered him also bothered him! Frankly, he was a mess at this point, even though he kept his outward stoicism up as much as possible.

Grunting, Konaa cut through an alley off the main road as soon as he saw an officer approaching from the opposite direction, in no mood to bandy words and fake respect. Now there was an aspect of Marine life he had no shame in being a failure at. At any rate, he just needed to keep his head down and out of the limelight for the next, oh, twenty years. Shouldn't be a problem, right? Right?

Even as the thought crossed his mind, the teen felt his gut twinge, a sinking feeling emerging. Something tells me I just wasn't born that lucky...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The harbor was as busy as ever, in spite of the damage the Moonsilver pirates had caused. One particular ship, however, stood out - a vessel with the mark of the World Government. That in itself wasn't too unusual, save for the logo of the Research Division it carried in addition, but this ship was less than pristine - the deck and upper cabin bearing the brunt of what looked to be cannon fire. Someone with the audacity to raid one of the ships of the world's greatest authority - now that was a unusual sight.

Several of the Marines and government officials emerging from the vessel were injured, sporting bandages and a sling or two - with a few severe cases being carried out on stretchers. This might've called attention away from the three crates being offloaded - large ones, at least seven feet tall. They were placed on the edge of the pier, a squad of men from B-3 keeping the perimeter clear of civilians as the ship's commander and a local Lieutenant saluted one another nearby.

"Damned pirates knew what we were carrying. They sent in a boarding party and went straight for them. Had to do some emergency repairs even while we were taking on water..."

"But they are operational?"

"Yes, yes. Except CX-155. We saw one of those sea rats tugging on a few of its wires, and what with the seawater leaking in - Well, we need to do another diagnostic. We can't have the squad's leader malfunction mid operation, it'd be a disaster. CX-153 and 154, though, are ready for deployment."

The Lieutenant tugged at his collar, shooting a somewhat nervous glance toward the battered crates, at the partially exposed cargo within. "What, um, what sort of malfunction-"

The research commander snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't fret, Lieutenant. They'd never attack an innocent or a Marine. It's just that severe tampering with the head area may result in some slight priority reassessments. It may stop following orders for a time, or more specifically, interpret an older order under a higher authority than it actually held. Priorities could possibly be shuffled about. Not severe, but - Still, we don't want them operating at anything less than 100%. Now, we have the equipment to diagnose 155 here, but we'd like your help transporting the other two to B-3, for now."

The Marines set to work, wheeling two of the three containers off up the winding streets toward the fort overseeing the town. The remaining crate stood in place for the moment as the guard about the vessel diminished...The vaguest outline of a white mask visible through the damaged cracks.

[Vio]

Of all the places to end up, it just happened to be Loguetown, the base of operations for all Marine activity in the East Blue. Walking steadily through the back streets of the city, a strange girl wandered aimlessly along a path that she was not even sure she should be following. Standing very nearly six foot tall with rich blonde hair cascading down over her shoulders, there was something off about this woman as she walked on. Upon her back she carried a circular shield of copper colouration, marked with steely silver protrusions around the edge that resembled the squared teeth of a gear. Upon the outsides of her black boots were similar cog-shaped structures of smaller size and colour, though what purpose they served was yet to be made clear. For now, they were simply just decoration to accompany her rather moth-bitten garments.

"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-" Turning a corner, this mysterious girl encountered something new. Stairs. A paved set of steps that descended from the back streets of island and down towards the busier parts of town. Timing her steps as she descended one at a time, her footsteps rather erratic and jarring like a baby taking their first, the young woman announced her steps in a broken and distinctly artificial female voice. That's correct, this girl was not a girl at all, but rather something that occurs rarely in this world. A robot. A completely mechanical entity designed for specific tasks, though this Clockwork Soldier had now fallen into a state of disrepair. She had emerged from a rickety old shack somewhere in the hills of this island, having spent what would seem like an eternity in a state of slumber. Her programming had decayed, as too had her body, but she was definitely not of East Blue origin. Hailing from a distant land known as Xelor, this robot had arrived on the Polestar Islands several years ago after being smuggled out from her homeland. Everything about this place was new to her, not just because she had been inactive for so long, but because she was completely unfamiliar with architecture outside of the Xelorian style. Used to seeing massive gears and sophisticated clockwork technology, what her unblinking eyes now took in was nothing of the sort. Simple white stone buildings standing two or three stories tall, with the occasional large four or five story building mixed among them, covered everything within her view. Intricate stone paving slabs covered the streets in distinctive curved patterns, the whole place seemed clean and tidy, yet bustling with life. At least it shared that much in common with her home.

"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-" Reaching the bottom of the staircase after a good minute or two of taking one step at a time, the mechanical maiden now found herself in a much more lively section of town. All around her people milled and moved about with the daily business, greeting each other as the passed by and generally taking everything for granted. It was an odd situation, but after escalating attacks by pirate crews - the most recent of which being the Moonsilver Pirates - it was only understandable that the people could shrug it off once trouble had passed. For the Clockwork Soldier, this was not the case. Not only did she have no basic concept of what a pirate was, but her faded memories had left painfully large gaps in her protocols. It was the equivalent of amnesia, but the key difference was that a robots lost memories had to be rebuilt rather than remembered.

Ignoring the occasional glances she drew from passers by, she plodded along with a regular pace, pausing for just the shortest period of time after every few steps to give her internal mechanisms a chance to rewind. To be fair, most people were drawn to the state of her clothing, her inner workings concealed by a layer of synthetic skin. Even the parts of her that were no longer sheathed by this plastic coat were hidden from plain sight by the fabric of her dress and boots. In fact, the only really visible mechanics were those of her right hand, brassy digits with some blue-green oxidisation visible to those willing to give a glance in the right direction. Suffice to say, nobody seemed to have taken note of the girl's rather unusual extremities.

"Excuse me, Miss. Are you... Alright?" A middle-aged man approached, his fashion sense consisting of baby blue shirt and black trousers, asking a question that one would have assumed simple enough to answer. Stopping in place and looking at the man with yellow and rather realistic eyes, the clockwork girl remained motionless for a moment. Her gaze was somewhat cold and unnerving, bolstered by the fact that she never blinked nor moved her eyes. The gentleman returned her stare, an unfamiliar look upon his face that the average person could recognise as one of concern. Then she spoke.

"Mi-i-"

"Huh? Y-yes, you? W-wait. You spoke... But your mouth? It didn't move!?" Surprised as any average man would be, the concern in his voice was now replaced with a more cautious tone. Fair enough, but the Clockwork Soldier did not even recognise such things. In fact, she barely understood the words he had said to her and was merely responding to what few things she could distinguish. For some baser reason, she had interpreted 'Are you' as him asking her who she was. That was a question to which she had no viable answer, so she had responded with what she knew. She was herself. That was not all she did, however, for a childish curiosity took a hold of her. Raising her left hand, the one still covered by the smooth plastic skin, she extended her arm and pressed her palm against the man's chest as if attempting to push him away. He recoiled, likely uncertain of what she was attempting to do, but she remained there with arm outstretched. Now her focus was upon the peculiar extension of herself with she held in front of her, thus beginning to experiment with moving it as if she had no clue such a part of her body even existed. Peculiar.

"Mi-i-" Finally getting a grasp of herself, completely ignoring the man as he and a handful of others stared at her from various corners of the street, the synthetic warrior raised her right arm and held her hands in front of her face. This, of course, was the catalyst for panic. Not for her, but for everyone else. The exposure of a skeletal metal hand was enough to send shivers down the spines of all those who could see it, but as her sleeve rolled down slightly to expose yet more of her skeletal bronze framework it provoked a couple of frightened screams. Too busy comparing her own hands to notice, by the time the Clockwork Soldier lowered them everyone seemed to have vanished. Half a street had pretty much been evacuated, many terrified eyes staring at her from behind closed curtains. East Blue was not exactly the forefront of modern science, so one could expect people to panic when faced with the new and unusual. Lowering her hands to her sides, their sleeves mostly concealing them, the artificial entity took a moment to look around at the empty street before wandering off again. This time, though she did not know it herself, she began to trek towards the port...

[Blaka]

Antonio Pensatore was on vacation this month. He had decided to leave his West Blue Home and venture the 4 Blues a bit. There were quite a lot of spots he wanted to see around the world. His first destination was the East Blue - home to quite a few big names: Great Marine Hero Monkey D. Garp, the leader of the revolution Monkey D. Dragon, the Pirate Emperor "Red-Haired" Shanks and - most importantly - Gol D. Roger, the late pirate king.
Naturally, the first island he landed on was Logue Town - the island where everything began. The main reason for coming here first was its location on the map, right next to the Red Line, easy to reach.

The Warrant Officer had just arrived yesterday night and caught as much sleep as possible in a local inn before heading out. When the middle-aged Marine stepped into the busy streets of Logue Town the sun was already standing high in the sky.
As always, he was wearing the same clothes he would normally wear on duty: A white button up shirt, the sleeves of which were alway rolled up, under a black sleeveless three button vest. He put his hands in the pockets of his beige pants and just started walking along with the crowd. There had to be some kind of tourist information bureau around the docks. Afterall, this town was probably the most popular place in the whole East Blue. As his expensive black leather shoes carried him through the streets, the Tony's brain was taking in everything he saw.

For over twenty years, Loguetown was a symbol of peace now. The behavior of the citizens mirrored that. Rarely was there a grimm face around, everyone seemed generally happy. Even though the pirate situation around the world had gotten worse and worse for the last two years since the Marine's victory over the dangerous Whitebeard, the Marines of Loguetown were doing a good job of holding their ground. Every pirate crew in the East looking to prove themselves by hitting the Grand Line came through here, so the Marines really had to step up. But apparently, they managed to do a good job so far. Tony had seen a lot of islands in his career so far whose civilisation had crumbled under far less pressure.

The closer he got to the harbour, the more the streets filled up with people. If he wanted to get anywhere today, the blonde broad-shouldered chemist would have to take a different route. At least leaving the crowd would be easy, one of the many perks of his stature. Despite his annoyance at the hold up, he kept a friendly face and started gently pushing people aside. As the polite man he was, he always made sure to leave a clear "Sorry, would you let me through please" or "Excuse me madam, can you...yes, thank you." behind. It didn't take long for Tony to find an alleyway crossing the main street. This one was completely empty so he could pick up his pace and find a less busy road to the port. Luckily, the alleyway opened into exactly what he was looking for at the end.

Before he could reach said less busy road however, he heard a couple of people scream from where he was headed.
Great! Not even an hour had passed and already he was given the opportunity to observe some potentially interesting behavior of Loguetown citizens.
With honest excitement, he hurried towards the alley's exit. A couple of people were running in the opposite direction, apparently very afraid of whatever just happened. Tony chose to ignore them in favour of his curiosity. Turning the corner, he discovered - a girl.

She was standing alone in the street, a young woman in a black and white longsleeve dress and long golden hair that was falling down her back. At first, Tony could see nothing unusual about the situation, at least nothing people could have been that afraid of. Still, he stayed behind his corner, only peaking with one eye to see if he could detect anything strange.
For a moment, she was just standing there, turning her head to look around. Something about her was off, other than the fact that she was either in shock or completely unfazed by the reactions she had just created.
Then, without warning, she started walking forward all of the sudden. 'Walking' as in she moved by first moving her right leg, then her left, then her right. But it looked completely different to the way most humans moved around. It felt clunky, as if she needed to pause every once in a while to recover or maybe was on some sort of drug and afraid of falling. In any case, it was probably smart to appear friendly and calming to this person. He couldn't see signs of a fight anywhere but it was possible that she attacked someone out of the blue. Clearly she wasn't in the healthiest state of mind. His right hand on the gun in his holster and his other one still in his pants' pocket, he walked casually out of his cover, now standing in the way of the girl, maybe 3 meters between them.
"Hello young lady!" Tony greeted her with a jovial tone in his voice. "Are we alright?" On closer inspection he noticed that her clothes were rather old, multiple holes revealed frequent exposure to moths. There was still no explanation to what provoced the panic just now. "My name is Antonio Pensatore. You can call me Tony." he continued "We look like we could use a little help, may I ask your name?"

[Vio]

SPOILER: Click to show

One step. Two steps. Three. It took a good five seconds before the Clockwork Soldier readjusted to the rhythm of walking, much like an infant who was just getting to grips with what seemed like such an easy operation. One foot had to land firmly upon the street before she even attempted to move the other, taking each step with a curious degree of caution which made her gait somewhat unstable. To the observer it may have seemed like she was sleepwalking, or perhaps under the influence of alcohol, but such things were not possible for a being whose body was mostly metal. Still, unbeknownst to her, countless sets of eyes stared at her in fear. Fear of the unknown was perhaps one of the most overwhelming of all, bravery defined by a willingness to take that step forward and make discoveries. This 'girl' did not possess such human concepts as fear or courage, however. She was far more interested in what was immediately in front of her, more so because she had completely forgotten about what had just happened.

"Hello, young lady!" Strange sounds reached the woman's ears, but at first she did not register them and continued to amble along, taking another two steps before finally stopping around two metres away from the figure that had spoken. Head shifting up about thirty degrees in one slightly stiff motion, the synthetic soldier's yellow eyes looked towards the mysterious being, at first entirely uncertain of what she was looking at. Then again, was she ever certain about things? What she saw was another human, standing taller than herself, for she was currently looking directly at his golden beard. She paused and waited, pulling her legs together so that she was standing properly, rather than balancing precariously on her already wobbly limbs. Then, with a second stiff movement, she raised her head an additional few degrees so that she was starting directly at the gentleman. As per usual, her slow and steady processing took several seconds to absorb all the details presented and convert them into a language she could understand. Had he asked her a question? If he had, she was not aware of it.

"You can call me Tony," said the man, introducing himself to her and speaking in a rather calm and friendly manner. Such things as tone of voice were ignored, however, in favour of simple translations. Not everything he said was being taken in the the artificial person, but the Clockwork Soldier was at least understanding some of what he was saying, even if her translations were severely distorted. It was like speaking into a microphone with interference; words came through in bursts, some distorted while others were crisp and clear. His last question was completely ignored by the girl, who instead just stood there for a few seconds and stared at him, never once blinking or moving. Almost as if she had been frozen in time...

~~~~~

Meanwhile, not too far away from the meeting of unknown faces, something began to stir from its state of slumber. The Cazador unit known as CX-155 opened its eyes quite suddenly, awakening from the unconsciousness that its fellow cyborgs had been placed in for transportation. They were still living beings, in the broadest sense of the term; men who had suffered severe injuries in battle and yet still wished to fight, their bodies repaired through the use of technology in order to create efficient combat units. This was the first squad of Cazadors to be shipped to the East Blue, further reinforcing the defenses of the bustling city against the forces of pirates. This particular entity, damaged in transit, was suffering from something akin to amnesia induced by concussion.

"Hey, what's with the banging down there?" Called one of the officers of the ship, leaning over the railings and glaring down at the guards who currently formed a perimeter around that section of the port. Some of them turned to look up, others glanced about, uncertain of where the noise was coming from. It sounded like something hammering against the side of a ship, a repetitive thudding. And then it happened, the source of the noise revealing itself as the container housing the cyborg was smashed open from the inside, scattering fragments of wood and sawdust all about. The strange masked entity stepped free of its confines, glancing down at its own two hands before staring towards the streets of the town before it.

"Oi! How'd you get out? Ain't you supposed to be asleep or something?" One of the guarding POs quizzed, staring back at the creature and moving to intercept its path as it moved forward. The Cazador stopped for a moment, looking down at the officer before reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, applying a little force to shift him to the side as it marched on. As far as this being was concerned, it was under direct orders to patrol the area in search of illegal activities and, by extension, shut them down. Progressing just a little farther, several other Marines trying and failing to reason with it, the cyborg eventually just broke out into a swift run through the streets...

~~~~~

"Mi-i-" Said the Clockwork Soldier, her voice tinny and steady, a copper cylinder inside her head twisting as needles plucked at the protrusions to generate sound. It was primitive, syllabic and rather similar to the mechanics of a music box. There were only so many syllables that this robotic female could say in one go, but she had yet to come close to that limit, still adjusting to the control of her mechanical body. Raising her left, coated hand, she held it up to the side of her face, now a little more aware of who she was and when people were referring to her.

"To- To-" She added, releasing the numerous bits of gadgetry in her left arm and causing it to flop to her flank once more, now raising her right arm again with a few metallic clicks. The dull shine of copper and bronze was caught by the sunlight as metallic fingers were extended, the shifting of her sleeve exposing the skeletal hand once more and showing the signs of aging where metal turned from orange to blue-green. A small but sturdy wire was pulled by mechanisms further down her arm, closing some of her digits until just her index and middle fingers remained straight. She stalled again, her internal mechanisms winding themselves up again in order to empower her movements, giving several seconds of silence in which the gentleman could respond. The entity's extended arm quivered slightly, twitching on occasion as the devices within stretched and strained. Finally, she spoke again;

"To-ni- To-ni- To-ni- To-ni-" Chanted the robot girl, reciting the kind person's name over and over, demonstrating that she at least understood the purpose of names. Though, did she not have a name of her own? That was something she could not seem to conceive...

[Blaka]

SPOILER: Click to show

www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=8dGe2wFr32E

Immediatly Tony saw that this wasn't a normal human being. Her movements as she looked at him were way too stiff and jerky. Even the usually very self-controlled soldier couldn't help but noticing a cold shiver running down his back as he watched her. It was the face that was off-putting, beautiful and smooth, big yellow eyes looking at him, always smiling. That was the thing though: She looked like her face was frozen in that state, maybe wearing a mask. She didn't blink either, her big yellow eyes kept glaring at him without even a twitch of the pupils. Was that why she walked so slowly? She couldn't see under that thing?

Inspite of the creepy picture in front of him, Tony made sure to keep up his friendly appearance. The two stood there in the middle of the empty street for a few seconds while the Marine's mind was racing. Something seriously messed up happened to the woman in front of him, that was for sure. He had seen his fair share of sick criminals who traumatized their victims and let them go instead of killing them to have someone spread the word. If that really was a mask on her face, the skin looked awfully realistic. He forcibly stopped his trail of thought there, otherwise the look on his face really would slip away.
Instead, he noticed how the woman just kept standing there while he was watching her. She didn't say a word. She didn't move. Did she even breathe? Normally Tony instantly knew what kind of person he had in front of him or at least had a notion. But this one couldn't be read at all. He couldn't feel any hostile intentions from her but then again he couldn't read her at all. Carefully, he tried again.
"Is everything alright?", he repeated, a little louder now, resisting the urge to wave his hand in front of her face. "Can you hear me?"

All of the sudden, she made a sound.
"Mi-i"
That was definetly not a noise human's made. It sounded like someone said "Me" in a microphone and a broken speaker spit everything out all completely distorted.
This made even him flinch and back up a step. She hadn't moved an inch, not even her mouth. Suddenly, it hit him: The Marine chemist had heard of the high-tech programs the Science Departments of the Headquarter were running for a few years now. The Pacifista that came out of that even played a major part in the victory against the Whitebeard Pirates two years ago so everyone was at least familiar with it.
But this one didn't look like a Combat Unit at all to him. Or a Marine for that matter. Maybe a unit made for Cipherpole? If so, what in the world was going on in Loguetown that an obviously broken secret service robot was wandering around town without surveillance? A drop of fear got mixed into the normally calm sea of Tony's emotions. Just maybe this was a little much for him. He took a couple of more steps back. Before he could think of any more measures, the female - or whatever it was - did another unexpected thing.

In weird, jerky motions, she raised her hands, one to the side of her face, the other one pointing at the man in front of her. Said man tried to keep a calm face but couldn't tell anymore if he succeeded or not. His eyes widened as they fell upon her right. Previously hidden by her clothes, the metallic skeleton presented itself.
"To- To-" made the machine. Then she paused again.
Mr. Pensatore took the time to take a couple of more steps back while trying to figure out if this was a hostile move or not.
Unsure, he raised his left hand as a defensive measure in between the metal finger and his own face. His right was still firmly placed on his holster should he need it.
"Woah careful there!", he pleaded "I am a Marine Warrant Officer, Antonius Pensatore! We are on the same side!"
Instead of attacking however, the blonde just continued to talk. Or rather chant.
"To-ni- To-ni- To-ni- To-ni-"

Somewhat relieved, the Marine with the golden beard put his hand down. "Yes. Tony."
It was quite obvious that this wasn't even a cyborg. Or a Cipherpole Unit in action. For that she was processing information far too slow and was way too stiff to even act as a spy among citizens. He hadn't heard of anyone other than the Marines employing such technology but if this one had been with the Government once it couldn't be more than a discarded prototype.
Still - a walking talking computer was quite fascinating, as slow as it might be. Judging by her skeletal hand and the state of her clothes she had nobody that looked after her. Her existence in Tony's immediate vicinity meant two things:
The first thing were countless questions that formed in his head. How much was this life worth? Was this even a life Did she even realise who she was? How would she behave in hundreds of imaginary scenarios that popped into his mind? Usually these questions were difficult to answer properly with normal human beings as everyone was different and it was hard to figure out the tiny nuances that lead to bigger end results. Hell, it was hard to get people into different scenarios to begin with without them noticing his intentions. But with a robot, a simple one like this even, this wouldn't be a problem.
And there was the second thing. Here, on vacation, he had all the time in the world to find answers to every single one of these questions as he had a test subject right in front of him.

The Warrant Officer grinned internally. Oh how he loved opportunities like this! If he could get her to follow him, the two of them would be able to take the sight-seeing walk to the plaza, like he had originally planned his day. On the way he would be able to observe her behavior more closely and come up with ways to make some of his more interesting tests a reality.
Easier done than said.
"Why don't you", he pointed first at her, then at himself, speaking very loudly and slowly to be audible over her chanting "Follow me?"
"To-ni- To-ni- To-ni- To-ni-"
"You - Follow - me." He repeated his motion
"To-ni- To-ni"
"Sigh....You - Follow - me."

[Vio]

SPOILER: Click to show

"To-ni- To-ni- To-ni-" the Clockwork Soldier continued to chant with her mechanical voice, otherwise remaining motionless as she pointed at him with her outstretched arm. There was really nothing else for her to do, not that she was actually able to comprehend that fact, her artificial intelligence having deteriorated so heavily over the idle years. And so, with many cautious stared still being sent her way from curious citizens that had begun to emerge from houses and shops once more, she kept on chanting the gentleman's name. After a moment, it was the Warrant Officer who spoke up, attempting to speak over her own voice. But the robot girl did not hear him at first, or to be more precise, she did not process exactly what he had tried to say. His words had been lost in translation, coming through to her artificial ears as little more than slight vibrations.

"To-ni-" Added the artificial entity, her chant beginning to slow down steadily as her mechanical mind started to take note of the slight changes. Several long seconds passed by as Mister Pensatore did his best to convey his meaning to her, but she paid little attention to anything but her own pointless babbling. It was not as if she was trying to imprint his name in her memory. Or was she? Reciting words and phrases to oneself was a trick that many humans would use to remember important information, but a name as simple as 'Tony' should not have been an issue. Right? Well, it was hard for anybody to say, really.

"You. Follow. Me," the officer repeated, his words accompanied once more by the motions of his hand. Finally the tinny chanting fell short, the synthetic warrior's voice coming to a halt. Once more she seemed frozen in time, the gears and such inside her body steadily rewinding themselves through a complex but clever transferal of mechanical energies. It was like a clock that wound itself up, but now was one such period of rest. Plenty of time for her more sophisticated systems to process the information she had received, her eyes having recorded the gestures and her ears having taken in the sounds. Silence clung to the air, broken only by the subtle distant whispers of civilians as they muttered to one another, observing the situation from a distance and refusing to do anything more than give the odd girl a wide berth.

"Mi-i-" She began, withdrawing her hand and folding her elbow so that the sleeve of her dress rolled down once more, revealing the mixture of metallic pieces that comprised her skeleton-like forearm. Adjusting her fingers so that her hand was open again, she held it in front of her chest with her palm facing her, then paused for a moment. Of all the things she had done since waking up from her 'coma', putting together a basic sentence was perhaps the most complex of all, and so the peculiar being attributed all of her processing ability towards a seemingly simple task.

~~~~~

"Sir, we have a problem!" Exclaimed one of the guards from the docks, saluting towards the Ensign as he descended the gangplank of the transport vessel and arrived upon the docks. A man of relatively tall stature, Ensign Nicholls was not just an officer, but also one of the many men who served at Marine Base G-6, the base of operations for Project CAZADOR and the cybernetic soldiers that were created there. His hair was jet black and cut short, rather spiky around the sides of his head while flat at the front and on top. Dark eyes stared at the guardsman, the look on his face explaining that the problem at hand was rather obvious to all.

"I'm well aware of the problem. Why aren't you chasing after it!?" He barked, casting his eyes to each and every one of the guards on duty. It was true that the number of men present was not all that large, but it was more than enough to send a party out in search of the rogue CX-155. It couldn't have been that hard, could it? Well, from Nicholls' own perspective, it apparently was. None of the men had reacted properly, not a one taking the initiative. None of them were yet cut out for promotion, it seemed, and so the officer sighed.

"Look, the five of you, just go out there and track down the Cazador. It's not like it's going to attack you; it probably just thinks it's doing the right thing. Get going! Don't come back until you've found it!" Nicholls roared, the recruits all saluting him before hastily marching off into town on the trail of the cyborg. "Idiots! Even that Cazador is smarter than them..."

~~~~~

"To-ni- fu-o-ro- M-i-" Clockwork said slowly, pointing back towards the bearded officer with her exposed hand, her gestures clunky and stiff as usual. For the first time since her awakening, at least as far as she was aware, the robot girl had managed to construct a sentence. By now it was no secret that her ability to speak was extremely limited, her previous chant of Pensatore's name having only ceased by virtue of her vocal cylinder having wound down. As one could imagine, such a simple system was extremely limited, making full sentences far more difficult for her to achieve. Still, while she was able to understand the words that the gentleman had spoken, she had translated them differently to how he had originally intended. Indeed, she was thoroughly confused about what he had meant without actually realising it. Such was the simplicity of her mind; she had taken it word for word without adjusting the meaning according to perspective, having so far only referred to herself as 'me'.

"Mi-i- fu-o-ro- To-ni-" She corrected herself, perhaps finally demonstrating some understanding of context as she allowed her arms to fall to her sides, her sleeve caught upon the metal of her elbow and failing to unfurl. Then, after a pause, the warrior woman stepped forwards again with lethargic and wobbly movements. Her whole body swayed as she took that all important first step, but despite the jerky motions she was able to maintain her balance.

"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-" Recited the blonde, albeit incorrectly as she stepped forward with her right foot first, and then followed with her left. Then she paused again, raising her head so that her yellow eyes were focused upon the face of the stranger, now standing no more than two yards away from him. If he started to move, she was prepared to follow, just as he had asked of her. Though, whether or not he would understand that from what she had said and done was something she would have to find out. Until then, all she was going to do was stand there, balancing awkwardly on her legs as she wobbled slightly from side to side...

[Blaka]

SPOILER: Click to show

www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-W7xveVzUw&list=PLAC7C6367B6B22EC4&index=29

The Marine with the blonde ponytail couldn't help but smile at the way the robot slowed down. It's processes had to be so incredibly slow he would have all the time in the world in whatever experiment he would cook up to set the conditions perfectly to his liking without the test subject noticing a thing. Usually timing was key but this...this would be almost relaxing.

He repeated the motion and sentence over and over again until she finally stopped talking. Unsure of wether or not she stopped because she had noticed him talk or not he waited for her reaction. It dawned on him that her mind could just as well be limited to only one word.
While waiting for her reaction, the Warrant Officer tried to take in their sorroundings a little. People were peaking out of their windows to watch them. Likely the panic earlier had been caused by the girl revealing her identity to the passersby. Just to be sure nobody would disturb the already cringeworthy slow communication process, the Marine took his hands up and waved at the people in the windows
"Do not worry! The authorities have the situation under control!"
That did the trick most of the time. Esspecially here on Loguetown, the symbol of peace, the citizens would have enough trust in the Marines to go back what they were doing.

Instead of that happening, the unit in front of him disturbed Tony's calming-down-process. She raised her arm, revealing even more of her metallic skeleton.
"Mi-i" she claimed as she seemed to repeat the beginning of the man's earlier motions. Just maybe she did understand what he had said. Or she was just a parrot. He had yet to determine what the actual purpose of this being was or what its purpose had been before. Maybe MI-I was just its actual name? The name of its model maybe? He knew that the Marine Cyborgs were generally referred to as PX-something. But that was usually a number. And PX stood for Pacifista, he couldn't think of what MI could stand for. Military Intel maybe? Marine Inhuman? Metallic Imbicile?
However, whoever created this couldn't rely on any better practices than trial and error - this obviously being an error - if the nineth model was still that slow. If that even was the naming pattern - or a name at all.
Carefully, keeping up his friendly smile, Tony continued watching her, waiting for a reaction.

"To-ni- fu-o-ro- M-i-"
Nope. Not you. I lead.
Misunderstandings when it came to easy things like this could be really problematic. His enthusiam from before got mixed with a more sour note. There was no real way for him to predict what she could understand and what she couldn't. But he didn't say anything and waited if the machine would add anything more.
"Mi-i- fu-o-ro- To-ni-"
Mr. Pensatore laughed.
"Yes!", he encouraged her "Mi-i follow Tony!"
"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-", the blonde robot claimed, taking on big step at her supposed leader, who stayed where he was this time. There was no real sense of danger coming from her anymore.

Left, Right?
Was she referring to her steps? Reminding herself how walking worked? In any case, hopefully she was in some kind of follow-mode now.
"Alright. Refto, Raito.", he chuckled, turned around and started walking. Slowly of course, he had seen how wobbly her steps were, her falling down would be less than ideal.
"We will go to the tourist bureau first." Before anything more could be thought out he would have to clear up how much she could understand. On second thought, that was probably a too long of a sentence. "First, Tourist Bureau.", he repeated "Do you copy?"

Regardless of the response, the two continued on this side street, not many people walked by, most of them didn't pay much attention. Three of four accidentally looked at "Mi-i"'s exposed arm, shook their head and hurried away. Likely, this was due to the same reaction Tony had had earlier. Cyborgs were associated with the Government, not something ordinary people would want to get involved with.
Near the port the smell of the ocean got stronger. And as if to confirm that today was Mr. Pensatore's lucky day, the tourist bureau was right on the corner that connected the street they were on to the busy main street.

It was a small cornerstore with Loguetown postcards and big posters of the Execution Platform plastered all over the window. From what one could see the inside was crowded with postcard racks and shelves upon shelves of souvenirs. Immediatly, Tony stopped and held his hand out in case the mechanic female would try to walk through him. The way she had been moving there was way too much stuff inside, she would behave like a bull in a china shop and Tony would have to pay the damage.
"You wait here.", he ordered, aiming with his index finger where she was standing. "I will be right back."

[Vio]

SPOILER: Click to show

"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-" recited the Clockwork Soldier, continuing her awkward walk as she followed behind Mister Pensatore, reminding herself of the basics of walking at regular intervals. Eventually she would be able to do this without having to say a word, but such subconscious ability was far from what she was presently capable of. Her simple mind was now focused on one thing and one thing only; following the gentleman to their next destination, wherever that may be. Her unblinking eyes focusing upon the waggling yellow protrusion on the back of the guide's head, she used that feature as something of a landmark, occasionally looking down at her feet to make sure they were still there. The simplicity of her construction came with help and hindrance; easy to repair by anyone with any degree of proficiency in clockwork and basic engineering, yet her own awareness of self was lacking. Her programming told her she had these limbs, but she could not feel them in the same way a human could. Pressure sensors in her feet told her when they hit the ground, but that was the extent of what she could feel from her lower body.

"First. Tourist. Bureau," Tony said to her, repeating whatever sentence he had tried to convey in a series of single words. However, the synthetic girl showed no signs of recognition, too heavily focused on his pony tail to pay attention to any of the other goings on around her. People walked by, eyeing the peculiar blonde before moving on without word, almost as if they did not care. Perhaps they understood what she was? Or maybe they were aware of who her escort was and thus did not see fit to say anything? Did she even understand the questions I ask you now? No. In fact, she paused briefly, taking in the last words of the Warrant Officer, before returning to her unstable marching.

"Ko-pi-" the robot repeated, though not in response to what the man had asked of her. She had just copied what he had said, her artificial mind doing it's best to try and learn as many words as possible, or at least how to pronounce them. There was an underlying sense that such behaviour was a necessity to her, a sense that could not be explained by any living person, let alone a mechanical person who was barely even aware of herself. Words meant things and, even if she could never hope to understand exactly what such words as 'copy' or 'bureau' meant, it was still a good idea to try and learn about them. Well it would have been, but by this point she had already forgotten about them, back to reciting the words that helped to guide her movements.

"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-" The two were now steadily approaching the corner of the street which joined to the high street, a shop of sorts taking up the corner and decorated with all manner of posters, most of which presented a strange tower-like structure. There were quite a few more people about now, the idle chitter chatter of otherwise friendly people filling the air and creating a welcoming atmosphere to any newcomer. Still marching on in the wake of her acquaintance, the Clockwork Soldier suddenly found herself coming to a rather sudden and unintended halt for what appeared to be no reason at all. Sure enough, the bearded fellow was now facing her once more, his arm outstretched and hand pressed against her right shoulder to stop her from crashing into anything. She wobbled, right leg half-raised from the ground, but she managed to finish her motion and place her feet together with a nearly silent grinding noise that sounded more like a stomach rumbling.

"I-e-su-" was the response she gave as their eyes met once again, confirming to him that she had understood at least some of what he had been trying to say. As Tony entered the building, the artificial entity did as she had been told, her body remaining still and idle. And then it dawned upon her that Mister Pensatore had actually used his hands to gesture at something. What was it? Her head tilted down as far as her neck would allow, staring absently at the paved stone tiles that formed the street and searching for whatever the man had pointed at. Nothing, apparently. Somewhere inside her mind she knew that a person did not point with their fingers for no reason, and so she continued to stare at the stone pavement in stern silence for a minute or two until something caught her attention. A sound. A strange sound. She raised her head again, looking out to the high street as her mechanical mind tried to pinpoint the noise she was hearing in her artificial ears.

What was that sound? Well, whatever it was, she had heard something very similar before. Or had she? It sounded like metal clinking against another surface. Dozens of pieces of metal rattling against stonework in a repetitive fashion. Why was that familiar? It conjured an odd image - a mental image, perhaps - of swift movement. A memory lost to time spent in darkness, wasting away. The sound was growing louder and louder, more and more clear.

And then it hit her.

Quite literally. Something smashed into her back with force, her body shuddering from the impact as she felt the pressure of the stone slabs disappear from her feet. People screamed and gasped, countless pairs of eyes turning to the commotion as the blonde girl's body was hurled through the air by a single strike. Her metal skeleton creaked from the strain as she was sent flying, body flailing limply as she twisted about before crashing to the ground about four yards from where she had been standing. For a few seconds she lay there on her right side, motionless, the shield on her back having been knocked off by the blow and now resting several yards away from her.

SPOILER: Click to show

SPOILER: Click to show

{

.... --- ... - .. .-.. . / .--. .-. . ... . -. -.-. . / -.. . - . -.-. - . -..

}

HOSTILE PRESENCE DETECTED

"Unauthorised technology must be eradicated," said another monotonous voice, this one clearly possessing far better diction and a much more pronounced understanding of language than the synthetic being herself. It was a tall and lithe creature clad in white, with lengthy limbs and the most peculiar of appearances, especially with the almost avian visage it wore. To many it was terrifying, to some it was not unusual at all, but to the Clockwork Soldier it was a threat. Something had set off inside of her, like a furious flame burning within the heart of a furnace.

SPOILER: Click to show

{

-.-. --- -- -... .- - / -- --- -.. . / .- -.-. - .. ...- .- - . -..

}

COMBAT MODE ACTIVATED

"No-" With surprising speed and coordination, the synthetic soldier placed her left hand upon the floor and pushed out with her right arm, rolling herself onto her back as the silvery monstrosity started to rattle towards her upon toothy treads. Pulling her legs in and extended her arms out behind her, she managed to push herself up from the ground in a manner that may have seemed utterly impossible based on her previous difficulties in moving. It was like she was possessed. A completely different entity now stood in her place, numerous internal devices whirring and clicking and juddering away to instill her body with an uncharacteristic energy. She stood there, eyes focused entirely upon the spider-bird and once against frozen in time...

[Blaka]

Tony didn't spend a lot of time in the shop before the chaos outside broke lose. However, he did have a few minutes to look through what the shop offered. Among the mostly worthless souvenirs, he found a little book, a guide for all the places worth seeing in Loguetown, from the Execution Platform to a relatively nice looking restaurant. All he needed now was a decent map of the city. A quick look outside revealed that he could take his time looking for one, his acquaintance was still standing on the spot he had pointed her to. One of the ridiculously large posters across the window was covering most of her, but he could see her bottom half. More than likely she would stay standing there all year if she didn't get another order. He chuckled at that thought, turned away from the window and continued looking for the map.

SPOILER: Click to show

www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=2eWVoHVzhxg&index=44&list=PLAC7C6367B6B22EC4

All of the sudden, he heard a loud metallic crashing sound from outside. People screamed and the owner of the tourist shop gasped, staring out the window in surprise. Tony did the same as his head turned around. Outside, where his robot companion had been standing, stood now someone else's bottom half. If that even was a half of the figure. The only thing that one could see outside was a long white lab coat and something that looked like an arm, but with two elbows. The robot from earlier was nowhere to be seen, at least not from inside the shop.
An attack? Who would attack a broken prototype unit like that? Let alone who even knew that she was here?

With thoughts like these, completely devote of any concern about the robot lady's well-being, Tony let the book he had picked up fall out of his hand hurried outside.
He was presented with something that looked completely out of this world. A man, a good deal taller than Tony, was standing with his back turned towards the Marine. His size wasn't the weird part though, neither were his two elbows really. It was the fact that he had four arms in total. Tony had heard of certain types of humans on the Grand Line that posessed these weirdly elongated limbs, but had never imagined seeing one himself. Neither had he ever heard of humans with four arms before, only some fishmen had those. He couldn't see the guy's face, but the skin on his hands looked human, a regular tan.
Besides, no fishman would ever wear a coat like this one. The word that was written in huge black letters across the coat's back would never even be even attributed to merfolk: "JUSTICE".
A Marine. A Marine with 4 Longarm-Tribe-arms. A Marine with 4 Longarm-Tribe-arms attacking a broken robot prototype without any sort of prior provocation.
Something in his guts told Mr. Pensatore that this was likely a matter that was slightly too big for a person of his rank. Still, it couldn't hurt getting involved, if just to report his find to the authorities.

Without a doubt the percieved threat of the robot was already taken care of, so it was safe for him to go around the four-armed soldier and make his presence known.
"Hello sir!", Tony cautiously raised his voice as he took a step forward so that he was now standing left next to the Longarm - where he discovered that the percieved threat was in fact not taken care of at all. Instead, the lady was standing there in what looked like some sort of fighting stance! Looking at her previous motions, even not falling down while standing like this seemed wholly unachievable to Tony. More than a little surprised he took a quick look to the right to catch a glimpse of the guy's face - it was hidden behind a white bird mask.

Instead of reacting, the masked entity took a step forward. Finally, it hit Tony: As the Cyborg made a noise as if a tank was lifted a few centimeters into the air and crashed down to the ground again, the Warrant Officer finally understood what he was: A Cazador, the most recent Marine Science Project straight from the Grand Line. He had been briefed about the existence of these machines but had never been to a base that actually had them around. Yet, according to what he had heard these guys only came out during absolute emergencies. And they hunted in teams, at least 3 or 4. This one was apparently alone. Had he been cut off from the rest of his pack? Additionally, there wasn't even any human personell around. Was he running off on his own? Maybe going amok?
The Cazador's target was very likely to still calculate her next move, at least she didn't bunch an inch even when the comparatively huge man slowly approached her. The civilians around them backed further and further off. Nobody liked to get involved with mechanic monsters, let alone Marine ones.

Warrant Officer Antonio Pensatore had to make a close call. Cazadors were supposed to listen to human Marine orders no matter what. Either he was about to interrupt a very important World Government mission - or he was about to save dozens of civilian life, starting with the one of his latest supposed test subject. He would have liked more time to think about his decision, but there was none.
So he decided:
Safe the life - no matter if it was an artificial one or not.
"I am Warrant Officer Antonio Pensatore! Stand down!"
His deep voice thundered through the street.
"I repeat, Stand down!"

[Vio]

SPOILER: Click to show

Ticking. Clacking. Creaking. Whirring. A veritable assortment of distinctly mechanical sounds were currently playing out within the body of the Clockwork Soldier, driving her formerly unsteady and lethargic design to feats that may have seemed utterly impossible in the past. But this was what she had been built for. Combat. What good was a soldier that could not fight? For this one, however, combat was not about killing one's enemies and winning battles. That whole aspect of battle had long been lost by her decaying programming, though it was interesting to wonder whether or not such protocols had been issued in the first place. No. Battle was simply a means of defending one self against those who wished harm upon you, and it was that ideal that the robotic woman currently clung to without any degree of understanding. As far as she was concerned she had but one enemy, and all she needed to do was protect herself until it gave up.

Round and round the gears went, matching the sound of chainsaw teeth as they tapped against the paving slabs, pulling the strange bird-faced beast towards her. The intent was clear. The voice of the enormous entity having expressed every ounce of its purpose in a single, emotionless sentence. Not that the mechanical maiden had understood those words to any degree, having had no opportunity to take them in. Her need for sociability and communication had been knocked right out of her by the initial blow, the void filled by the instinct to fight. The first round had already been won by the many-legged monstrosity, its victim having had to expend all of her power into righting herself. But now the first round was over, the second about to commence as the widgets revolved, pistons compressed and springs wound tight. The Clockwork Soldier was ready, this time, and indeed wasted no time in preparing her own weapon.

"So-do-" said the synthetic soldier, left arm raised and the fingers - still wrapped in false flesh - clenched into a loose fist. In just a matter of seconds, if that, a panel in her forearm popped open. From it, accompanied by a sound akin to metal rubbing against metal, extended a sleek blade of fiery bronze. A sword approximately eighteen inches in length, connected to the back of her arm and extending beyond her hand, gleamed dully in the sun's rays. Compared to the rest of her visage, this weapon looked clean and well cared for, or at least protected from the elements by being contained within her body for all those years. Nonetheless, it was a sword. A tool with which men had forged war and fought to the death on countless occasions for endless centuries. The most well known weapon of war, but this sword was her sword, never once having tasted the blood of another living entity. Indeed, this was perhaps the first time since its implementation that the amber edge had ever seen the light of day.

Without a word, the warrior in white rattled towards her again at speed, and still the clickety-clack of teeth against the cold hard ground sounded so familiar. Within a couple of seconds it had closed the gap between them, one of its lengthy arms now wrapped in the very same steely teeth that encompassed its feet and whirred wildly. The long arm swung towards the automaton, chainsaw blade whipping through the air in an obvious attempt to deal as much damage as was possible to this unauthorised piece of technology. While not as swift as the cyborg itself, the robot was still plenty quick enough to react, raised her own blade to parry the blow. With a ringing clash the two attached weapons connected, but it was most definitely the attacker that was going to win this trade. Hundreds of tiny teeth rattled against the bronze blade, sending a light scattering of hot yellow sparks off to the side, accompanied by the grating sound of someone running a metal pipe along a metal fence. Only much faster. A hollow, rattling scream as metal struggled against metal.

The struggle persisted for a few seconds, but then the enemy took advantage of its numerous arms. A heavy blow connected with the chest of the Clockwork Soldier, knocking her backwards. She stumbled, legs stamping forcefully against the paving slabs in a desperate and fortunately successful attempt to assure her balance. A close call, and the second round was over. Once more she stood there, taking no actions. Not even a subtle movement. One side of her sword glowed a dull, warm red. The metallic ringing still lingered in the streets, most - if not all - of the onlookers watched in stunned silence, plugging their ears as the rattling subsided. The silvery silhouette of the spider-bird crept back a few feet, placing itself out of harms way. Perhaps it was curious as to why its prey had fallen still, and yet not over? The two stared at each other. Shadowed eyes, hidden behind the mysterious mask, locked with the unblinking yellow ovals of an expressionless doll-like face.

In all of the action, neither of the mechanical marvels had noticed the lone Warrant Officer, Antonio Pensatore, emerge from the tourist information shop and step into the fray. At first he greeted the enemy. Did that make him her enemy? No. Tony was nice. Tony was friendly. Tony was Tony. Still, the artificial entity remained still, despite her body having wound up again in preparation for the third round. Curiously she observed the man with the yellow hair as he observed them. But the tall one in white paid him no heed and began to advance forwards once more, chainsaw skates having been withdrawn. The predator had assessed its quarry and knew that it did not need such speed to outmatch it. One step forward. Two steps forward. It crept towards her, ready to pounce or react if she attacked first. But that was not how she fought. A whir of metal teeth rung through the air once again, accompanied by the thunder of a man's voice.

"I repeat," Antonio roared once more, "Stand down!"

Silence. Stillness.

SPOILER: Click to show

"Affirmative," the tall one replied monotonously, staring at the Warrant Officer, and then back to the synthetic woman. It seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, with a rattle, it withdrew the teeth from its arm and concealed them once more within its body. The blonde 'girl' stood there in silence, engines and gears still whirring away inside, winding up and down to maintain a consistent power supply. The entity, whatever it was, remained still and silent as well. Only at least it had a greater understanding of what he was saying. The Clockwork Soldier was still trying to make sense of his words, but the current processes of her body - which could only be likened to an adrenaline rush - were denying her that ability.

Finally, after a prolonged period, the lack of attacks against her indicated that all was safe. Inside, gears slowed down, springs loosened and wires uncoiled. With a few loud clicks, the bronze blade that protruded from her left arm was reeled back inside, telling of its segmented nature as it slid neatly into itself and vanished beneath the flesh-coloured panel. Awkward and uneasy movements returned to her, causing her to wobble on her currently uneven footing until she adjusted her left foot to compensate. She was back to her old self.

"I-e-su- To-ni-"

[Blaka]

SPOILER: Click to show

www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=EWHtSsbbJbA&index=12&list=PLAC7C6367B6B22EC4

"Affirmative".
"I-e-su To-ni"
Tony exhaled in relief. His intervention could have gone two ways, may have even ended with legal problems for him. Thankfully, the Cazador seemed just about perfectly defect. He could have easily decided to attack the man shouting orders at him. Instead, he listened to a Warrant Officer, something that definetly wasn't protocol, at least as far as Tony knew.
Both Combatants withdrew their respective weapons and discarded their combat stance in favor of a regular pose. Their arms fell to the side of their body and they remained still for a couple of seconds, just standing there in the middle of the street, staring at each other. Cautiously, Mr. Pensatore observed the two of them, but after roughly 20 seconds of silence, he was sure everything was fine for now.

Just now the Marine with the ponytail noticed the ruckus the incident had created. Passers-by were whispering to each other, words like "unbelievable" were hanging in the air. With the two fighters at peace with each other, Tony turned his back to them to address the frightened crowd around the confusing trio.
"Please Excuse this little incident", he spoke up, loud enough for most of the people to hear him "The Marines have taken care of the situation, everything is fine!" As he was looking at the wide-eyed faces, he put on his calming friendly smile "The Cazador Unit here must have a defect, but he is taken care off! He should be completely harmless now! I will return him to the authorities to get him repaired!"
"A small defect?!" That was an angry voice somewhere in the crowd
"Yeah" concurred another man "What if he had attacked us civilians? That's not supposed to happen!"
General nodding followed.

The look on Tony's face didn't change even though he wanted to slap the two protesters.
Of course that wasn't supposed to happen, what good did it do to point that out?
"A small mistake led him to believe that the unit behind me", he waved in Mi-i's general direction "was a threat to civilians. Cazadors are emergency units that are to protect you and your fellow citizens, sir" he addressed one of them directly "with their lives. Please go about your day while I take care of the situation."

Of course, the crowd didn't just leave. They kept staring at the two machines behind the blonde Marine, murmuring things about dangerous behaviour.
Shrugging internally, said Marine turned to the left, to the owner of the tourist bureau.
"Mister, can you get me a map of the town? I'm not from around here and I need to bring the Cazador back to the local Headquarters." The adressed shopowner stared back for a second, likely unsure of what to do.
"Quickly please." Pensatore added, clapping his hands together.
"S-sure, give me a moment..." mumbled the guy as he disappeared inside to do as asked.

Tony decided to use the time and turned back to the Cazador. He needed to know the cyborgs version of why all of this happened.
"Name?"
The Longarm turned his head so that the empty holes in his beak mask stared directly at the Warrant Officer to his left.
"I am CX-155." stated the metallic voice inside of him.
"Why are you outside? Where's the rest of your pack?"
"I am part of a new shipment to reinforce the Loguetown Headquarters. I arrived at Loguetown this morning." He stopped for a second presumably processing his next response. After a short pause, he continued "I have no information about the rest of my Unit."
Marvellous. Tony put his kept smiling at the masked face while his brain tried to figure out what to do next. If he wanted to return him, then he would have to find the ship he presumably broke out of down at the docks. Likely, that would take ages.
It was best to gain more intel on his female company then, the Cazador had to have a reason for attacking her.
"What are your last orders?"
"Stand down."

Keeping his smile intact, Tony closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was the monotony in the metallic voice that made it sound like sarcasm, even though he knew it wasn't.
Damn these robot brains could be annoying.
Despite that, opening his eyes, he continued to try and get something out of him.
"Why did you attack her then?"
"Unauthorised technology must be eradicated."
Now that finally was something! Gaining courage about the sudden possibility of the whole conversation not being a complete waste of time, he continued.
"Unauthorised? What do you know about her?"
"I have no information about this technology. This technology cannot be authorised."
"..."
Instead of reacting, Tony just continued to smile. There was nothing to gain here. It was probably best to turn both the lady and the Cazador in to the Headquarters. Or rather, eventually do so. Before he would have to make use of this new development. He still had no knowledge about wether or not he was interferring with something bigger here, before he got into any problems he would try and use the time he had with the two mechanical beings to test a few things out.

The shopowner returned with a map. Looking at it, the Marine chemist noticed that the direct route to the Headquarters was by traversing the Plaza. What a lucky coincidence! On the way there he would have enough time to play.
"Okay you two", he tried to gain their attention "Follow me!"

Assuming Mi-i would comply as always, Mr. Pensatore walked past her seemingly lifeless body back the way they came from. Behind him, he could hear the thundering steps of CX-155.
A scary thought that a figure like this would follow everything he said. But an amusing thought as well. It wasn't every day that one had access to a force like this at his fingertips.

[Vio]

Curiously still was the Clockwork Soldier as her internal systems wound down to their default states, her silence and stillness almost mirroring that of the white-faced entity that stood not to far from her. She had completely forgotten the reasoning behind her sudden levels of activity; indeed, she was not even aware that she was capable of such bursts of speed and strength, for that power had come to her naturally. It was what she had been built for, the fibre of her very being, and yet it eluded her like everything else. There was only the now, and now there was peace. There was also Tony speaking to others, but not a word they said seemed to reach her artificial ears. Everything was lost in translation, her primitive intellect barely able to scratch the surface of such complex exchanges of sound. Yes, some words reached her, but she did not know what they meant.

"Mi-i-" chirped the tinny voice of the synthetic person as Mister Pensatore gestured towards her, her processors able to at least detect that the blond man was referring to her as he spoke. With a quivering right arm she raised her hand to eye level, almost as if drawing attention to herself on purpose, perhaps becoming a little more aware of herself. Well, everyone else seemed to be fully aware of the girl and her previous opponent, the latter standing tall and still aside from looking about at the civilians. Turning her head slightly, the blonde bot looked to her own hand, seemingly having forgotten its existence. That was quite easy to do when you had little knowledge of yourself. Much like a newborn, she currently lacked much hand-eye co-ordination, proceeding to stare at each hand as she waited for the Marine.

After a moment, the mechanical maiden let her arms fall to her sides once more, yellow eyes staring idly at the patterns of the pavement as she paused to consider something. Despite not knowing anything valuable, she still seemed to have an innate understanding of certain things. The world around her was strange, yes, but there was something unusually familiar about being surrounded by others like Tony. Were they Tony as well? None of them looked like Tony. None of them sounded like Tony. So maybe they were not Tony? But Tony was Tony! For a while her mind was caught up in a state of confusion unlike anything she had ever experienced, making her wonder whether or not she was a Tony as well... I have confused myself while trying to explain this. Anyway, onto more important matters!

Turning her head to take in her surroundings, wondering about all the various Tonies around her, the Clockwork Soldier's unblinking eyes finally settled upon something that looked so familiar to her. Familiar, and yet brand new. On the ground a few yards away from her lay a circular object of copper-yellow metal, edged with silver protrusions like the teeth of a gear, about a metre in diameter. It was a solid piece of metal, perfectly flat and perhaps a couple of centimetres in thickness, with an obvious set of holes in its centre as if something were meant to be placed there. She stared at it for a moment, taking the time to process all the noticeable details before raising and extending an arm towards it. With one flesh-coloured finger she pointed, while Tony himself walked past her and the spider-bird started to follow him. And then, having completely dismissed any other happenings about her, she said this:

"Shi-ru-do-" Well, that was something. For once in her idle state, the artificial entity had been able to identify something other than herself without it having to be spelled out for her. This, as some might say, was progress. Carefully she began to walk, once more following her typical routine - of placing one foot at a time whilst stating the name of the opposite leg in her reverberating voice - until she came to a halt about a foot away from the disk that lay upon the earth. Her left arm still pointed at the object, half out of curiosity and half out of an unusual desire to retrieve the item. It was as if it was a part of her, and she knew it. She actually understood that this shield belonged to her, but she could do little to express it.

"Mi-i- Shi-ru-do-" Doing what she could to make the connection known to those around her, the rickety robot started to chant those words over and over again, now extending her right arm as if trying to grab at it. Behind her, in it's pursuit of the Warrant Officer, the Cazador stopped and turned to look. All around, by-standers milled and watched cautiously, some of them likely annoyed by the persistent and slightly monotonous drone coming from the blonde girl...

SPOILER: Click to show

Sorry for the lack of plot progression. Muse had kinda run a little dry.

[Blaka]

SPOILER: Click to show

www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=rGyWJwcFNnw&list=PLAC7C6367B6B22EC4&index=65

And so, the strange trio wandered back up the near empty street. The only sounds heard were the thundering walking noises of CX-155, drowning out the mechanical steps of the mysterious unit Mi-i.
Tony had plenty of time to think about his situation.

In his head, he tried to recapitulate the events that he had witnessed. He had to, otherwise thinking ahead would prove impossible. This morning, a whole shipment of Cazador units had been brought to Loguetown. One of the units, CX-155, was somehow defective and had walked off on its own. Currently, there was no information about where the rest of them was. Likely, the Marines that brought them here were already looking for the runaway. However, should they find out what Tony was doing, he could blame everything on the defective cyborg.
More or less at the same time, Tony had met the robot lady called Mi-i. He had yet to figure out its purpose, but he had confirmation now that she wasn't a government machine. Mr. Pensatore couldn't decide wether or not that was a good or bad thing. On one hand, it meant that somebody somewhere was building illegal robots. On the other hand, it meant that Tony didn't just stumble into some sort of secret cipherpol project. Mi-i seemed to be a sleeper agent of some sort. She acted all clunky and scatterbrained in normal circumstances, but just now she had been ready to actually go head to head with a Cazador. And Mr. Pensatore had protected her from the four-arm's wrath.

The monotonous rattling of the two mechanical beings behind him helped Tony's thoughts to a steady pace. Quickly, he jumped from one question to the next. He had to find answers to all of his questions before they would arrive at the plaza.

Had he really done the right thing earlier?
Yes, save the life was a priority, but did the girl behind him even count in that regard? A walking, talking computer that followed every command without question. Her skin seemed human at least, but that was about it. She had no facial expressions, no variations in the tone of her voice, incredibly little understanding of the world around her or even herself for that matter. The only thing she had done by herself had been an act of self preservation. Then again - there were humans that didn't do much else either. Elder people, or children. For a moment, a feeling of guilt built up inside the Marine's chest. Was he ordering a child around? Images of his brother and daughter flashed before his mind. A shadow crawled on Mr. Pensatore's face, his concentrated look became an empty stare. Half a decade ago, Altra Pensatore had kidnapped Tony's daughter Legge, stole her eyesight from her and made the 5 year old the slave of a pirate crew. The difference between that and experimenting on the child-like Mi-i was not as big as Tony would have liked it to be, was it?

No.

Mr. Pensatore caught himself again. Losing himself in the past in debates like this one was never a good idea. Bah, emotions. Mi-i behaved like a toddler, yes. But someone did design her like that. The robot was nothing but that. A robot. A distorted simulation of a human being. And the thing about simulations was: There were no consequences. It was all just a test. There were no moral issues with what he was about to do:
If someone made illegal combat units for his own benefit, even if this one was just a prototype, Tony wanted to know how advanced it really was. And if it was even safe to let it live. It could be safely assumed that the Cazador would do everything in his power to prevent civilian damage. Furthermore, the CX unit would be more than capable of doing so should Mi-i try anything. If not, he as Mi-i's apparent new master could easily stop the experiment. Anything that went wrong would be blamed on the broken Cazador brain. And what better place than the city plaza to study the robot lady's attitude towards civilians in a combat situation.

Antonio Pensatore smiled as he looked up again. The whole walk he had been staring at his feet in order to prevent any distractions. There, in front of the three, was the Loguetown plaza, filled with local citizens and tourists alike.
"Hold it, you two!" He raised his right hand to signify both metallic warriors to stop. "Let us take in the view for a minute."

[Vio]

Finally, after several long seconds of chanting the same word over and over in the most tinny and monotonous voice imaginable to the ears of man, the Clockwork Soldier was able to retrieve her shield. One young man, swallowing his fear of the unknown and acting 'brave' in the face of danger - or maybe just wishing to shut her up - had walked over and lifted the metallic disk from the ground and offered it to her, to which she had responded by holding out her exposed right arm and pressing against the inside of the shield. With a couple of distinct clicks, the locking mechanisms had activated, securing the shield to her arm; though that did not stop it from rattling precariously, its connections worn by years of disrepair. Regardless, the automaton's vocalisations finally came to an end, replaced with a silence broken only by the unanimous sigh of gratitude from all those around her. Without a word, she turned and wobbled her way after Tony and the spider-bird, the latter of which had now removed its face to reveal a second face beneath.

"Re-fu-to- Ra-i-to-" recited the robot, still not quite understanding the difference between the two directions and the ways in which her legs were moving. But still, she was on the move, unblinking eyes focused upon the blonde tail that hung from the back of Mister Pensatore's head. It wiggled as he walked, much like the strange yellow curls that hung from her own head, and for some strange reason she found that absolutely fascinating. Even so, she had been asked to follow him; and follow she did, completely ignorant of the warrior in white that walked beside her with far more human steps than she could manage.

Through the streets they walked and walked, the same words escaping through motionless lips every minute or two as the clockwork girl shambled unsteadily along in the wake of the Warrant Officer. Fortunately for her, the path they were taking was straight and smooth, allowing her to maintain a good pace and keep up with the broader steps of her company. If only she could actually feel the ground beneath her feet, or even the fact that there was currently a pigeon standing on her head, enjoying the ride. But the mechanical maiden only had a mere fraction of the sensory capabilities of her human counterparts, blessed not with the acute ears and sharp eyes. Blessed not with the power to feel every little pin prick upon her synthetic skin, nor the power to smell through an artificial nose. Not even a tongue with which to taste food. What a 'quiet' life it was to live in the body of the Clockwork Soldier, but there was not a single way to compare it to the lives of other, living beings. All she knew was to see and to hear and to keep her balance - the latter of which she was certainly not very good at.

"Hold it, you two!" Tony said, finally breaking the awkward silence with words other than 'left' and 'right', raising his hand to tell them to stop. The Cazador did so without question, standing to attention. Miss Machine did not, failing to register exactly what her charge had said until it was a little too late and walking into the back of the spider-bird. The result? She bounced backwards like a rag doll thrown at a wall, landing on her artificial rump with a clattering noise and sending the plumed passenger flying skywards in surprise. Stunned for a moment, she had not even realised that the fall had taken place, though she had certainly felt something to have gone wrong. She just was not entirely sure why, though...

SPOILER: Click to show

Behold! The shortest Vio post in all the world! Seriously, plot progression is so hard when your character is utterly responsive. Still, there's a bit I may add in later, but it's not important to what's happening now.

[Blaka]

SPOILER: Click to show

Permission to help Clockwork up was granted.

SPOILER: Click to show

www.yourepeat.com/watch/?v=qaRH_WWNAws

It took a while before Tony noticed his metallic companions had crashed into each other. Too fascinating was the view in front of them.
The place where everything began.
Nothing in the picture showed even a slight resemblence to what everything must have looked like that day, over 20 years ago. People were going about their everyday life. The ice cream shops attracted a horde of laughing kids. At least three or four restaurants had put their tables outside for people to enjoy a warm day during their lunch break. A group of young women passed, their arms full with gigantic shopping bags. Nobody seemed to care anymore about the gigantic execution platform right in the middle of the plaza.

Even though its shadow towered over the townsfolk, it didn't seem to take away from the great day everybody was having. A little smile snuck its way on Mr. Pensatore's face. The memorial of the pirate king right in front of their noses had just become part of their culture. In a few decades, few townspeople would even remember what it stood for. The victory of the Marines over the notorious Roger Pirates! A warning to any criminal coming here that their actions would have consequences! Of course, the middleaged Marine wasn't ignorant of the other side of the coin: The uncountable deaths Roger's last words had caused. The wave of brutal killers that suddenly had become motivated to become great men. One day, he would have to sit down and think a bit more about this phenomenon: With only a few words, the late Pirate King had motivated two entire generations to chase after his treasure. And just two years ago, Edward Newgate had done it again. Hopefully, the government would find a way in the next couple of years to erase the pirate plague. But if it was that easy, wouldn't somebody just be able to come along and do the same again?

In any case, at least the government did its best to keep the memory intact. To Tony's knowledge, the scaffold had been knocked over by a storm a few years ago. That had to happen every once in a while, afterall it was the largest construct in the entire city. Lightning was attracted to the highest point, so naturally the platform was the prime target of thunderstorms.
But they had it rebuilt. Obviously the Warrant Officer had never seen it before, but whoever put it back had made sure it looked exactly like the original he knew from pictures.

Just now, the blode Marine realised what was happening behind him. Annoyed that the two mechanical beings had interrupted his thoughts with their akwardness, he turned around. Still, he made sure the friendly smile stayed on his face. Mi-i was on sitting on the pavement with CX-155 towering over her.
"Hey, Hey, everything alright?" That was more of a rethorical question, but that was a concept that was hard to teach to machines.
"Yes. I'm fully functional sir." responded the Cazador
'Doubt that. Tony thought as he walked over to the female robot, grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet.
"Listen." He raised his index finger in front of her face and waited a second to get her attention. By now, he knew how slow her thought process could be and it was very important that she followed his orders.
"You see the scaffold over there?" For good measure he pointed in the direction he meant. "Go there. I follow you."
With a clap on the back, he send the robotic lady on her way. It was safe to assume she would do as she was asked, so he turned back to the CX unit.

Instantly, he started talking much quicker and used as many more words for his order than would have been necessary. Even though he had told Mi-i to go, he couldn't risk that she got even slightly suspicious that the Cazador's future actions had anything to do with Antonio himself.
"Now you wait here. We are going to trick the target a little. As soon as Madam Robot over there and I arrive in the middle, you make sure she can't hurt anyone ever again. Do not damage civilains. Wait here until we arrive, that is crucial. Understood?"
"Yes."
By now the metal girl was probably far enough away to not even hear any of what the cyborg and Marine were talking about. Too loud were the noises of the people around her.
"Repeat your orders then."
"I must stay here until you and the target arrive at the middle of the square. Then I must exterminate the target."
"Correct." Tony clapped his hands together. At least that worked. "See, I knew you'd get the hint. You must be good for something afterall."
Note to self: Analyze the Cazador's creator properly. Someone made sure they know euphisims for 'kill her'.
Tony chuckled before he left his cyborg ally and hurried after the robot lady.