Chapter 12: Defense Denied

The room went silent at the announcement. Even the musicians put down their instruments. Only the NPC sever continued to do their tasks, uncaring about whatever nonsense the players were up to.

“Excuse me?” Jester asked, as he rose to his feet.

Beside him, Happy Hour followed suit. Her hands were full with Whiskers who had finished his fourth nap of the day. With a tinny yawn, the robopet looked at the new arrivals with interest.

“You flash around your proof vile cur?” One woman, dressed like a bandit, yelled.

“Proof?” Jester asked. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”

“Stealing as we said.” This came from the one at the front. A male avatar, dressed in patched together rags. His green coat was at odds with the yellow and purple pants he wore. The entire ensemble made Jester uncomfortable.

Happy Hour stepped forward, and with a flick of her head, tossed her inky black hair over her shoulder.

“You dare to accuse us as you walk our unlit path? We should drain you of blood and leave you as our thralls!”

One of Dam13n’s friends snorted at that.

“I… what?” That came from the bandit, who looked at Jester with confusion.

He shrugged. “She’s a role player.”

That got him a series of chuckles from all around the lounge.

“I am a vampire!” Happy Hour declared, her tone haughty. “I who hunt in the night. My darkened soul rejected by those who claim such things as light and joy. Deprived of death, I wander now! With an eternal hunger never to be quenched.”

“Tone it down,” Dam13n said. “We get it.”

“Yeah, girl.” Sascren patted Happy Hour’s shoulder. “Chill.”

“Look.” The oddly dressed avatar rubbed at his temple, even as he tried to get things back on track. “You’re coming with us. We’re getting our reward, and you can sort it out with the guards.”

“No.” Jester folded his arms. “I don’t think I will.”

“Oh, you don’t?” He asked. “How are you going to stop us?”

“I have a robot, and you don’t.”

That caused the group to share a look. The bandit nodded, and the leader turned back to Jester.

“Who says we don’t have a robot?”

“Because if you did, you would have made a bet by now. You know you can’t grab me here, and nothing would stop me from logging out. It’s why so many of these quests go unfinished. Scrappers have no way to enforce things.”

Jester shrugged. “So unless you’ve got one hidden in those weird pants of yours, we’re done here.”

“He might not.” That came from the bandit girl. “That doesn’t mean we’re all similarly challenged.”

Before they could make a formal challenge, an unfamiliar voice piped up.

“Outside.”

This came from an older gentleman, whose entire look reminded Jester of a funeral director. He was pointing with one finger towards the door.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a show. But not violence. Out.”

The bandit girl smirked, and she walked towards the door. Jester shot a look at Happy Hour, who scowled at the backs of the retreating group.

Dam13n moved to stand beside him.

“So man, we’re going after them, right?”

“We could stay inside,” Jester said. “I doubt they’ll start trouble if we hide.”

“We are not hiding.” Happy Hour’s voice brooked no argument. “They want to wade into the darkest puddles. They should suffer the consequences.”

Whiskers meowed and bared his miniature fangs.

Dam13n laughed. “Plus, I want to see her fight like this.”

“Me too!” Sascren said.

There was a general chorus of agreements from several other patrons.

“Fine,” Jester said. “Let’s get on with it.”

To his relief, the street was near deserted. The group of bounty hunters stood around nearby, with a new metallic edition. A dog sat at her heels, and Jester rolled his eyes. Canines were the most common animal companions. The company’s Developers designed a dozen different breeds and styles over the years.

This particular one was a bulldog, a large spiked collar around its neck. It growled as they approached.

“You ready for this thief?” The bandit girl asked.

“Sure,” Jester said. “Let’s get this done.”

Happy Hour moved forward, as the dog did the same.

Instead of her normal hands above her head stance, she appeared to clasp her shoulders. Her hands forming an X. It reminded him of the ways people once laid mummies to rest.

{3.
2.
1.
Fight!}

No sooner did the screen fade from Jester’s vision than the dog attacked.

Its short, but powerful legs propelled it forward. Large mouth opening to snap Happy Hour in two. She, however, didn’t stand there and take it. Jester watched her dodge, not a twirl, but a move of her hips that propelled her to the side.

Her hands moved slowly, extending away from her body like a coiling snake. The dog growled and spun as Happy Hour hummed. It was slow, sad. Jester’s attention moved to the dog, whose ear twitched.

Happy Hour bared her teeth at the dog. Her humming continued as he watched the dog, its tail wagging and its ears flicking to the beat. The mechanical canine appeared conflicted, before it lifted onto its hinds legs.

“Oh, what the hell?” The bandit girl yelled. “Cancel dance animation! Hunter, cut that out!”

The muscular dog paid no mind, hopping around on its back feet. It looked ridiculous, and Jester couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t the only one. Chuckles escaped the mouths of everyone who followed him from the lounge.

After a minute of watching the dog, Happy Hour stalked forward. She was still dancing, her feet kicking out. Each move making the long black dress sway and move. The dog seemed entranced, more so than any other time she’d used this ability.

Her hands shot out, and she grabbed the dog. With a quick motion, she picked it up and bit down into its neck. The plastic fangs crumpled against the metal. Jester winced as he glimpsed Sascren’s face. The woman did not look pleased.

“Happy Hour, what are you doing?” He yelled.

“Draining my victim.” She let the dog drop to the ground, the poor beast thudding against the cobblestone.

“We’re getting you out of that outfit as soon as possible,” Jester muttered to himself.

Dam13n laughed, but stopped when Jester shot a glare his way.

For the dog’s part, it recovered in quick succession. Though its tail and ears still wagged, it was on the attack. With a forceful lunge, it bit around one of Happy Hour’s legs and pulled.

A yelp filled the air as Happy Hour hit the ground. She growled at the dog and kicked at its face. Her heel hitting its nose and extending the blade of her shoes. The pink ballet flats looking even more at odds with her current outfit than normal.

“Mangy beast!” Happy Hour yelled, her humming stopped. “Let go of this undying servant.”

The dog did not.

At least, not until a blade caught it in the eye. Its jaw unclenched, and Happy Hour pulled her other leg free. With a few more curses about undeath and the moonlight, she continued to kick at the dog. It whined and moved away.

Jester sighed in relief, then winced as he saw the damage.

Her torn dress allowed her to see the bite marks on her legs. Cracks spider webbed throughout the wooden casing, which exposed different colored wires.

He doubted she could stand any time soon.

“Another one like that Hunter!” the bandit girl cried out.

Growls filled the night as the dog took the advice. It lunged, another basic attack. Happy Hour kicked out again, her hands returning to the X pattern. The dog dodged to the side and went for another attack.

She used her good leg to pin herself. This allowed her to both avoid the attack with a narrow margin, but also attack back. Her knife scraped through the side of the dog, eliciting another pained yelp. Another stab into the dog’s back legs when it tried to run away.

Jester crossed his fingers as he examined both the badly damaged robots.

He really didn’t want to deal with the guards today. Whiskers meowed encouragement, and several others called their own variations.

Happy Hour bared broken fangs as she took another kick at the dog. It dodged, and Jester winced as it ducked another blow.

“Come on, come on.” The bandit girl called. “You got this.”

Jester was worried she was right, especially when the dog moved forward low to the ground. Another dodge, and another spin from Happy Hour. She was using her good leg to propel herself, but Jester wasn’t sure it would be enough.

It turned out not to be.

A flailing kick caught allowed Hunter to grab it in his jaws. Another bite caused a crunching sound that made Jester’s stomach drop. He watched as Happy Hour's eyes met his, before the red glow faded out.

{You have lost
Reward: Go with the winner to Outskirts Jail. If you choose to log out, your avatar will remain and will follow the directed path.}

“I guess I’ll be seeing you later,” Jester said to Dam13n.

“You want me to come with you?” He asked.

Jester shook his head, even as Sascren walked over to envelop Dam13n in a hug.

“Not worth it. I won’t be there long. It’s not like I did anything.”

“But Whiskers—”

“—wasn’t what was stolen.”

Jester fiddled with his interface, watching as Happy Hour vanished from view. Her heart icon was still. While he was there, he shot a message to Kylee, who still showed offline. He doubted she would need him for anything, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

This shouldn’t take long, but who knew.

“Take care man,” Dam13n said.

“Yeah, I will.” Jester waved as he walked over to the other group. “Shall we?”

“You logging out?” The ladder said.

“Nope.”

Jester had thought about it, but decided against it. He was curious what the guards would say when the group arrived with him in tow.

“Alright, your call. We’re heading out!” the leader said.

The bandit threw him a look, and together the small squad walked towards The Outskirts.

***

As far as jails went in video games, The Outskirts’ version wasn’t the most impressive.

It was a basic stone block, with a few cells and a guardsman’s desk. A majority of the time, the cells were empty. The Developers didn’t make criminal NPCs often, and most intelligent Scrappers knew stealing from The Outskirts was pointless.

Why steal junk when you could go grab it for free after all?

Geartown proper didn’t even have a jail. The security in the store advanced enough to stop players in their tracks.

They added that feature after all the complaints from high-profile player merchants.

Multiple streamers and players would often try to get into highlight reels by giving themselves a five-fingered discount. It worked too. Thieves and scoundrels were a big part of the past updates. However, The Developers cracked down. With that, the mastermind thieves and bounty hunters lost a majority of their work.

Stationed at the jail was a guard Jester didn’t know. He was a heavy-set man, with a prominent forehead and bushy-eyebrows. His crumbled uniform made Jester wonder if he slept in the thing.

He quite possibly did. At least the jail sported an intact roof.

“What can I do ya for ladies and gents?” the guard asked.

“We’re here about the Handmade Hand-Me-Downs quest,” the group’s leader said.

“Certainly. Have you tracked down the varmit?”

“Got him right here,” the bandit girl said. “Here you are.”

Jester stumbled as a hand pushed him forward, and his eye caught the guards. The world stuttered. It didn’t last long, maybe ten seconds at most. However, every player in the building looked at each other nervously.

A glitch? That shouldn’t happen. Not anymore. The last one was years ago, nearer to the start of the game. A robot got stuck in a wall and no one could get it out. They’d ended up having to delete it and refund the player.

“What the hell?” The leader said.

“This is him, not him. Please go away into a cell.” The guard’s smile was stuck in place, even as his voice emanated from a closed mouth. He gestured, his hand clipping through the desk.

“What do we do?” The bandit asked.

“Put him in the cell? Maybe that will work it out?” The leader shrugged and grabbed onto Jester’s shoulder.

“Hang on,” Jester tried to wiggle free. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Nope.”

More hands latched onto him as he tried to duck away. The system aiding them in keeping him there. He’d lost the bet after all. Damnation.

“Come on,” he tried again as they forced him through the door. “We don’t know what this will do.”

“Fix itself, hopefully.”

Whiskers meowed from his shoulder, the cat batting at the hands. It bit and scratched at them, to no avail. The players simply ignored it. After a brutal shove, Jester grabbed Whiskers and held him tight. He felt his shoulder hit the ground, even as the robopet was safe in his arms.

“Good job. You failed. Please take this, leave. No.” The guard’s voice stayed the same.

With a clang, the door slammed shut. Jester pulled himself from the ground and ran to the bars.

“I’m innocent. You have to let me out!” He cried.

They ignored him as they checked through their menus.

“No reward.” That came from the bandit girl. “Why not?”

“Maybe he was innocent,” another man said.

“Can’t be.” The Leader shook his head. “Maybe we need to wait for the glitch to end.”

Jester crushed and dived into his menus. He didn’t have much, but even he knew how to email the customer service team. They needed to fix this.

{Report Name: Stuck in glitched Jail
Report Type: Glitch, Quest, Player
Report Details: A group of players falsely accused me of being the culprit to a stealing based quest. When they brought me to The Outskirts’ jail, the guard NPC started to glitch out. (Static facial expressions, clipping through table, strange way of speech) Instead of letting me go, they forced me into a cell.}

Players were complaining about not the getting quest rewards.

Email sent, he sat back and looked at Whiskers. The robopet mewled at him until he let go. Free from his arms, the robotic cat curled up on his lap. It snored, and Jester smiled. At least the glitch wasn’t affecting him.

A banging on the door made him look up. It was the bandit girl, who was scowling.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Jester said. “You threw me in here. This is on you.”

“I meant about our quest rewards, genius.” She was seething, her teeth clenched. “We didn’t get anything!”

“Could it be, oh I don’t know, that I didn’t do it?” Jester let the sarcasm rain freely from his voice. “You came after me. Damaged my robot. Then threw me into a glitched out room. This is on you.”

She kicked at the door.

“You’re mad I beat your stupid doll. Cut this out and get over it.”

“Bandi,” the leader said. “Leave him alone. I doubt he did this.”

“Of course he did!” She yelled back. “Look at him. Look how smug he is.”

Jester rolled his eyes and went back to playing with Whiskers. He pat the sleeping robopet, even as his brain put the pieces together. This actually was his fault.

Though, it also wasn’t.

If they should blame anyone, it was DollmakerMC.

Whiskers was stolen, technically.

Not by him, however. The system recognized this and tried to make him the culprit of the quest, as it was the same location. Because the actual culprit was still around, it couldn’t. Thus, why the guard both wanted him in the cell and free.

That led to the question about who was responsible. Why would anyone bother?

Quiet conversation dominated the room. Now Bandi had stopped yelling. He tuned it out, assuming it was more arguing over the loot. He simply needed to wait for the customer service team to get back to him. Which shouldn’t take long. People didn’t report glitches like this often.

“Hey.”

His eyes flicked to the door, where the leader had a ring of keys in his hand.

“We’ve talked it over, and we’ve decided to let you go and try again. See if we can’t replicate the same result.”

Jester nodded, happy enough to be let out. This entire situation was ridiculous.

With a swift hand, the leader inserted a key and turned it. There was no satisfying click of the lock opening. The leader tried another, and another. All gave the same result.

“None of these work?” He called over his shoulder.

“That’s all he has. Try them again?”

That worried Jester, especially when they continued to do nothing.

“Right,” The Leader said, backing away from the door. “So there might be a problem.”

“Oh, you think?” Jester was careful to put Whiskers down slowly.

He stood up, stepping over the still sleeping cat, who didn’t so much as twitch. “God damn it, open the door!”

“I can’t.” The Leader’s expression was apologetic. “Plus, the guard isn’t moving or responding anymore.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Did you send off a customer service email or something?”

“Sure, but nothing yet.”

Jester watched as The Leader backed away.

“You better not be thinking of abandoning me here.”

“I have to log off soon.”

“So what, I’m going to be stuck here?”

“No, not for long.” The Leader said. “The devs will figure this out.”

“Can you at least deliver a message for me?” Jester asked. “You know where the Scrappers Union is?”

“Sure?”

“Good, go tell Mistletail what happened.”

He wished he could do it himself, but she refused to use the friend list. Much preferring a face-to-face meeting than anything else.

“Got it. Can do.”

His backward movement was getting faster.

“Nice meeting you, man.”

“Screw you.”

The leader was gone before the words faded from the air.

Jester sighed and turned towards Whiskers.

“You’ve landed us both in a ton of trouble, you know that?”

Whiskers gave an uncaring snore.

Jester sighed again as he settled onto the uncomfortable wooden bench. His gaze locked on the blank wall in front of him. He was determined not to look at the unbeating heart icon that represented a broken Happy Hour.

That was a failing battle. He couldn’t help it. He needed her fixed. The machine at Markal’s wouldn’t do the job. They were too simple. Fine for a basic patch job, but not much else. Plus, he needed to upgrade her.

Something permanent.

There was only one person who he trusted with that job. Who he believed could even manage it.

For the third time that day, he shot a message off to Kylee.

However, this time, the little green light blinked back on. It was too much of a coincidence for her to have just logged back into the game. So she’d had him on mute, or herself on invisible. One of the two.

The message he received back was short. One line.

I’m coming.

He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he read those words.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all?

***

Kylee appeared before the customer service reps got back for him.

She hadn’t stopped glancing back at the guard the entire time. Even as she wrapped on his cell door to get his attention.

“Is he still out of it?” Jester asked, as he played with a now wide awake Whiskers.

The robopet batted at his undone shoelaces, as it rolled around on the floor. Every so often it would meow until he leaned down to give them a shake.

“The guard?” Kylee nodded. “Didn’t say a word to me when I entered.”

“Weird.”

“Support gotten back to you?”

“Nope.” Jester shrugged out of his shoes and left them for the cat.

The stone floor was cold on his feet, but he ignored it. Instead, focusing on Kylee. He could swear she looked worried beneath the anger.

“The Doll not with you?” She said.

“Nope,” Jester repeated. “Happy Hour is one of the things I wanted to talk about, however.”

“Of course she is.” The look of worry on Kylee’s face vanished in an instant.

“Kylee—”

“—No, no. You’re just like David. As soon as he got a Doll, she was all he could talk about.”

Jester winced. That was a name he hadn’t heard her use often. The cyberpunk boyfriend she’d left before they’d even met.

“How fun she was. How smart she was. How much he liked her hair. All the pretty dresses she wore to those stupid cyberpunk galas. His own little dress up doll.” Kylee was in full swing, apparently assured of their privacy.

“The only thing he didn’t mention was how much he liked her mouth. No, I needed to walk in on them to find that out.”

Jester’s eyes widened. He’d know that David had gotten attached. No one mentioned that it’d been that attached.

“I mean, why go for someone who cares about you, right?” Kylee continued, this time poking a finger past the bars. He winced at the contact. “You have your Doll now. Your little mechanical girlfriend. How can a girl compete?”

“You cared about me?” Jester said, knowing the words were stupid even as they came out of his mouth.

“Of course I did.” She stepped away, her hair swinging with each vigorous shake of her head. “We worked together. I helped you. You helped me. There was a bond there. And you threw it all away for her. Was it worth it?”

Tears welled in her eyes before running down her cheeks. “Was I not?”

Jester wasn’t sure what to say. What he could say. Sure, he’d thought about Kylee. The redhead was a friend, an employer, and a confident. He’d spent more than one late night at her side.

But he’d never thought she was interested. She’d always had plenty of potential suitors. Especially once she turned on her accent. Though Jester had to admit, he preferred her normal voice.

“I never thought you were interested.” He moved closer, his fingers gripping the bars. “You always had so many people around.”

“Hangers on. None that stayed.” She moved towards him and looked into his eyes. “You stayed.”

His brain was working in overdrive. This entire situation giving him tonal whiplash. He knew he needed to talk about Happy Hour, but even a moron could see right now wasn’t a good time.

“So, what now?” Jester asked, instead deciding to let her lead this discussion.

“We should talk this out.” She wiped her eyes. “Somewhere other than here.”

“I don’t disagree. However, I might be stuck for a bit.”

“True.” Kylee tapped a finger to her lips.

Before she could add anything, he received a message. His eyes widened at the contents. They couldn’t be serious. Almost all of it was marketing speak, things to keep him calm. However, there was one important line inside all of that. One that mentioned a time frame.

“The day before the Cup.”

Kylee looked at him with wide eyes. Neither spoke, which caused them both to jump when a voice boomed.

“Well, that’s not good.”

Andry strode into view, ignoring the guard. He marched to the cell, and gave Kylee a smile. “Ma’am.”

“Hi Andry,” Kylee said with a small giggle. She wiped her eyes again.

“Mistletail sent me to ask if you needed anything while you wait.” Andry rubbed at his bald head. “And to make sure you were ok, of course.”

“I’m fine, Andry.” Jester locked eyes with Kylee, who returned his gaze with an understanding nod. They both wished they could continue their previous discussion, but now wasn’t the time.

“What of Miss Happy Hour?”

That question got a wince from Kylee, but Jester soldiered on.

“Bad. Her last opponent damaged her badly. The bounty hunters who caught me broke her legs.”

“Those damn varmints. What’s the Damage?” Kylee asked, her southern accent coming back.

“Cracked casing. Exposed wires. Zero HP. Not sure if anything else didn’t have time to check.”

“That’s terrible.” Andry looked genuinely upset. “Will she recover Ma’am?”

“She will in my care. Jester?”

Jester looked at her in surprise, and Kylee nodded. A part of him was unsure, but what choice did he really have?

“Can you upgrade her?” He asked to buy himself some time.

“We’ll talk about that when she’s up and running.”

Her accent was gone, a fact that seemed to shock Andry.

“Are you going to be alright with her?”

“I’ll be fine Jester. This once anyway.”

Jester smiled and nodded. He sent a work request form to her. As Kylee accepted it, he watched the heart disappear.

“Well, at least one problem is potentially fixed.” Andry nodded in approval, even as he adjusted his armor. “Now, how can we help?”

“You have any cat toys?” Jester asked, as he looked at Whiskers. “I’d like my shoes back.”

Andry laughed.

“We can do that.”

“Actually, better idea.” Jester picked up the cat and placed it into Andry’s massive palm. “Can you return him to Mrs. Shivit? I want to see if that works for an early release.”

“Of course, consider it done.”

“If it doesn’t, can I have him back?” Jester asked. “I’ve grown to enjoy having him around.”

Andry smiled and nodded.

Jester watched as the two of them left to go about their respective tasks. His back met the cold stone of the wall as he stared at the ceiling. His mind whirling with what Kylee had told him.

With a thought, he messaged Dam13n. Maybe there was a way he could get her some payback for what David had done.