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Chapter Text

This match was completely against you, as if this day wanted to finish you off completely.

The prisoner received a shock of horror near the basement, where he was put literally in the first seconds of the match, not having time to connect the generators with a common charge and help the scattered team with decoding. The gravedigger, as the only rescuer in your team, immediately went to help from the other end of the map, but unfortunately, neither he nor the prisoner managed to get out of there alive. Five minutes from the start, where it is important to fix at least one generator, are completely ruined by two chairmen, who were disqualified from playing on five cars after that. Neither you nor the toy seller decided to come to the aid of Andrew dying on a chair against Robbie.

The axe boy was certainly quite adept at this sort of thing, and on the map you're in right now. Hospital. The roots of his trees are too tenacious, and the presence of swampy puddles on the ground played into his hands very much and often slowed down the survivor during the chase, allowing the little hunter to deftly and lightning strike a fatal blow with his sharp axe blade. Personally, of course, you don't know if this is true or not, because your first match is happening right now. Except for Annie, whom you met at the table, no one has briefed you on the course of the case, so now you have to understand everything yourself. Having found another generator in a convenient place, you hear a loud scream from Annie, notifying that she, too, is out of order and is currently repeating the fate of the two previous team members. When you hear the desired phrase: "don't save me," you rush away from the typewriter so that the hunter doesn't track down the antenna movement and go in search of the very dungeon that you briefly heard about from the gravedigger. Naturally, you don't know what it looks like and where it is, the only thing you were told was that it was a chance at life.

For the first time since you came here, you were really completely scared and afraid for your life. While searching for a dungeon, you did not immediately notice an owl that was hooting nearby, clearly mocking you when the crows began to gather over your head, cawing loudly and attracting unnecessary attention. As if by the law of meanness, your heart begins to beat desperately, and your hands shake violently. The hunter is approaching directly to you and is clearly not friendly, looking at how he raises his arm free of weapons. A second later, a painful groan escapes from your chest when something transparent passes through you, forcing you to lift your feet off the ground and rush away. Suddenly it seemed that this match lasted for several hours, your throat was dry, your clothes turned red, and the blood itself had already dried up in places, covered with a dilapidated crust. You slowly stop when the heart calms down. The building you found yourself near loomed over you like a shadow. Turned around and resting your back against the wall at the very exit, slowly sit down and clamp your mouth with dirty hands, feeling hot tears mixed with snot flow down your wrist.

— I found it!! Oh..what, won't you run away? - an unexpected voice brings you out of a state of hysteria and you sharply lift your head, seeing in front of you an interested, tall boy in tattered, dirty clothes, with a canvas bag on his head and a huge axe behind his back. The sudden guest, in turn, in surprise tilts the bag to the side and shifts from one foot to the other, apparently assessing your silence as "no". — Well, well, don't cry! It's a game! You need to have fun in it, not be sad!

He explodes, as if burned, and throwing the axe aside, grabs your face in his hands, while you feel that the baby pushes his blue claws into wet cheeks, scratching the skin. For a minute you sit in complete silence until you realize that small drops of blood are mixed with tears. Goosebumps run through your body and your shoulders continue to shudder from another influx of tears.

— Here's what, look what I have! - also, suddenly the boy pulls away and enthusiastically pulls out of his pocket a couple of candies, beautifully shimmering with orange light in the sun, immediately handing them to you, almost shoving them into the sleeves of your clothes.

You don't react to this cute gesture in any way, you just move away in fright, squeezing your lips into a thin strip.

— Ts, listen, I understand that being a survivor and fighting with the dead, God-like creatures every day is out of the lives of many people, but this is not a reason to give up and cry. I'll give you some tips, because Robbie likes to help! - having introduced himself, he picks up the axe and deftly climbs onto the handle, crossing his arms over his chest. — Firstly, the dungeon appears when the survivors start two generators completely. The dungeon itself can be anywhere, even we hunters don't always know where it can be. The main detail is to look at the ground, or rather, at the leaves. They are fluttering in the wind, and if you notice it, then you are close to the goal. Secondly, not all hunters are as kind as I am. You're new, right? Others won't babysit you like that, so don't expect mercy. Thirdly, let's get acquainted, have a nice game in the future!

Clapping his hands, Robbie jumps back to you and raises the axe directly over your head, casually inserting the blade directly into your throat and immediately pulling it out, specifically touching several nerve endings. The last thing you see before they put you on a chair and fix your weakened body with a seat belt is how even more blood splashes on the hunter's clothes and hands. The chair soars into the sky, and Robbie himself quietly apologizes, knowing full well that you will vomit from all this upon arrival at the estate, and throwing the axe behind his back, victoriously leaves the place.

Chapter Text

Solo Showdown.

A place where the strongest player wins by ruthlessly killing other fighters. At least that's all you learned from the memo you were handed before being sent to the battlefield.

But let's take it in order.

You are a new fighter and everything you know about Star Park is a whole nothing, apart from the fact that the map you are on is called a brawl in Rockwall, and there are nine other players on it besides you, who need to be eliminated and take first place for a good reward.

The scale of this map is huge. There are a large number of bushes and small stones everywhere, behind which it is quite convenient to hide. As you look around for a long time or are motionless, a poisonous fog appears along the edges of the map. It became clear from the clouds of smoke that take the shape of a skull, having a corresponding smell and color. Wrinkling your nose, you go deep into the field, hoping not to get lost and go to the center to assess the situation.

While you are exploring the bushes, a notification sometimes sounds in the arena, and icons of different fighters are shown in the sky: the defeated and the survivors. Surprisingly, all these fighters are not very similar to those you have seen in various programs of fights without rules. At least, there were definitely no children and animals there.

Once you finally get out of the bushes, there are five players left in the arena, including you. Gunshots, incomprehensible remarks and signs of a fight are heard nearby. Small balls of smoke and fuss in the bushes confirm that this is not the end yet and you decide to retreat, so as not to get into an unnecessary fight and even more so not to be in the epicenter of events. After changing the pace of walking, quickly walk away from the place and find another place hidden from prying eyes, intending to hide.

– Hey! - suddenly a high, in some sense even squeaky voice is heard from the bushes behind you, clearly addressed to you. Holding the weapon tighter for security purposes, you immediately turn around, looking fearfully at the one in front of you. He was a tall man with purple hair and a black robe. There was an embroidery of a bat on his chest, and in his hands was a shovel, on the handle of which hung a lantern. Quite an unusual look for everyone who has met you before, but it certainly does not compare with his painfully pale skin and slightly pointed ears. – New girl, right?

After examining him from head to toe, you awkwardly nod, concentrating your attention on what is above his head - the number three, which glowed with a pleasant green light.

– Then it's clear. You know, someone's company, especially in a place like this, is never superfluous. How do you like the idea of uniting? - a circle constantly flashes under the feet of an unknown person and you stare more and more in surprise, wondering what it is. Of course, in addition to this, you have a couple more in mind, for example, who is this person, what kind of place is this, do you have the same circle, why are all these people so aggressively opposed to each other, but there is simply no time to answer all this and ask another dozen questions, because your attention is again returns to the fighter opposite you. He does not cause you to trust, and exploring the map in the company of an incomprehensible person, whom it is difficult to even call a person, is clearly not the best idea.

— This..this is a single collision, right? - nervously straightening your hair, you step back to the bushes in which you originally wanted to hide, seeing how the interlocutor, on the contrary, takes a step closer.

– And what? Being here alone is dangerous, and it's also quite boring. Don't be afraid, I don't want to hurt you in any way. he smiles falsely, baring his snow-white fangs.

— I...I don't know you!

– A good opportunity to introduce yourself! I am Mortis the Magnificent, the messenger of doom! - proudly puffing out his chest, he gracefully straightens his hair without interrupting eye contact with you. "What's your name, honey?"

For a minute you struggle with the desire to tell your name, but the fear still takes over and you step back, shaking your head. To hell with this guy, you're quite comfortable alone.

— I refuse to help you, it's not fair!

- The interlocutor nods understandingly and you already want to relax, naively believing that he will leave, but his contemptuous look and dark expression of his face says the opposite.

– It's a pity. In that case, your soul is mine! - a small bat appears on Mortis' shoulder. Her little furry body is pressed against his cheek, and her red beady eyes are fixed on you.

As you know, bats don't attack humans, but the fact that one individual is on the move in daylight casts doubt on your knowledge of them. Not wanting to stay here any longer, you are about to leave, when Mortis orders you to stop and raises the shovel, pointing its tip at your figure. Suddenly, from behind his back, with a loud squeak, a whole flock flies out, quickly approaching you. A second, and they dig into your whole body, and you scream, in a pathetic attempt to brush off these creatures. In addition to them, the owner himself is nearby, quickly striking with a shovel, almost depriving you of life.

And now, when the percentage of your health is almost at zero, someone pushes your body aside, changing places with you. Unable to stand on your feet, you fall, looking at the picture in front of your nose. A young guy jumps right at Mortis, and the scarf on his neck strikes him several blows that become fatal for him. The place where he just stood, smoke and a green jar appear, which is immediately attracted to the guy. Recovering from the shock, quickly examining yourself for the presence of blood or some injuries, not noticing how the guy burns you with his eyes. As soon as he gets tired of being unnoticed, he roughly pulls you closer to him with a scarf.

– Are you brainless? Standing almost in the middle of the map even without amplifiers, even the dumbest will not come to mind! - the teenager hisses angrily, painfully poking his finger into your forehead. His bangs hide half of his face, but you swear he has a nervous tic. Guiltily lowering your eyes to the floor, you immediately glance at this guy, or rather, his clothes. A red vest with badges and a white T-shirt with some kind of inscription do not attract attention as much as his palms in dark fingerless gloves and nails painted black. To all this, only piercing is missing. – Hey, can you hear me? Stop staring!

Obediently nodding, you feel your face turning red. Not wanting to show it to the guy, you unconsciously grab his scarf to pull away a little, but your hand is also roughly pushed aside.

– Don't touch the scarf! - he snorts, and with one sharp movement puts you on your feet, pulling away first and crossing his arms over his chest. Watching you dust yourself off, he snorts once again and turns away, about to leave.

— Wait, what's your name? - your question makes him stop. While waiting for an answer, you shift from one foot to the other, curiously examining his back.

– Edgar, my name is Edgar. Now get out of here before someone else attacks you. - the last time he looks at you, he sighs softly, shaking his head. – I can't believe I'm doing this..

And with these words, pushing off from the ground, Edgar disappears, leaving a few green jars that were previously left from Mortis. Following his advice, you obediently run away, but then stop, suddenly realizing that you are the only survivor on this field. At the same second, the sky and the immediate surroundings dissipate like particles, illuminating the earth with a bright light. Instead of all this, your name and icon appear in the air, informing that you have taken the first place. The icon of that teenager is right below you, saying that he is in second place, and Mortis, who tried to attack you, took third. There were other fighters besides them, but you didn't care.

All that attracted your attention at that moment was Edgar, who in turn also did not take his eyes off you attentively.

Chapter Text

Wild West.

A place that popular culture portrays as something romantic. Let it be scary, dirty, but there is always a place for adventure and, importantly, freedom. Only at this time and in this place were you truly free.

You are a deputy sheriff, keep an eye on the local order together with Colonel Ruffs. How you got here after a long journey, the story is complicated, but it was in this place, where many had to face harsh living conditions, that you found relative peace. At least for a while. As we know, high crime flourished at lightning speed in the wild West. Every second died from a bullet in a fight or from another violent act. Medicine in this place was developed rather poorly, given that the doctors had no idea about the occurrence of common diseases, what can we say about wounded people. Therefore, you were quite loaded when the "Golden Hand Gang" began to actively manifest its existence and wreak havoc.

Personally, you have encountered them only a couple of times - when Amber De La Vega and Colt asked for your help in tracking the escape routes of criminals. Although all you have learned is that they take away the stolen goods on a cart, which the locals call "a house on wheels, where a fortune teller lives." Basically, you've been sitting on the sidelines, watching Ruffs, Amber and Colt fail, losing sight of the gang. You were simply forbidden to participate, regardless of your status as an assistant. It is unclear whether from concern, or from simple disrespect.

The only thing you were allowed to know (and what you independently scouted, in an attempt to somehow help), is the identity. No, the names and their lives were unknown to you, but those who are in the gang, you remember well. This trio looked bright, especially considering that their leader is a woman with a golden arm, possibly over the age of fifty or seventy, taking into account her gray hair and wrinkles on her face. A boy in a multicolored poncho and a real live scarf (there was no limit to your surprise when you saw that the scarf itself could move and carry stolen bags of gold) looked like a teenager who barely turned eighteen, but the most amazing person whose nature you still haven't figured out is a woman in a blue mask and a white suit. Her whole being looked mysterious and magical, and the way she handled the cards often made you say "wow". But the most interesting thing is that every time you watched their antics, the woman's only eye was always fixed on you.

*

Today turned out to be surprisingly calm. After being on duty and helping cowboys in breeding cows, you went to the Barley Bar to relax with your friends and colleagues. All you were going to do this evening was to watch Amber win the Foal for the thousandth time, and refresh yourself with drinks, after which you will fall asleep peacefully, and in the morning again with a heavy heart to watch robbers rob a local bank.
I don't want to say that your life has been difficult. You liked your job, you felt responsible and proud of the place you live in, but the daily injustice made you regret a lot.
But now, sitting comfortably in a chair and watching Colt try to look at your friend's cards to make the next move, you relax again, enjoying a moment of silence and forgetting about the pressing problems. Perhaps at such moments it is worth thanking the sheriff, who do not let you into dangerous places. You're still alive, and you've never been shot. In fact, you live quietly, helping the city and doing everything possible to make it better.

Closing your eyes and laughing at the guy's upset cry, your attention is attracted by the sound of a creaking door, which is quickly passed by people whose figures you know too well.

The golden Hand gang.

Jumping up in surprise and bulging your eyes, your hands automatically reach for the weapon belt, but the cold voice of the leader "sit down" throws your body into a tremor, refusing to object. This is your first time in such a situation, so you turn your gaze to calm colleagues who nod confidently to you. Sitting back down to the Colt, you excitedly watch as a woman in a blue mask sits down opposite you and throws a deck of cards.
– What does all this mean? - The pink-haired man tightens his grip on his weapon and looks defiantly at the boy in a multicolored poncho that was behind the fortune-teller's back, or at the gray-haired woman who, out of boredom, has already managed to light a cigar. – Do you think that you can rob this city without fear, and then calmly come here and play cards with us? Aren't you afraid of being caught right now?
Indeed, the life expectancy of a caught criminal was usually unenviable, especially one who was accused of murder or robbery. Justice in the wild West was swift and brutal, and appeals on charges were very rare. You and the gang itself knew that it was better for the criminal if he surrendered to the official authorities, because in that case he was simply hanged, but not to the local cops, playing cards.

– Relax kid, we're here for a reason. The woman raises her hand in surrender and continues stroking her electric weapon. – We have an interesting offer.
— And what is it?
– You will play with our eccentric until one victory. You win - we give up and admit everything, we win - we have a demand.
— What's the catch? - Amber rests her cheek on her hand, looking curiously at the cards on the table.
— None, I assure you. The only thing that can confuse you is our requirement in case of victory. - The gray-haired woman shrugs her shoulders and slyly looks you straight in the face, baring her teeth. – If you are so afraid, we can leave, but it is unlikely that you will have such a chance to catch us again.
Amber and Colt look at each other, doubt in their eyes, but after a second both nod, pushing their mugs of alcohol aside.
– I see you've made up your mind, great, then let's start.

So, everything you know about cards is nothing, if anything, you don't even quite understand what they are going to play. As the arsonist explained to you, the criminals want to play mixed poker, the rules of which are known in principle to everyone present. The fortune teller dealt two cards to the players at the table, then laid out five more community cards on the table in stages, which were going to be used to build poker combinations by any of the players. During four rounds of trading, players place bets in the pot. In the final, personal cards are opened, and the player who has collected the strongest combination wins the pot. The owner of the bank of the game, as the gang leader herself explained to you, will be the one who will have the highest combination of cards in his hands.

– Whoever collects more certain cards or forces others to abandon the game will win. Everything is decided by the ability to think and see ahead, dear. - The gang leader notices your misunderstanding and explains everything along the way. It is strange that she herself did not participate in this, only passively explaining everything to you in clever words and jokingly rolling her eyes at your confusion. What you obviously didn't notice was how a woman in a white suit was watching you with a gaze for almost the entire time of counting the cards in the deck.

The first round after the cards were dealt began with trading. Amber and Colt have placed bets, which are important aspects in the game. As expected, immediately after the first equalization, Colt flew out, exceeding his blinds by five times, hopefully transferring positions to Amber, while both girls, in turn, professionally reduced all losses to a minimum. Throughout the game, the fortune teller added a turn after each round, continuing to calmly dial twenty-one numbers. It did not last long, the arsonist did not reach the river, watching with horror as the woman laid out the collected royal flush on the table - the oldest deck of single cards. And that meant the gang had won.
– Already? Predictable. - The gray-haired woman slapped her knee and got up, throwing the gun over her shoulder, nodding her head at the door.
Your losing team wasted no time, also rose up, threatening criminals with weapons.
— What is your requirement? Gold? A flock of cows? Hiding from the authorities? - Colt proudly scrolls the revolver in his hands, as if he did not lose at the very beginning of the game. - What can you be interested in?
– Us? - Suddenly the boy raises his voice and buries his nose in the scarf, looking at the fortune teller who skillfully shuffled the cards in her hands. – This is for her.
When everyone looked at the culprit, she confidently pointed her finger at you, taking a step forward.
— This girl is our demand.

You?

There was a pause, which was destroyed by the sound of an electric discharge. The leader deftly aims at the sheriff's hand, knocking down his weapon, and the boy quickly throws Amber out the door to face Ruffs and start fighting with him. But you don't pay all your attention to it and can't help, all you felt at that moment were the strong hands of a woman at your waist and someone else's voice in your head, eclipsing your own thoughts. A little more and you will lose consciousness.

— This battle is not for you. Your job is to familiarize yourself with my demands, mine is to take you by force if you refuse to cooperate. In the end, Poor Tara always gets what she wants.

You.

Chapter Text

Read to the song: Cansis - kiss me.(Nightcore).
(The lyrics of the song are slightly changed in the second part.)

— Damn, damn, damn, damn!
– Hey, are you okay?

Fixing your red and swollen eyes on Buzz, you clench your teeth tighter, viciously exhaling.

— No Buzz, I'm not fucking okay. This match is my last hope for the twenty-fifth rank, and they are.. - You look with disgust at Collet, who picks up the eighth crystal in a row and laughs loudly, running away and allowing Edgar to cover his back from the blow of Karl's pickaxe. — and these freaks have just practically trampled on my hope.

A moment later, and Karl is sent back to the place of rebirth, Edgar passes two more crystals to the toothy girl. A countdown begins on the field, notifying about the match coming to an end.

— This is a failure, do you hear? Failure, eight points will be taken away from me again and I will be left with nothing. - unable to hold back tears, you turn away and sob loudly. Disgusting day, map, place, people, life, all this is disgusting. I would like to finish this as soon as possible and go back to my room, where no one will mock and laugh at your loss and low rank.

9

8

7

6

5

4

BLUE TEAM
COUNTDOWN

Eyes wide open and turning around, you notice how Buzz, barely alive, throws a float into the nearest bushes and is attracted to them, holding ten crystals for victory.

Eyes wide open and turning around, you notice how Buzz, barely alive, throws a float into the nearest bushes and is attracted to them, holding ten crystals for victory.

– Well, why are you up, snotty? Can you at least help him? - Karl's squeaky voice pulls you out of a state of shock and clutching your weapon tighter, you move to the center, not allowing the enemy team to even get close to the place where the rescuer is hiding. This is your last chance.

4

3

2

1

THE FIGHT IS OVER
YOUR TEAM IS THE BEST!

Your name and the names of two comrades are displayed on the panel, assigning you earned cups. You get as many as seven in this match and the panel notifies you of the new twenty-fifth rank. About yours. The long-awaited new rank. Not believing your luck, you run up to Buzz and emotionally kiss him hard on the nose of the suit, leaving a bright lipstick mark.

— Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea what this means to me! - Finally, hugging the shocked rescuer even tighter, you pull out your mobile and rush to your room, with the intention of telling this joyful news to your best friend Bibi.

Who knew it would mean as much to Buzz himself.

*

– Well, will you be there soon? - Bibi nervously adjusts the white mask on her face and gently pushes you in the side so as not to spoil the painstaking work on her face. – At a pace, otherwise Emz will kill us. You know her tantrums perfectly well.

— I'm almost done, just a second.. - Evenly distributing the foundation with a brush, you admire yourself in the mirror for the last time and finally get up, earning a relieved look from a friend. Fortunately, you picked up the clothes in advance, before Bibi's arrival. — It wasn't that long I was going to!

*

The Bad Randomness concert is a large-scale event that cannot be missed in any way. The three band members gather the entire Starr Park in a Velocirapture and sing their songs until the morning. Bibi, like yourself, just adore this band and go to every concert of it. In addition, today another important reason to visit this place is that the band has announced the writing of a new song. It can't be said that you're not surprised, because only today was a rather difficult match, how does Buzz even have the strength to release a new song this evening. But you, a person who lives an ordinary life, do not understand this, so you probably do not care about it. After all, you are just a fan and an acquaintance of these "people", no more, no less.

Finally, having appeared next to the stage, and having listened to an angry tirade from Emz, the light on the set darkens, and familiar figures appear on the stage: bad boy Buzz, thresher poco and wild stu. The cry of the fans spreads throughout the territory, the crowd begins to splash out energy and warm up. You and Bibi are tossed from side to side, but it doesn't last that long. The next second, and here comes a phrase familiar to everyone.

Hello, Starr Park,
We are "Bad Random"
And we have come to spoil your mood!

Buzz scrolls the microphone in his hand and noticing you, lowers his glasses to wink at you, and then steps back a little, raising his hand and folding it in a rocker gesture.

We are pleased to present to your attention our new song. About three guys, one two, three, let's go!

Stu and Poko instantly start playing the tune of a new song, and the leader takes a deep breath, preparing to sing. Why do you think he's worried? Isn't this a familiar environment for him? Or maybe it's a new song?

I remember once, maybe it was the first match of the day..

You have come into my heart, my eyes are wide open for you..

I feel the warmth from you, take my face again..

It took you a while to realize what the song was about.

KISS ME, KISS ME, KISS ME AGAIN!!

– Since when does Buzz dedicate songs to you? - Bibi says it loudly in your ear, in an attempt to shout over the crowd and not hit your nose, but you don't pay attention to it. This song is about you.

I'm sad, remember, one day you'll start loving me..

Yes, girl, yes, I love you more than myself..and always..

Touch my lips in the dark, imagine your skin, remember..

Buzz's hand drops a little lower, and his index finger points directly at your confused figure. This song is really about you.

I WANT TO KISS YOU, KISS YOU, KISS YOU AGAIN!!

You clearly have access to the backstage.

Chapter Text

Stu is enough...a problematic robot. And it's not at all in terms of character, if his model has one at all, but rather in terms of his work, namely, stuntman and maintenance.

When Lola invited you to work as a mechanic in an extreme show, you did not immediately agree. Even though it was a chance in a million, with the opportunity to get a good experience, you were thinking. Of course, being in the company of another famous trinity was something amazing, but the work of a technician has never attracted you. All that prompted me to agree to this position was friendship with the actress and lack of money.

There were practically no problems with establishing relationships: you became good friends with Bonnie and Janet during your month of work, were often present at their performances, did their makeup and even managed to play a couple of matches together in your free time. What can not be said about the Stu itself. The relationship with him can be called..normal. Very good, but not bad either. At least you weren't given the nickname "Miss bitch" that Lola had. You didn't manage to avoid his stupid flirtation, but you were proud that you weren't called "baby" so often. Although other employees did not deny that there was something between you, you and Stu did not bother much about it. Before this service.

The problem is definitely in the work. The public is crazy about accidents involving a robot. Even if it looks epic or cool when the lights cover the path along which the robot flies skyward at great speed, and then, after doing a somersault, hits the ground with a loud clang and after rolling a couple of meters burns its own tires, losing an arm in parallel, it never seemed to you something spectacular. All that matters to you is that after the show you will have to collect the leftovers all over the attraction, and then restore the poor guy in pieces all night, which is not exactly what you like.

All the evenings were meticulously the same, just like today. After another accident and a half-hour quest "collect all the details", you finally almost finished fixing the Stu. But the atmosphere in the workshop where you both were was different. There was something that wasn't there before, but it's hard for you to explain it. Perhaps because of fatigue and lack of healthy sleep, what you suffer from since you have been working in this place.

— Did you like today's show? I think I was on a roll. - Stu spreads his legs at your request, giving a wider view of his chest plate. For convenience, you have to literally settle on his hips to examine the damaged parts closer. Nothing unusual, the usual ritual of repair, except that today Stu's hands rest much longer on your hips, and even have the audacity to squeeze them in the inner side.
– Maybe, but I didn't really look at the trick, I was more absorbed in the spectacle after it. - You grin at your own pun, untangling a few wires and cutting off the uneven ones. The robot, in turn, writhes and makes a quiet grunt when you unknowingly roughly pull one of the tangled wires, touching the core. – Is everything okay or should I stop?

The robot shakes his head, leaning back in his chair, and you sigh heavily, restraining anger. Stu never complained about anything, and you had obvious problems with aggression in this regard.
A little more time passes, the tangle of multicolored wires and nuts is getting smaller, which does not stop pleasing you. While you are screwing the penultimate bolt into the panel, fixing the necessary cable, the stuntman suddenly fidgets, scaring you and causing sparks with his movement.

– Well, what's wrong? Stop complicating my work for me and sit in peace for a couple of minutes, it's not that hard! - You clench your teeth in anger and hiss at him, trying not to make it worse. If the wire burns, you will have to change almost the entire side, and this is work for another extra hour.

— It seems that today is not just me having a difficult day, right? Laughing softly, his body stiffens, and after a second his hands pull you into his lap. A couple of tools fall to the floor, the wires from its plate hang directly on you, and the wrench rests directly on the ribs.

– What are you doing?! - Choking with embarrassment and shock, you rest your elbows on his chest. Not to say that you are against such a situation, on the contrary, your heart now seems to have stopped for a moment, and beat much harder, but your mind keeps saying the opposite. He is a robot, and you are a mechanic, your duty is to finish the repair.

— I like what you do with me every service. The way you touch my wires, the way you make a face, and the way you take me apart. - Stu brings his face as close to yours as possible, you feel the warmth from him and his gears inside. - But I've never had the courage to ask for more.

A.
Awareness is finally coming to you.
He feels the excitement of how you sort out his insides. That's what's in the workshop right now.
Wasting no time, you plunge your hands directly into the wires, not caring that you may be electrocuted, and the stuntman emits a surprised sigh, which is replaced by a screeching groan. Too sudden.

– Should I stop? - You ask, carefully running your hands over the metal inside, and stopping at the loose wiring and the loose bolt. The robot's body twitches, and the hands tighten around your waist. – One word from you and I'll stop it if you want.

He is silent for a couple of seconds, as if considering your words, but then briefly shakes his head, fixing a careful look on your face. "Keep going."

Grinning broadly, you continue to explore his insides, trying to find out what else can cause such a violent reaction. Having focused attention on the very bolt that you did not have time to fix, you wrap two fingers around it, cooling it with your cold hands and feeling how steam is released from the gears. The robot gasps loudly, and its limbs involuntarily twitch, creating a tremor effect. His own fingers move higher and higher in a chaotic manner, trying to catch on to something stronger, but instead he scratches your back so hard that it seems as if your clothes are about to tear.

— That's it, it's fine. - You give him a break, lightly kissing him on the corner of his mechanical mouth and smiling, noticing his heavy breathing.

Your hands pull a few wires again, causing the Stu to emit more and more distorted groans, while its processor releases more and more hot steam. It burns, but you don't care, you pursue the idea of fixing the remnants and giving the robot pleasure. Having found thick cables, you pull them not yourself, literally forcing the stuntman to lean on you, thrusting the prong into the metal ring until it clicks. Having done the same with another cable, you arch your back from the feeling that your ribs are about to be broken, but Stu suddenly freezes, lowering his head on your shoulder, and his fans slow down. A momentary panic sweeps through your head, as suddenly everything picks up pace anew and the robot rises, exhaling contentedly.

– Is everything all right? - Closing the flap and connecting the plate, which notifies of the finished work, you intend to rise, as you are roughly seated back on your knees.

— Yes, everything is much better than ever. But how do you like the idea, now should I take a closer look at you? There's still time before my next show.

Chapter Text

You hate Surge. His loud sound of raising the level, the way the ground shakes under him, the way he shows off, and even the way he accidentally spills energy drinks on others during the attack.

But you love him. His height, his far from high level of intelligence, his loud speech. Completely and completely, all his shortcomings and good qualities.

A disgusting feeling of unrequited love presses on your lungs when Surge gently smiles at Max, who is battered in a fight and tears the remnants of foliage from the battle with Sprout from her hood. He helps her up and squeezes her hand tightly in his, promising that the fight with you and Mortis is the last stage before they go to hang out together. You, in turn, grip the weapon tighter, confidently thinking that you will not spare any of them. Even if it's your best friend and a robot you're madly in love with.

*
PLACE #2

Mortis grins wryly, shaking his head. It would be a victory, your number of cans and your health made it easy to defeat them. But you just..they just couldn't deliver the last blow to the wounded Volt, allowing Mortis to do it. Max appeared as quickly as she disappeared, the poisonous smoke was running out and she managed to kill you both.

— You know, if it wasn't for your weakness, we would have taken the first place long ago. - A light tap on the shoulder, and you raise your eyebrows, turning around at the vampire. Nothing but pity is written on his face, for the first time you become disgusted with your feelings. — Admit it to him already and don't spoil the life of others.

He laughs in his nasty, squeaky voice at his own joke and leaves the waiting room, leaving you alone. A little more, and you will cry from your own helplessness.

Confess?

No. Nonsense.

*

— Hey y/n! Do you think Max will like this energy drink? It's with cherry and lemon, this taste reminds me of her. - Surge carefully examines the back of the jar and turns to you for advice.

Just fucking stop calling my name before I go crazy.

– I... I don't know. She usually drinks her usual one, but you can try it, she will be happy. - You smile tightly. This is your party, but even here he does not forget about it.

And what kind of taste do you associate me with? Say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say say

— You're right, she likes to try something new, I think she'll like my modest choice. Hey, are you okay? - The robot gently pushes you in the back, taking you away from your thoughts. — Bro? Bro?

Of course, you're just friends. Comrades, like brother and sister, best friends, a good duo of JUST friends. Has he ever given you a reason to feel special somehow? From the very beginning, this priority was given to Max and you understood that you could never be like her. We must finally understand that not everyone has a happy ending in love. Try again, click "next" and forget this stage as a nightmare.

*
– Unrequited love of a girl for a guy often brings pain and torment into a girl's existence, regardless of the age when she captured an inexperienced heart. Its danger lies in the inability to adequately perceive the storm of emotions and react judiciously.

- And what was that about, Barley? - An army of small glasses with alcohol has formed around you. Even though the serving robot diluted the drinks with juice as best he could, you didn't want to stop, continuing to numb the moral pain with drinking.

– To the fact that unrequited love leads to alienation from the external environment and alcohol abuse. Y/n, stop it before you force me to close the entrance to this bar for you. Even Colt and Dino don't act so upset. - Barley shakes his head and takes the remaining stacks to wash them. His gestures make it clear that he is not completely satisfied with you and that he does not want to listen to your complaints for the sixth day in a row about this. Don't think, he respects you as a client and of course, you are his good friend who is always ready to cover his back from a blow, but what you do to yourself does not cause him due delight. – He doesn't have to love you because you love him, everyone has the right to choose. Besides, he seems happy with her.

*

Unrequited love is a romantic feeling that for one reason or another does not find a visible response in the object to which it is directed. A split heart is subject to healing. Whatever your previous experience, pay attention to your condition now and remember that unrequited love is just a feeling.

The feeling that makes you cry, looking at how Max kisses Surge on the robotic cheek, and he, in turn, picks her up in his arms when their team wins in a knockout. Meg shyly claps next to her, sincerely rejoicing at the victory.

You have a thorny path ahead of you.

Chapter Text

— You know..I've never played something like this, to be honest, it's the first time in my life I've seen such interesting board games. - The guy is sorting through the dice, throwing them on the task board. The cubes give out the number 16 and his lips open, quietly counting off the desired cells, grinning. — Fine.

Task number five - explore the sensitive points of the partner's body using a felt-tip pen and the alphabet.

Wanderer turns to you, watching as your body, bound by straps, wriggles either in protest, or in a desire to move on to the task as soon as possible. Saliva flows from his mouth, staining a leather gag with a bronze clasp, and his eyes are tightly tied with a black satin ribbon. Several traces are already visible on your thighs, indicating how much the puppet is interested in your offer to play the game before Valentine's Day.

— Do you think I'd break the rule if I used my fingers?

*

— So silly.

It seems that he examined your body "according to the rule" of the game, "accidentally" brings you to orgasm, and now complains, having fun with such a game, overexcites you to tears over and over again, turning you into a red sobbing mess. The puppet does not use a marker, he does not use the alphabet, he just continues to move his thumb in a circle, listening to you whimper, squeezing his warmth around his cold finger, almost choking and coughing from tears. Wanderer is the same partner who does not follow the rules of the game, but creates his own. Is it a good idea to play board games with him? Think before you ask.