Gizmo Field Test (William Kennedy)

"Tracking multiple targets" a hollow yet somehow still human voice spoke to a man in a room miles away from the crowded Mexico City streets. The voice had come from an unusually tall man, towering well over the inhabitants of the bustling city. He wore the typical attire for an Agency Field Agent; a black suit custom tailored to fit his irregular size covering a white undershirt and accented by a sleek black tie. The pants as well, black and crisp coming to a folded point on the lines of his shins down to his neatly polished combination dress/combat shoes. One either hand was a leather glove to fully mask the more inhuman look to either either of his arms. What he lacked of the uniform though were the Agency issue headset and sidearm, his own body could function as both and so much more. This was Agent GIZMO, the Agency's newest toy and secret weapon against the meta-human "infection".

From his size and attire it was clear that he was making no effort to blend in, parting the sea of passing humans as he scanned the surrounding area for one of the handful of meta-humans he'd been sent here to deal with. His eyes were cold, heartless as they searched the area. He had little data on the infected he was currently pursuing, no details on their particular infection but knowledge of their occupation; a sell sword and active in the area recently. With this information GIZMO turned to a nearby by bar and entered it. He was not in the nicest part of town and found it probable that at least some manner of illegal activity took place inside.

Ducking through the doorway he sat himself at a table at the back of the bar and observed for any suspicious activity. If there was none within a few minutes he would pick himself up and continue the search elsewhere. Suppressing the infected individuals was his first priority and he would not waste much time sitting around. After all every second spent inactive, was a second that a meta-human had to wreak havoc on the human populace.

Ah Mexico City, Mexico it was such a small ‘town’ full of street rats and water that could kill you in mere seconds. It reminded William of home back when he was still what could be called mortal. He hated Mexico for that reason. But, he went where ever the money took him and today that money took him to Mexico because some drug lord overstepped his bounds with some other drug lord and yada yada, William didn’t give two shits about the reasons why he was sent to beat the ever living crap out of someone as long as he got a fight and money in for it. Which of course he always knew he’d at least get the money because his targets always ended up dead, it was just a matter of whether or not they put up a decent fight.

Currently William was sitting in a bar, some random skunk hole of a bar waiting for his target to find their way into it. Apparently it was a bar he frequented often and as this contract did not have any strings attached William could kill the man however he wanted and wherever he wanted. So, there he sat the fingers on his left hand moving up and down, up and down, as he took a sip from his giant glass of beer. He had been sitting there for quite a while wasting good money on this alcoholic crap that couldn’t even get him drunk anymore; well okay that was a lie he could get drunk but to do that he’d practically have to find an entire liquor store and drink it all dry, which he didn’t feel like doing right now.  

Thankfully he saw his man walk in not too long after and cracking his neck he took another sip of his beer, stood up and walked over to the man. “Nice to meet cha, you got a lot of money on your head old chap you know that right? Right, ‘course you do. I’m here to collect.” With that William smashed his beer glass into the man’s face laughing as he did. His body guards, or who Will assumed were his body guards, all rushed over to William in attempts to grab or beat him up but William the Bloody was having none of this. In quick succession he broke the necks of each and every guard before the mob boss had even stood up. “The fun has only just begun.” He grinned picking the man up with one hand by the color.

It took less time than GIZMO had anticipated for his target to show himself. A man with bleach blonde hair rose from the bar, threatened a man about the bounty on his head and smashed a large mug into the man's face. "Target acquired" GIZMO spoke at the back of the bar, confirming to mission control that he was now locked onto a meta-human threat.

GIZMO rose from his seat, still analyzing the man in the midst of a full on brawl. Or so GIZMO had assumed. The man deftly dispatched the surrounding guards and ha his own target by the throat before GIZMO could reach him. Modules 1-2: Enhance Muscle Mass his brain commanded to the first two adaptation modules. At the command his body sprang to life, synthetic sinew stretching against android architecture. His musculature was now just above that of a normal human, more than enough he thought to deal with his target. And with his body now readied he began the task of neutralizing his target. Approaching the man from behind GIZMO cocked back and threw a well aimed strike at the back of his targets neck at the base of the skull. He would determine his next course if action depending on his target's reaction.

Just as he was about to end the poor man’s feeble existence William breathed in through his nose and smelt something he had not smelt it quite some time. Human skin mixed with metal, robotics and fake shit pouring off some poor chap in the room. Except he was getting closer, he could smell the disgusting thing as he walked right up behind William, but William didn’t hear it which meant he was quiet. At least when he walked, crushing the mob bosses wind pipe, William spun around and caught the man’s hand in his own after dropping the now dead Mob Boss of course. “Right then, who the bloody hell do you think you are?” He would ask stepping back a bit to give himself some room, eying the man up and down. “You smell like a fuckin piece of shit by the way.”

William was unsure of what he just got himself into but there wasn’t one single person on this damn earth he couldn’t stand up to, he was sure of that. One Hundred and Seventy bloody years of life and he hadn't met anyone he couldn't stand up to after one or two fights. Except his Star, she had been the only one and some piece of crap robot who had a terrible smell was not going to change that. Putting his fists up in a 'fighting' stance he jumped up and down moving his feet back and forth a wicked grin on his face. "So, metal ass how's this little dance of ours going to work? A quick one two?" At this he flung his right fist out at the robo's face with his left going in for the gut shot. "Or is it going to take a bit more than that?"

Interesting. The man was fast, fast enough to dispatch the man he had in the air before turning around and catching GIZMO's fist mid attack. He was strong too, enough so that the attack was stopped the attack dead in it's tracks. But it gave GIZMO insight into the exact strength capabilities of his enemy. Analyzing stopping force his brain began to process the force exerted from his own attack versus the pressure against his synthetic skin. By the time the man had released his hand GIZMO had processed that he was capable of exerting forces near 50 tons. Impressive but outside of his own capabilities. Module 3: Match Enemy Strength Output he commanded to another of his adaptation modules causing his synthetic muscle mass to once again increase, this time to levels equaling that of his opponent.

After the failure of GIZMO's initial attack his target then backed up putting up his fist and bouncing on the balls of his feet, assuming a stance similar to that of an MMA fighter and taunting the agent. But metal ass? GIZMO was unsure why he had been called this. There was no more metal in his body than the average human's, perhaps it was because of his generally stiff appearance. But it was of little consequence as a fist came flying in at his face. Sensors in his face and data from his eyes began to process the attack as it landed square on his jaw, forcing his head to the left. Systems unable to process at speeds equaling opponent's. The data told him that he would be taking hits from the infected, it was inevitable. So instead of attempting to outmaneuver his opponent he would outlast him. Modules 4-5: Apply Sub-dermal Plating. At his command the modules went immediately to work, shielding every inch of his body just beneath his synthetic skin with a highly durable carbon fiber. Just in time too as the second attack from his opponent landed in his left side. Minimal damage from second attack, countermeasures proving effective. Good, perhaps the man's fist would even be injured from the impact.

With the man's fist still planted firmly on his side Gizmo reached with his left hand grabbing at his wrist. Pulling it down he simultaneously brought up his left knee at the man's elbow, aiming to break it. Then with the same leg he would step past the man's right leg, aiming his right fist at his gut and setting their head's on a collision course.

Current Grid:

Spoiler:

This robotic arse of a man was faster than William had expected him to be or he simply learned faster than most. His first punch hit the ‘man’ head on, literally, knocking him off to the side a bit only for Williams next punch to hit the gut like intended. However, not everything went exactly the way he had intended it to go as this hit hurt Will possibly much more than it hurt the robot. “Fuuuuck! What the Bloody Hell are you made of you sodding wanker.” He cursed out at the man shaking his left hand up and down in pain. He couldn’t understand why he had been able to hit the damned fool the first time without any consequence but the second time around it stung worse than hitting an iron clad door with your fist. He knew that for a fact.

He had intended to test that theory by bashing the man’s skull in once more, except he did not exactly get the opportunity to do so. Almost before he even realized what was going on the robot had a firm grasp on William’s arm and was bringing his knee up to snap his arm at the elbow, breaking it. But William was having none of that, he’d sooner break his wrist and pull his hand out of the man’s grip than have his elbow broken because from past experiences wrists healed a hell of a lot faster than elbows did. With a quick motion his own foot kicked out stopping the knee from hitting his wrist. Sure it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing in the world and his foot was feeling like hell but at least he wasn’t broken anywhere even if he was still caught in the man’s grip.

However it seemed that the man was not done with William in any sense of the words and his fist was aimed for his gut while their heads were on a well course headed towards a head on collision. The man was fast, not as fast as William, but just fast enough that there wasn’t much he could do about it except twist his body so that he was facing the side of the man with his left arm across his chest, still in the hand of the man. The unnatural smelling man’s fist slammed into the side of his body and William could feel his ribs cracking but at least the wind had not been knocked out of him.

“Nice hit…my turn.” He muttered through clenched teeth. Swinging his body around quickly so he was facing the man his left hand and wrist twisted in the man’s grip grabbing his arm from underneath. His right hand made another appearance as well as it reached out to grab the top part of the man’s arm that was holding William’s left hand. If he was successful in grabbing the man’s arm he would then use his strength to attempt to flip the man and thus slam him down on the ground. If the man somehow still seemed to hold onto his arm he would continue his hold and twist so he was on top of the man facing the unnatural man’s face while leaning backwards in a sort of arm bar.

Damage confirmed. GIZMO's sensors told him as his fist made contact with his opponent's side. There was significant give in the punch, indicating to him that the infected's ribs had been cracked at the very least. His current strength would be adequate for now. But as always, there were new problems to be dealt with.

His infected opponent, moving faster than GIZMO could immediately deal with twisted his body in such a way that GIZMO's grip was immediately lost. With his positioning and his posture in relation to GIZMO it was clear to him that he was going to try flipping him. There was no avoiding it but he could gain some benefit from this situation. As the infected heaved forward, wrenching his left arm GIZMO's feet left the ground, each one going to either of William's sides and locking at the ankles in the front. He'd be going down, but his opponent would be coming with him.

GIZMO clenched down hard on the man in a body scissor as he tumbled over his back, hitting hard on the ground but taking his infected opponent along for the ride. He would then begin to squeeze with all of the strength in his legs on his opponent's torso, trying to exploit the injury he had previously inflicted.

William’s plan didn’t exactly work. Sure, he was able to flip the pseudo man like he had originally planned to do however that was the only thing that went right. Upon flipping the man over he grabbed onto William using his legs and somehow was able to wrap his robotic legs around William’s chest from behind. Pulling him down with him. Sure the unnatural smelling man hit the ground first but he was still crushing William’s already cracked rib, and the other ribs too, with his legs. A grunt escaped his lips clenching his teeth in pain as he attempted to somehow get out of the sort of hold he was in avertedly stuck in. This was not how he had foreseen things going.

Using his elbow he attempted to shove it into the gut of pseudo man’s side or stomach, or head, or anything he could get a hold of. As the man was underneath him the only advantage William had was that the man couldn’t exactly move in the position he was in but it also made it so he could continually damage William by squeezing tighter and tighter while William could do no real damage, or so he thought. Until it dawned on him that yes he could do damage, just not damage in the natural sense. Clenching his abs together he forced himself to sit up before slamming his body, and thus the robo man’s body, back down on the ground.

“Get off me and fight me like a real man you arse!” This was done in the hopes of getting the man’s legs to lighten up enough so that William could pry them off somehow, or that the assailant would loosen them to fall off. If not William using all of his strength and what mobility he had left flipped himself up onto his feet and made movement to back himself into a wall.

Pressure sensors in the his legs told GIZMO that he was continuing to damage the infected's torso. Cracked ribs would be pressed further inwards towards vitals and uncracked ribs should begin to buckle. To most it would be a crippling injury but not to this infected. GIZMO in his mind ran through possible abilities that the thing in his clutches might have that aided him against the assault. Pain suppression? Redundant physiology? It was unclear. What was clear however as GIZMO was repeatedly slammed against the ground was that this metahuman still had plenty of fight left in him. So long as he had some wiggle room, the man above him would continue to fight and struggle. That would be his next goal to remove.

Modules 6-8: Incorporate Elastic Physiology the mental command sent the remaining modules immediately to work, remaking every fiber in GIZMO's being, giving it the kind of stretch and flexibility he would need while maintaining the crushing power and density of his muscles. Like boa constrictors his legs would wrap tightly around Williams's torso, GIZMO's feet each snaking a winding path down to William's ankles. With every gained inch he squeezed harder hoping to wring the consciousness straight out of his opponent. With his arms he would do the same, snaking them up William's chest then trying trying to tightly bind up his arms. It might end up a tangled mess if his opponent struggled but he'd have him. First no power to harm, now no power to run. As the man spoke, GIZMO would clench every fiber of his body with all of his might, attempting to force together his opponent's legs and draw an unending exhale from his mouth. Then GIZMO's calm voice would deliver one simple command into William's ear. "Submit or die inhuman."

Current Grid:

Throughout the entire ordeal William struggled, he fought, he pushed and pulled using all his strength. His unbroken ribs cracked and the ones that were broken stabbed into his organs. He’d been through worse in his nearly two hundred years of life and knew it hurt but after getting beat up as long as he had you learned to work through the pain. It was only a matter of going until you killed the other person so that he could crawl away and let his body heal its self. It always worked for him, he lost a hell of a lot but he never lost the fight inside. It was why he kept doing what he did, he loved the idea of a good fight and couldn’t wait for the next dance.

However, as the freak of nature’s body started spreading around constricting him further and making it so he was practically immobile he felt himself running out of air. Gasping at that last breath of fresh air and last bit of mobility he turned his head to face the freak and grinned. “Who you calling inhuman you bloody freak. Looked in a mirror lately?” Spitting right on the thing’s face he gasped out of air, eyes going black. He knew he had lost but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to get the last word in…or at least what he assumed was the last words. “Go to Hell you pile of robotic shit.” With that he passed out, but hey he put up a fight even if it was a once sided fight the entire time and he sort of rushed it instead of actually thinking things through.

((as much as I would have liked this topic to go on, there was no way William was getting out of that.))

Sensors in GIZMO's skin relayed back information on the meathuman's rapidly declining health. Blood flow was slowing throughout his body and the oxygen would soon be cut off to his brain. A sick pleasure vibrated through GIZMO's body as he thought on a job well done. "I am purpose" GIZMO would say to the thing in response to its mirror question. Then it would spit in his face, a futile attempt at insult for a being who was out of options. One quick squeeze again and the metahuman had lost consciousness, sight and sensors on his boy told him that. GIZMO would then in his mind signal back to HQ. "Infected subject retrieved, returning to HQ with subject in custody." Modules 4-5: Reallocate for Flight Harness and with the command the protective plating beneath GIZMO's skin would dissipate. In their place a ring of micro thrusters would emerge in a circle around his waist, each with full three dimensional movement. Activate thrusters, set a course for nearest Agency base. At the command the thrusters would fire at full power carrying GIZMO and his now detained metahuman to their next destination.

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