Chapter 14: Dance Debut

A multitude of faces turned in his direction as he entered the room.

No one spoke, and he had the oddest feeling he’d killed at least one conversation. He scanned the room as he moved to a corner and settled down to wait. It didn’t take long for him to spot the familiar spiky pink hair and cloth mask.

Virtualdream sat cross-legged on the ground, her back against a wall. Her mask appeared freshly cleaned, the black spiral vibrant against the fluffy white cloth. Jester tried not to stare too much, even as he did his best to monitor his competition.

Others seemed to have the same idea, glances flicking around the room. Several of those fell on Happy Hour, each time accompanied by annoyed frowns. She ignored the attention, instead focusing on the single door that would lead to the coliseum proper.

“I’m surprised you showed up.”

Jester jumped at the voice next to him, turning to see an Asian man in a fancy red coat. He wasn’t sure of the style, but he admired the way the golden trim seemed to blend into the fabric.

“Why?”

His tone was chilly, but the new arrival didn’t appear to mind.

“Figured someone would have bullied you out of it by now. I’m Charli33. Most folks call me Charlie.”

It took a moment for Jester to place the name before it came to him.

“You’re first up, right?”

“Right.” Charlie nodded. “Nervous?”

“Yeah, more than I thought I would be, in all honesty.” Jester did his best to ignore the glance Happy Hour tossed his way. “You?”

“About the same.” He ran a hand through spiked hair, the tips frosted white. “First big tournament, you know.”

“Not been happy with your robot choices so far?”

Charlie covered his mouth, barely hiding his grin.

“Says the guy entering with a doll.”

Jester couldn’t help but laughed along. “Well, I have more faith in her than I do in me.”

“Isn’t that the way?” Charlie shook his head. “Still, I’m surprised I scrounged up so much stuff. The Junkyards have been getting more interesting lately.”

That caught Jester off guard, though he supposed he’d been missing drop-offs for a bit. He hadn’t even taken the time to stare at the normal barge display.

“How so?”

“Oh, you know,” Charlie shrugged. “People have been finding some good stuff in the stacks. Not, like, new updates stuff? But closer than we’ve ever had before. This tournament should be fun for those watching.”

Jester tried to keep his smile up, but inside he was nervous. What did that mean? Everyone knew The Developers didn’t give stuff away for free. If they were aiding the Scrappers like this, something else was going on. He also didn’t like how that might change the outcome of these fights.

He’d have been lying to himself if he wasn’t banking on relying on Kylee to help him through this with good gear. A cheap strategy? Yes. But it would have worked.

“Sounds like it.”

The room filled with the sound of a gong, and the two names being shouted out.

Charlie reached out a hand. “Good luck in your fight today.”

“You as well.”

With that, Charlie hurried off, leaving Jester alone with two fewer people. Virtualdream still refused to look at them. Even as Jester’s conversation died off, others started. He did his best to pay attention to them, trying to see if they mentioned the same thing as Charlie.

None did.

With a frown, he shot a quick message off to Andry and some others he knew in The Scrappers Union. Andry was the first to get back to him, confirming what Charlie claimed. More and more expensive equipment was dropping in The Junkyards.

While good for the Scrappers, it meant the gangs were trying to reach for more territory. More disputes had come up while Jester was in prison, and Mistletail was finding herself swamped with work.

When Jester questioned if she was ok, Andry had assured him that several members were doing nothing but aiding her. Still, tensions were running high.

A sigh escaped his lips as he got the same message back from those online. Scrappers were reporting the same things. Things turning up where they shouldn’t be. Confusion about the reasons reigned throughout each chat group.

He didn’t like it. The entire thing felt wrong. Some items people claimed to have found were worth thousands of credits.

Sure, it happened occasionally. But like this? No. The Developers must have planned this.

“Jester?” Happy Hour spoke from his side.

“Yes?” he didn’t look over at her, too distracted by the flood of theories coming his way

“We are up soon.”

Jester looked up to see she was right. Only a few of the people remained. With a check of his schedule, he noticed they were third on the list. It appeared they weren’t going in order. Strange.

Virtualdream remained against the wall, her hands clasped together. While a part of him wanted to talk to her, he wasn’t sure what to say. With a shake of his leg, he pushed out of the corner and approached her. The soft footsteps behind him let him know Happy Hour followed suit.

“Hey.”

She looked up at him, giving a small wave before dropping her hand.

“I just wanted to say good luck and all that.”

“You too.”

Her voice was quiet, and he on closer examination it seemed she was repeatedly squeezing her hands.

“Are you ok?”

“I didn’t want to do this.” She didn’t look at him.

Instead, she fidgeted. Her fingers interlinking and pressing downwards. If this had been real life, Jester would have winced at the action.

“Rust_Wolf was supposed to enter. But he got tied up today with IRL stuff, but he wanted some representation for the gang.”

The words came out in a rush, and she sounded on the verge of tears

“I didn’t want to do this. I hoped it would be over by now.”

“I gotcha,” Jester said. “It’ll be ok. We won’t even need to get on stage as it were until it’s all over.”

“But what if I lose?” Her voice came out in a whisper as she glanced around towards the other competitors. “No offense, please. But you know the reputation of the dolls? If I don’t win here, our entire gang will be a laughingstock. Kangarookie will start up again.”

He winced and checked on Happy Hour. Her expression was as passive as it could get. It wasn’t like he didn’t get where she was coming from. If she didn’t win this, it would be a bad look. Though great for him, and those using him.

“Would you throw the fight?”

Several heads turned in their direction, and Jester stepped back with his hands up.

“Whoa. No.”

“Please?” Virtualdream stood. “I’ll pay you. How much would it take?”

“I’m not throwing the fight.” Jester waved his hands in the air. “Not happening. No.”

Her shoulders slumped. A part of him wanted to walk away from this conversation and leave her be. But it was clear it wasn’t a serious offer. Her tone was too stressed, and no one bothered to take part in match fixing at lower levels. It was a waste of time, and too big a risk.

“May I offer some advice?” Happy Hour asked as she stepped forward.

“Sure, why not?” Virtualdream sounded on the edge of hysterics.

“We should focus less on winning, and more on the show. People are paying to see this. Let’s make it fun. People are going to remember the party more for the antics than the perfectly cleaned staircase.”

That sounded far too much like Debrah’s advice for her to have come up with it. Her words clearly didn’t calm Virtualdream, but she was twitching less.

“I guess?”

“Exactly.” Happy Hour smiled. “Would you like to hold Whiskers?”

“...okay.”

The robopet jumped from Happy Hour to Virtualdream. It rubbed its metal head against her stomach and meowed softly. She giggled weakly and patted the cat. All around them, people were gawking. A few nudging each other and pointed. Jester didn’t care. He was glad that the scene hadn’t been bigger.

Whiskers had graduated to having his belly rubbed by the time the announcer called for them both. With evident reluctance, she handed the robotic kitten back to Jester.

“Thank you, and, well, sorry for before.”

“It’s fine, it happens.” Jester smiled at her as he gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”

“Oh, right. Yes. Lets.”

He followed her to the door, waiting for her to vanish through it. As he opened it, he moved through, and found himself in a room with a display screen against the wall. A glowing circle sat in the center of the room, big enough for even Virtualdream’s garbage truck to sit comfortably inside.

Words appeared on the screen.

[Please wait for the fight to commence. Please place your robot inside the glowing circle.]

“Happy Hour?”

She was already moving before he’d finished saying her name. She moved to the dead center before adjusting her glasses with her palm.

Together, they waited in silence until the screen changed. An image of the arena appeared, and Jester winced as it scanned the crowd. Every seat was full, and he spotted a few familiar faces in the VIP sections.

One was Debrah, Madame Merriam, sitting beside her. Another was DangerDeathless, his crisp white jumpsuit instantly recognizable. That surprised him. He would have thought one of the top players would have something better to do.

He noticed Scrappers and some of the BikerBrawler13 groupies who’d harassed him on the first day. Kylee wasn’t visible, but he got a look at what those signs he spotted before were.

A group of identical avatars all held identical signs over their head.

Printed on the signs in colorful bold letters was, ‘Won’t you think of the children?!’ Underneath the words was the face of a yellow-skinned cartoon character he vaguely recognized.

The announcer was introducing the match, but Jester was barely paying attention. His eyes staring at the stone ground. Gone was the sand, meaning that the dump truck wouldn’t have any issues with purchase.

A pity.

“Are you ready?” he asked Happy Hour.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well then, make the Dollhouse Proud.”

She sent a salute his way and vanished, just as the Announcer finished calling her name.

***

Happy Hour appeared on the side of the area, facing towards the middle.

Boos and cheers mixed in the crowd as she did so. Several throwing out blatant insults. Jester heard a chorus of Kangarookie’s dollfucker song being picked up by dozens of mouths. She took it in stride, bowing towards the audience, before straightening up and waiting.

The picture of poise, even amidst such turmoil.

In no time at all, ZZZ_Dozer appeared in the arena. The massive truck appeared a fraction above the stone floor. Not enough to cause damage, but enough everyone heard the suspension creak as it landed.

Cheers filled the air as it came in, with none of the booing Jester had expected. While he knew he was going to be unpopular, he’d hoped more of the Dollhouse would have showed up to support him.

Though perhaps they had and were staying quiet.

A screen flashed before him, showing off all the stats of the competitors.

                                                 FRANKENSTEIN CUP
                                                       FIRST ROUND
                     PRIZE POOL: 100,000 credits and 1000 dollars
                       ZZZ_DOZER                                      Happy Hour
                       Owner: Virtualdream                    Owner: Jester
                       Current HP: 15/15                         Current HP: 5/5
                       Damage Rating: Low                    Damage Rating: Medium
                       Armor Rating: Medium                Armor Rating: low
                       Speed rating: High                        Speed rating: low
Best Weapon: Hubcap Hypnosis Attachment Best Weapon: Throwing Knife Shoes
                       How Many Wins: 1                        How Many Wins: 4
                       How Many Losses: 0                     How Many Losses: 101

With the massive difference in speed rating, Happy Hour would struggle to dodge. Though at least the low damage meant her low armor would still allow her to take a fair amount of hits. Or well, five. He really needed to increase her health.

Laughter and chatting rippled through the crowd as they watched the screen that hung in the air.

This match would really be about how long it would take ZZZ_Dozer to work out its main attack was ineffective. Hopefully, the AI running the robot was a load of garbage, and the power core wasn’t much better. Maybe it would burn itself out?

Not for the first time, he wished he had more control over the outcome. But that was a worry for later.

“Get them Happy Hour,” He whispered.

A bell rang out, and Happy Hour moved. She shifted position, hand outstretched as though she carried a tea tray. With a bow towards the audience, her face lit up in a smile.

“Shall we treat our guest?”

As this was happening, the air filled with the rumble of an old petrol engine. The trucked shifted, clunking, filling the air as tires squealed. It reversed, and then moved forward, aiming its side at Happy Hour. The spirals began spinning, and Jester watched them move without any effect.

Happy Hour ignored the truck. Instead, she moved forward, hips swinging lazily from side to side. Before she rose to the point of one foot and spun. As she moved, Jester could see it. The way her invisible tray, and her skipping steps. She was moving around tables, a servant’s dance.

Tea was served, and customers bantered with. All the while, she hummed, the sound amplified by the arena. It was a joyous song, one he recognized from an old movie.

A song that made cleaning and chores fun. He could imagine a gaggle of children and junior staff following her. Each adding in their voices and steps to the intricate dance.

ZZZ_Dozer was not immune to her movements. It blinked its light, and turn its wheels this way and that as she moved towards it. All the while, the crown grew quieter, even the jeers becoming less cruel.

She had them captivated, and Jester along with her.

However, he knew it wouldn’t last. As fun as this was, even the dumbest of AI would recognize an approaching threat. Some routine clicked in the digital mind of ZZZ_Dozer, and it backed away. Its movements were strange, jerky as it continued to dance.

Jester couldn’t help but hum along with Happy Hour as he waited for the dump truck to make its move.

She took one more step before it acted. Tires screeched on stone as it moved forward, weaving left and right. That, he knew, was the only thing that saved her. With a spring, Happy Hour moved right as the machine weaved the tiniest bit to the left. With the hand not holding the imaginary tea set, she snagged onto the wing mirror.

Jester jumped from his seat, excitement coursing through him. Screams came from the crowd, as ZZZ_Dozer picked up speed. Happy Hour looked bizarre hanging onto this truck, the stars on her dress moving to all line up against the door.

A door that didn’t stray closed.

It flew open, and she abandoned her pose with the tea set, to clink on with both hands. Squeals filled the air as the truck braked and turned to avoid hitting the wall. The door flew closed, and Happy Hour smashed into the side. Her humming and dance stopped. ZZZ_Dozer no longer swerved about.

Jester crossed his fingers and prayed, unsure what she’d do to get out of this situation. One leg hit the other, and he saw the knife pop out of her shoe. With a powerful kick, she pierced the side of the door.

The truck bucked, jerking to the side as though trying to fling her off. It didn’t work. She kicked her other foot in, now anchored to the side. ZZZ_Dozer’s horn let out a series of angry beeps, even as it barreled towards the side of the arena.

Jester cursed, understanding the plan.

While it would take damage, if it started skidding, it would flatten Happy Hour. However, she wasn’t out of the running yet. With effort, she pulled one of her feet out and seemed to wait.

A loud crash filled the area.

Dust filled the air, and people screamed in triumph and fury. Jester’s heart was racing in the real world, he knew, as he looked for any signs of his robot. His friend. She would be fine. The whole knife thing was clearly the prelude to some kind of plan.

Noise filled his world as the vacuums started. Happy Hour was lying on the ground, one of her shoes missing. Her hair was a mess, and when he checked her screen, it showed her sitting on three HP.

The tumble had taken a fair amount out of her.

For ZZZ_Dozer’s part, it looked fine. It reversed out from the hole in the wall with a series of annoying beeps. Happy Hour rose to her feet after taking her other shoe off. She clutched it in her hand like a dagger, the small blade out once more.

It took a few moments for the dump truck to turn around. Time Happy Hour didn’t spend idly. Her dance started once more, but this time she moved towards the back of the truck. This didn’t help ZZZ_Dozer straighten up any, as the swerving started once more.

With a deft leap, Happy Hour grabbed onto the ladder that ran to the top of the truck. She clung on like a limpet, her dance once again stopped. With her free hand, she climbed.

ZZZ_Dozer seemed to have some way to sense her. Because from what Jester could tell, she wasn’t showing up in any of its mirrors. It reversed, this time with speed. Another simple attempt to ram her down.

However, she was faster. She reached the top and aimed down. Jester smiled and nodded. That made sense.

If crashing was going to be your robot’s primary mode of attack, you wouldn’t put the power core in the front.

The camera positioned changed, showing him an areal view. He cursed, noticing the bars that ran along the top. His hope was she could jump down and be done with it all. No such luck.

Happy Hour spent a precious second searching for a way to retract the bars and found none. With a turn of her head, she threw herself down flat and grabbed on to the bars with both hands. Another deafening crash, and more cheers. Her health dropped to one, but she was still alive.

Jester rose to his feet, hands clenched. Had ZZZ_Dozer thrown her off? If not, she might get a second chance.

ZZZ_Dozer drove forward, its engine roaring as it returned to the middle of the arena. There on the top was Happy Hour. Outfit torn, but still alive. The camera even got an excellent shot of the logo that Madame Merriam added to the back.

With one hand, she loosened her grip, and grabbed the show that between her teeth. She angled it downward and stuck her hand in the sole.

Then she hit the button.

Jester screamed in triumph as the blade flew, the metal projectile piercing the round orb. Sparks flew, and Happy Hour rolled from the top, landing with a heavy thump. She crawled away, even as the garbage truck went haywire.

It was reversing and moving forward. The horn went off at random intervals, even as the reverse and indicators lights blinked in a strange sequence. However, everyone seemed understood that this fight was over.

Groans and cheering filled the air, even as Happy Hour made her way to the edge of the area. She stopped and barely pulled herself up with one of the two undamaged walls.

She bowed to her opponent and then to the crowd. Earning herself more screams for the fans and haters alike. Jester wished he was out there. He wanted to celebrate with her, to tell her what a good job she did.

Eventually, the truck simply stopped moving.

The screen went black, replaced by three words.

[Enter the circle.]

He did as he was told and found himself whisked away to the arena.

The heat hit him first, followed shortly by the fact that Happy Hour was no longer present. Instead, across from him was Virtualdream, her cloth mason hiding any of her emotions from him. He doubted she was best pleased, though.

Still, she shook his hand, as the crowd boo’d and cheered, and sung offensive songs. Jester felt the thrill of it all hit at once. He couldn’t really believe he was standing there.

Soon enough, he found himself teleported away once more, returned to his dressing room. Happy Hour’s hug was so violent it almost knocked him to the floor. He returned it, beaming at her.

“We did it,” Jester said, still unsure.

“Yes, sir.”

She beamed at him and gave him a low bow. He returned the gesture without thinking and laughed.

[Please vacate the room for the next competitors.]

“We should go.” Jester gestured for the door, already seeing he’d received a large amount of messages.

“Yes, after you.”

Jester laughed, and together they set out for the exit.

***

The party at the Dollhouse was massive.

Once more, he found himself in the upstairs lounge, this time with all of his friends. Kylee sat chatting to Tiffany, as Dam13n stood with his arms around two avatars he didn’t recognize. Both were as beautiful as seemed to be his want.

Debrah was by the bar, chatting with the staff who were running about at full speed as they kept the drinks flowing. Jester was on his fourth, Happy Hour sitting beside him. She’d taken off the glasses, and was currently grinning.

“That was amazing.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jester agreed, lifting his drink.

“We could win the Final Cup like this,” she boasted, which got a laugh from everyone who overheard.

“Let’s not go that far. We did well.” Jester finished his drink, and motioned for another. “How did you figure out the core?”

“I was searching for it in the cab,” Happy Hour admitted. “When it wasn’t there, that was my second place to check.”

“You’re a smart girl. I do hope, boy, you’ve been treating her well?” Madame Merriam settled herself on Happy Hour’s other side. Her gaze travelling down the outfit. She clicked her tongue.

“Better than you’ve been treating my designs, at least.”

Jester nodded. “We didn’t really have time to fix anything.”

He was sure she was still on one HP, but he didn’t have time to check. As soon as they got out of the waiting room, they stumbled into an ambush of well-wishers. Dam13n and Tiffany were both there, the bouncer throwing him a suggestive wink that made him look away.

Debrah announced to him there was going to be a party and took his arm. Between her and Tiffany, he hadn’t had the chance to protest. Happy Hour had snidely remarked to Dam13n how, “Sir should be careful with his popularity.”

“I suppose so.” Madame Merriam’s turquoise hair rippled as she shook her head. “Still, I’m thinking of something different for the next outfit. Happy Hour dead, any suggestions?”

Jester wisely kept his mouth shut as Happy Hour pursed her lips.

“I did like that tutu.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” Madame Merriam gestured for a drink. She chose a clear liquid that came in a crystalline martini glass. “I was thinking something more, eye-catching.”

“Eye-catching, huh?” Jester mused.

“Oh, did you have a suggestion?” The look she shot him told him it had better be a good one.

“Well.”

He faltered, unsure how best to continue.

He knew she didn’t want to be dressers in anything revealing, not anything stupid. Plus, it should incorporate her dance theme somehow. An idea came to mind, but he wasn’t sure how it would work. It was so unfathomably stupid, but he had to admit he was curious.

“What about a bee?”

Madame Merriam looked as though she was about to stab him.

“Are you being serious?”

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was. It wasn’t like monster/animal girls were ever out of style.

“Yes. Not like a fur suit, don’t get me wrong.”

“What’s not a fur suit?”

He jumped, surprised to see Tiffany on his other side.

“What he wants to dress Happy Hour as. A bee, I tell you.” Madame Merriam sounded affronted, her gestures wild enough she almost spilled the glass.

“So, a bee, but not a fur suit? Like a sexy Halloween bee?” Tiffany stroked her chin. “I could see that.”

“I didn’t know that was your thing, Jester,” Kylee said.

“It’s not, but come on. Dancing. Bees. It fits.” He looked around at the all the women staring at him.

“I... I suppose.” Madame Merriam said at last. “And it would be interesting to work in stripes.”

“Oh, a spear for her, then?” Kylee said. “That’s relatively cheap to make.”

Jester shook his head as the four of them chatted away. He’d been expecting Happy Hour to disagree, and she did whenever mentions of it being too revealing came about.

He found himself drowsy, the adrenaline and the excitement hitting him at once. As he closed his eyes, the noise of the party faded. His mind drifting off.

People always said sleeping in VR was strange.

He supposed he would find out.