Chapter 11: A Task Completed

When the overseer announces that they will have the day off, Ayasha high-tails it to the secret room she had discovered three days earlier and teleports for what she hopes will be the last time to the home of Professor DeHaviland. She had received a text message in the wee hours of the morning from her grandfather. He had said he looked forward to seeing her in the morning and she knew exactly what that meant.

He is standing there patiently as she appears and walks over and gives him a hug; not something she would normally do; but considering that she may not see him again, finds it strangely fitting and finds that he returns her hug; another oddity considering his normally old-fashioned and reserved nature. “Everything is arranged… shall we finish this?” He asks and she nods, turning to the house, where the strange professor is standing in the doorway regarding them with his quirky smile.



Ascending the stairs, they enter the house and the doctor gives them a brief welcome, but knows they are a little pressed for time. Ukito is soon ensconced in the kitchen with a cup of tea with a particularly talkative housekeeper named Francine keeping his porcelain cup filled and his time filled with conversation. Ayasha is taken to the study where she is offered a glass of lemonade, which she takes and sips as he speaks.





“Everything is prepared as per your instructions and those of your Grandfather; we are expecting guests in only a few minutes but I thought to give you a chance to see what we have created and expect that should you survive your upcoming trials, we could perhaps do business again in the future.” Ayasha just nods, unsure of how to respond, taken by surprise by him knowing of her situation. “Thanks, that would be nice and I hope the same… you have been very accommodating.” She hopes that is sufficient. She has really never been good about expressing herself or articulating herself in anything other than anger and it give her an unfamiliar feeling of awkwardness. 

Sensing her unease, he lifts his glass. “Here is for the conclusion of our project and to your continued survival.” He says cheerfully. With the clinking of their glasses, each of them finishes their juice and sets the glasses down on the table.



“Follow me… I thought you’d want to see the fruits of our labors before everyone else.” He says leading her deeper into the house and takes a set of spiral stairs recessed into the floor that lead to the basement. It is dimly lit with candles and colored in reds and blacks as she follows him down the short hallway and passed by two doors, one on the left, then one on the right and wonders only idly what lay behind them. She is strangely hesitant about this but if she can stare down her enemies than this should be easy… but it’s not. 

Professor DeHaviland rests a hand on her shoulder warmly and turns to enter the last door they had passed and there is a slight metallic smell intermingled with chemicals as the door closes behind him.





She steels her will and opens the door. He is sitting at the computer playing chess and all she can see is the back of his red head and his orange shirt through the slats in the back of the chair. Like the rest of the basement, the room is decorated in red and black, but the coverlet on the bed, seat of the chair he is sitting on and an area rug on the floor are set in patterns reminiscent of his namesake and apparently chosen by him since it kind of clashes with the rest of the decor. 

“Blaze?” She asks, moving into the room so she can see his face and is taken by surprise at the hint of familiarity in it. It is very likely that this is what his namesake looked like when he had been a child and it’s wonderful to see that he seems to be smart, but she is curious if he has that endearing (and slightly annoying) childish nature he had.







He looks up from his game and regards her with a look of intense concentration. “Do I know you?” He asks after a moment. “I don’t think so… I am Ayasha Miakoda.” She replies slowly and he gets to his feet. “How do you know my name?” He asks and she just looks down at him. “I knew it when I saw you… if that makes any sense.” She says quietly. His smile is pure innocence and trust. “It’s kind of the same thing as thinking I have seen you before… but haven’t.” He replies with a happy smile. 

“The Professor told me some people were coming to take me home today… are you them?” He asks, suddenly serious to which she shakes her head sadly. “I would love to take you home and make sure your life is as easy as possible… but I just can’t.” He hugs her. “It’s okay, we can still be friends.” He says idly and reaches in to hug her and for the second time today feels the strange comfort in having someone give her a hug. “Of course we can…always.” She replies and pulls away from the boy, blinking to keep tears from forming. Even she hadn’t really known what the outcome of this venture would be… she had succeeded in giving Blaze a second chance.

He seems to sense how she is feeling. “I was reading something about Llamas the other day and wondered if Llamas’ had a religious leader, who would it be?” At first she thinks he is joking, but by his serious face, perhaps it is really something he wants to know. She thinks for a minute, but can’t really think of any intelligent response to his question. “I don’t think they have a religious leader.” She replies simply and he laughs… “Sure they do, the Dalai Llama!!” He replies, bursting out laughing; which is so contagious even Ayasha chuckles at the prospect of all the world’s llamas listening to the prayers and musings of probably the most holy man in the world. She tousles his hair playfully getting an impish grin from him. “Are you ready to meet your new family?” Ayasha asks, changing the mood back to sober and he shrugs noncommittally. “I guess.” He answers and she leads him out of the basement and into the living room.



A married couple, Hector and Marisa Medina are sitting on the sofa and look over at them as they walk into living room and seem on the border of rushing over to the boy. Blaze doesn’t seem to be frightened or even concerned when he sees them; in fact it seems to Ayasha that he is eager and a bit curious. He stops a few feet from the sofa and Ayasha goes to sit down on the loveseat to make sure he will be in good hands.





Hector gets to his feet and advances slowly on Blaze, who takes a couple steps towards him. The man smiles as he looks over the boy. “Hello Blaze, my name is Hector Medina and this is my wife Marisa. She and I would really like to have you come and stay with us. I have a gift for you, but don’t think that means you have to say yes.” He says warmly, producing a package from behind his wife’s back. “Thanks a lot!” He says happily and tears into it, revealing a stuffed bear made up to look like a rocker… complete with a spiked Mohawk, sunglasses and studded leather jacket.”Wow, it’s so cool!” He says hugging the bear close and something about the bear tickles the back of his memory, but he can’t figure out what. 

They chat for a few minutes before he is comfortable, then Blaze goes up to Marisa. “I’m Blaze… and I was hoping you could tell me why in the Lion King movie Simba’s dad died.” He says with a straight face looking up the woman. “I think it was because he was trampled by wildebeests.” She ventures a guess, having only seen the movie once or twice and only vaguely remembers the plot. He shakes his head sternly. “Nope… because he couldn’t Mufasa… get it… move fasta?” He says triumphantly with a laugh to which Marisa just laughs with a rueful shake of her head. 

To Ayasha; who is watching the exchange, it is definitely a sign that Blaze will get a second chance at the life he was cheated out of; maybe even a better one. She watches as Marisa crouches before the boy. “I want to tell you how much it would mean to me and Hector to have you come and stay with us; to be our son, and so we can be your parents.” She says soberly and the boy catches onto the seriousness. 

“We cannot have children of our own, but want nothing more than to have a family. We’d do our best to make sure you always have love and support… I won’t lie and tell you that everything will be perfect because it won’t. We will likely have disagreements, hurt feelings and maybe even yell at each other. But we will put your welfare above our own and try to give you the best life we can afford to.”



There are tears in young Blaze’s eyes as he extends his arms up to Marisa. “I would like a family.” He says softly, almost too softly for Ayasha to hear even a handful of feet away. With a long hug, they thank Professor DeHaviland for his time and service and meet with the social services workers that are waiting outside for them to sign the necessary paperwork and Ayasha watches them drive away from the window while waiting for her grandfather.



During that exchange, Professor DeHaviland is meeting with Ukito Miakoda in the study. “I have fulfilled my obligation to you in this matter. I can assume the debt that I owe you and yours is dispatched?” He asks hopefully and with a touch of nervousness. “It is indeed, you performed admirably in fulfilling what instructions I gave you. Perhaps the time will come when I will have debt to you.” He says simply but with a knowing smile and with a clasping of hands, the deal is concluded and Ukito walks out without a further word. Ayasha thanks him and bids farewell to her grandfather for what may be the last time and returns to the arena the way she came.





Simon and Saraya are heading for the courtyard above when they hear a strange grinding sound and see a door opening in what had seemed a solid wall. At first they are concerned for what could possibly be coming out, but when the door swings fully open, Ayasha steps out into the hall, freezing when she sees them standing there. All three are surprised by the situation and don’t see or hear the door close seamlessly behind Ayasha.



“So this is where you go when you disappear for hours… what’s in the secret room? I think I should let the overseer know so she can take care of it.” She growls as she steps towards Ayasha threateningly. “I can explain…” She stammers, but Saraya starts yelling at her again. “I think it’s extremely selfish of you to keep such a room from the rest of us… how do you know that we don’t want a place to hide too? What were you thinking keeping something like that a secret?” She demands. Before Ayasha can even begin to explain, the other woman throws her hands up and stalks away, muttering under her breath.





As Ayasha rounds the corner a moment later the far door is closing behind Saraya, but Simon is standing there in the main hall waiting for her. “I found it a while back…” She says defeated; assured that the crazy Saraya is already looking for Lainee and telling her all about Ayasha’s secret hideaway. “I was going to tell everyone, but I had something I needed to do and needed a quiet place to do it.” She finishes. 

Simon sighs heavily and adjusts his glasses. “I think you should have told us when you first found it… hopefully Saraya doesn’t do anything foolish.” He says in his squeaky tenor. “I hope so too…” She says softly, her sentence fading to a whisper of exhaled breath. They part ways once and she feels strangely fortunate to have Simon’s trust in this matter, hoping most ardently that Saraya didn’t go looking for Lainee or Katie.





Saraya is on the ramparts of the arena staring out at the beauty of Hidden Springs and wondering if she will ever be able to leave this place. She is upset about Ayasha keeping a secret like that, but the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that everyone likely has secrets. “Look at Troy being gay… he kept that a secret to the end. It didn’t really do him any good though.” She says in a low harsh whisper. “And poor Blaze having such a hard life, but he still kept laughing and joking like it never happened… I hope it helped him there at the end.” She continues rambling to herself for several minutes before she hears someone coming up behind her and turns to face Ayasha.

“I had meant to tell you…and the others” She stammers, not in her usual, confident way. “I just had something to do first.” She finishes in a rush. It is all unnecessary and Saraya is strangely cool and relaxed, definitely not her normal, psychotic self. “It’s alright… most of us have secrets… good to finally see yours.” She says idly. If only the woman truly knew her, she’d know that she has many secrets, and some of them dangerous enough to kill her if they are revealed. This is a slip, nothing more. “I appreciate your discretion, thank you.” Feeling like she has a mouthful of peanut butter by the time the last two words come out.



When Ayasha departs, she heads down to inspect the newly furnished barracks; which had had workers busy all day clearing out debris and building the new military style bunks instead of single beds. She finds Simon selecting a bunk and approaches him. She had had a change of heart in all her musings on the wall and tells him so. “I decided not to say anything to the overseer, or the others. Perhaps we can keep it as our little secret for a while too; maybe one of us will find some use for it. Simon isn’t normally one for secrets, but knows if even one of the others lets it slip to the overseer or enforcer, they could all be in serious trouble. In the end he agrees and lies down for a nap after today’s events.







Each of the others come to pick their bunks since the sun is going down outside and the workers have finally left. Owen and Katie are standing near one of them and she is surprisingly verbose and wanting to express to Owen how she feels about yesterday’s events. Since her manufacturing at Simoptic Industries thirty years before, she has tried to be a model of behavior for a simbot, never getting into trouble or causing harm to people, but this job has inevitably changed her; and not in a good way. She has grown more testy and violent in the company of such violent and potentially deadly people. 

The first one to call her “Rusty” was a woman named Noe White and she was defeated in the first ever competition 10 years before and called her that when she was “escorting” the young lady to the cell. The girl had tried to run, fearful for her life and nearly escaped from the arena before Katie brought her to heel. She screamed “RUSTY!!!” over and over as she was dragged to the cell forcefully. Even now Rowena and Noe’s harsh words echo in her cybernetic brain and bring her pain.

When Katie finishes telling part of her story, Owen is surprisingly sympathetic to the simbot as he was in a similar situation himself. “I was exactly like you are now, so I know what it feels like. I was in the military and like you it changed me the longer I was there.” He says sternly at first, but softer as he goes along and some of the others present stop to listen. 

“I was with my unit and we had charged into a warehouse where the enemy was supposedly hiding. We made contact and opened up with our guns in their position. We had searched long and hard for them and I was so overzealous that I didn’t hear the change of our orders until it was too late. Two men from my unit were dead and I had killed them. I was court-martialed and sent back to the world in disgrace.” He says with a sigh. “There are only two things you can do, either live with it… or leave it behind like I did.” With that he goes to lie down on the nearest bunk and pulls the blankets up around his shoulders facing the wall and it seems to those watching that he is crying.





Katie ponders her dilemma for a while, but eventually reaches the only logical conclusion in her mind; to find a way to get out of here before she does something worse than shredding the furniture. She finds Lainee in the training room, practicing on some dark stone and confronts her, though the woman still seems cross with her since she is smashing the stone block with an almost inhuman fury. “I want to resign my post.” She says plainly and the other woman turns to regard her with a sour look. “You signed a contract… there is no resignation without two weeks’ notice and likely this contest will be over by then.” She says gruffly. “I don’t want to do this anymore!” Katie reiterates, putting as much strength in her monotone voice that she can. “Too bad… I will take your words as a two weeks’ notice, but you signed the contract, so you are here until that two weeks is over.” She says acidly and starts to turn back to her board breaker.





Katie grabs her arm and spins her around roughly, her hard metallic hard lancing in to smack the overseer with enough force to shake the woman’s teeth loose. “How dare you!” She hisses as she recovers. “For that I should be expelled.” Katie says impassively. “I don’t think so… you leave when I say you leave… not a minute before!!” The ruckus brings everyone into the room to watch the event and Katie simply turns back to face the red haired overseer. “You don’t control me, the sponsors do and their rules state that should the enforcer ever strike the overseer, they are to be immediately removed from the arena. Now it is my wish to go… or should I slap you around again, harder this time?” She replies blandly. “Get your sorry ass out of here before I make your Rusty insides your outsides!!” she shouts at the retreating simbot, who pays her no mind as she walks out of the arena forever; with a certain levity to her spirit and if she could smile, she’d have one from ear to ear.






   

Outtakes from Last Sim Standing Part 1

On suggestion from one of my avid readers, I have compiled a few outtakes that didn't quite manage to make it into the story... some are for obvious reasons, some not so much.



Saraya Marquez is probably the most entertaining character, due to her unique facial expressions and insane trait. It seems to me here that she is trying to say something. perhaps "I don't know where you are going with that llama or why you have that can of whipped cream... but I don't want to know."



I don't whether she is trying to imitate a yeti or sasquatch or just Derping really hard from watching Blaze play foosball.



She always makes me laugh when she wants to work out in her formal wear... as though Tarik will ask her for a dance...



I don't remember what she was doing just before this was taken... I think she went swimming in the "drowning pool" or something... just goes to show there is no accounting for taste in her mind.



This Saraya's principal rival... such a muscle-headed cretin... more interested in his own physique than he is in flirting with the woman nearby.



"Whoa... what the fuck was a bear doing in the catacombs?" She says walking out of the crypt, hoping next time that it would be a fluffy bunny instead.



Blaze was also a bit of an entertainer... often sneaking up on others in the arena... no wonder no one liked him; or maybe Owen simply saw what was happening with the Llama that Saraya saw.



He often couldn't even wait five minutes after waking up to sieze the tactical advantage of someone's sleepiness for some well timed mischief.



Even Ayasha sometime felt the need to play pranks on people... Rowena had just gotten finished with her workout and as she rested, Ayasha decided to sneak up on her... this is the incident that started them down that path to a negative relationship.



Rowena herself always preferred drama to comedies... here she is pretending to pass out... or maybe look up Odette Perry's skirt... I wonder what Artemis Crumb is thinking seeing her on the floor like that?



A picture of Tarik's vacation home in Al-Simhara, where his character background took place. He shares this house with his wife and daughter, mom and dad.



Here he is hard at work as a mummy wrangler in one of the tombs of Al-Simhara... his motto is "Don't forget to beat your mummy everyday." He also works part-time pruning the flame fruit plants and nursing the third degree burns from the job.



His regular "Hotel" room in Sunset valley where he actually "lives" for sake of the game and this paparazzi; whom he doesn't know from Adam happens to be waiting. She attacks him and gives him a beat down... she must have heard he was a mummy beater.



Blaze and his best friend Thunder meeting up with the pretend record agent and his thug... things went sour and became a four way scrap... so much for it being called an emergency... that must be a very engrossing book the fireman is reading.



Finally, a picture of Troy and Owen's house in Sunset valley; after the remodel of course. I really should have left the pink columns and white paint since he was gay... he probably would've liked it better.

I hope you all enjoy the pictures and though I generally focus only on the action for the story; from now on though, I will be taking random pics in hopes of something good for a further Outtakes post.

   

Chapter 10: Rust and Ruin

As she stands watching the sunrise over the hills; Rowena is thinking back to the beginning of her present troubles; the REAL beginning. She remembers being happy once, when she was young and the whole world was new to her and she could be anything she wanted to be. From a young age she loved playing dress-up and having tea parties for all her stuffed animals and dolls and when her mother noticed on or around her eighth birthday, began taking her to fashion shows and entering her into the contests. Being such a pretty child, she won from time to time, enough that her mom stopped working and devoted all of her time to grooming her child for the next show. Rowena had enjoyed it at first, getting to wear such pretty outfits all the time and getting made up like the girls she saw on television or in movies. As she got a bit older, she grew to hate it, when it took over her life with the constant travel, staying in hotels, tutors for her classes and no friends; only competitors in the fairly cutthroat contests. Her mom habitually conspired to help her daughter win and eventually earned a bad reputation among the other mothers and fathers.

She was just barely a teenager when she finally told her mom how much she had grown to hate the lifestyle she was living and her mom shrugged it off like it didn’t concern her. In the four months that followed, she complained more and more and even started to rebel against what her mother wanted, but the was adamant; claiming she could do what SHE wanted to do when she was 18… not before. When Rowena started sabotaging her own wardrobe or makeup and intentionally making mistakes in her performances, her mom slowly relented about forcing her to do fashion shows.



She often visited her grandmother on weekends; when they were home anyway, and it wasn’t long before her mom Evelyn started taking her to see talent agents, often getting her brief spots on commercials or magazine advertisements for her time. That paid more than the winnings from the competitions, so her mom shifted her focus to get Rowena into drama programs and dance lessons, voice coaches. Since she couldn’t talk to her mom, she remembers sitting on the patio talking with her grandmother Beverly about everything in her life. The old woman was old-fashioned, but had lived a full life and was very good at giving advice. It was less than two years later that she signed a contract with a talent agent and he began putting her in commercials often, small parts in television sitcoms or dramas; where she excelled, but was intensely miserable.

She told her grandmother how she felt often; and it wasn’t long before she went to Evelyn; who argued hotly and at some length about knowing what’s best for HER daughter and demanded she stay out of it. She kept to herself after that and Rowena saw her fading into depression day by day and it broke her heart.



She died on Rowena birthday, casting a shroud over the already subdued affair; with only her and her mom at the party. She wept openly for weeks and often in her grief thought she saw her grandma pruning the roses in the garden, or standing beneath her favorite Elm tree in the front yard. Without the element of control her grandmother had had, Evelyn became even more domineering over her daughter, basically wanting her to do whatever it takes to be a star so she never had to work again. Rowena often considered running away and even suicide, but when she saw her grandmother again; waiting patiently beneath the elm, she went down to talk with her apparently restless spirit. Having someone to talk to helped immensely, but she was still miserable with how her life was going, but more importantly with her agent.

Her mom was ecstatic when the then fifteen year old Rowena came home one night and told her that she had signed a two year contract for a recurring role on a television drama; one her agent had promised often, but never quite delivered on. Her eyes were streaked with tears as she told her about it, and the older woman was so absorbed with her own thoughts of how to spend the money she was going to make that she failed to notice her eyes red from crying, or her rumpled and stained clothing. Only her grandmother knew what truly had happened that day at the office of her agent but only appeared to Rowena so was nothing more than a sounding board for her problems.

Her mom found out the hard way when she discovered that Rowena was pregnant and got furious at HER for mingling with her co-stars. Rowena had to explain what had happened with her agent; NOT her co-stars and all the woman said was “It happens all the time in this business honey… no need to get upset over it.” or some crock of horse shit like that. Rowena however had thought long and hard over her options and was angry and decidedly cold when she stated that she wanted to go to the police, but her mom tried to talk her out of it, not wanting to risk her career.

“It’s MY career mom, not yours, and I will risk it if I want!!” She remembers screaming as she went out the door and into the night; eventually finding herself at the police station where she filed a report against her now former agent; there was no chance in hell that she would work with him again after what had happened. It wasn’t long before he was jailed and though she didn’t have an agent, the production company honored her contract; and even wrote her pregnancy into the script for the show. Not believing in abortion, Rowena decided to have the baby but put it up for adoption even before she had a chance to hold the little girl in her arms.



She comes back to reality, realizing her eyes are brimming with tears and for the third time in as many days, her emotions have tried to burst out of her like a flood behind a dam. Since she gave her baby up all those years ago and went her own way from her wretched mother, she has tried to keep a tight rein on her emotions and has succeeded until just recently. Perhaps humans are just not supposed to keep their emotions bottled up like a shaken soda; since eventually they seek some form of egress. She wipes away the tears and feels better than she has in a long while having expelled much of the negative emotions that she kept pent up, and turns to cross the courtyard.





She isn't sure who, but someone had placed flowers on Troy’s grave and when she approaches, Owen is just standing there with a blank look on his face as he stares down at the headstone. She idly wonders what is going through that thick skull of his and walks closer, to pay her respects to Troy. 

Before she can close the distance, he turns and walks towards her, and she wonders how he knew that she was there. “I saw you standing on the wall like statue, just staring out over the lake for a long time… I wanted to check on you, but you seemed to not want any company.” He says walking up to her and takes in her reddish eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. “This is a big change for me.” He says simply. “I am a soldier, nothing more... so I am not familiar with these things I am feeling… or sharing them.” She takes in his own grave expression; as though he is trying hard not to tear up himself. 

They stand in mute silence for a long while staring down at both recent graves and feeling their own mortality creeping up behind them. The sharing of this silent and solemn connection between them is nothing like either of them has experienced before and the pained emotion transcends all need for words; which would likely be vastly insufficient to describe what they are feeling at any rate even if words could come.





Not far away, Tarik is just finishing up his morning prayers and looks up at the rising sun and blinks since it had been dark when he began. Rolling up his carpet, he heads down for something to break his fast, but stops when he sees K4T13 in the kitchen, ranting and raving to herself audibly and he hears the words “Rusty” and “Disrespectful Bitch” in between the incoherent jabbering and growling. 

Though he is a religious guy and was taught be tolerant of everyone whatever they look like, whatever their race or heritage is, or religious beliefs, he has a bit of an aversion to K4T13 from her being a constructed creature rather than one born in Allah’s image. She glares at him and while normally he would let it pass with a smile, he is in a particularly feisty mood. He didn’t like how she handled Troy at the end of the competition; even though he ran and it’s her job to keep that from happening, she could have been a little more restrained in doing her duty. “Ah, good morning my rusty friend… how are you doing?” He asks with a straight face, though he wants nothing more than to laugh in her face. Her monotone growl is all he hears as she storms past him and heads into the barracks.



The door to the kitchen closes behind her and her metal feet click and clack as she heads down the short hallway and into the barracks. “How dare that man insult me… rusty indeed… what a ridiculous hat he wears... I wouldn't be caught dead in that ugly thing.“She mutters to herself. She believes she is a good simbot, always keeping her joints lubricated with the finest oils and her metal shell scraped and polished with metal polish. “What a stupid purple haired bitch!” She says loudly about yesterday’s encounter and storms into the barracks to cool down before she does something stupid.





Just as she enters, she sees the purple coverlet on the bed beside the door and is again reminded of Rowena’s hair and choice of wardrobe. Without thinking at all, she lashes out with her metal hands and hears the sound of metal bending, wood splintering and fabric tearing as the bed is reduced to a small pile of rubble of the floor. That isn’t enough for her and she turns to the next nearest bed and likewise turns it into a pile of trash on the floor. A third, fourth and fifth bed fall to her wrath; not to mention the dresser she pulls apart piece at a time and chops it into toothpicks without the slightest effort. She finally stops and simply walks out of the room, her rage fully vented and with her calm demeanor once more.



Hearing the noise from the kitchen, Tarik waits for it to subside and finishes his waffles before risking a glance into the barracks and what he sees when he walks in stuns him. “By Allah.” He breathes at seeing the ruins of most of the furniture in the room. She could have easily done that to him there in the kitchen. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to call her Rusty, but he’d never had so much satisfaction in his life, so regrets it not.





He crosses the hall to the training room and sees Lainee the Overseer within, sitting cross-legged and meditating. She is breathing in and out easily and humming a katra so doesn’t hear him enter the room, or even call her name standing five feet from her. He waits several minutes for her to come out of her trance; treating it reverently like he would want from someone while he was praying. “Madam Overseer, perhaps you should take a look at the barracks… I believe our mechanical friend has made a mess.” He says simply, pointing across the hall with a contented smile.



Upon seeing the wreckage, Lainee immediately finds K4T13 in the living room admiring the fountain. “What did you do?” She growls angrily and advances on the Simbot, who takes a step or two backwards. “You couldn’t just go outside and shout yourself mute?” K4T13 surprisingly looks a bit sheepish. “They called me Rusty.” She trails off. Lainee grabs her shoulders. “I don’t care if they call you a rust-bucket, a hunk of junk or piece of robotic shit!” She shouts at her supposed companion. “Next time just let it go… call this your one chance to avoid ejection. The next round is supposed to start tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to postpone thanks to you… good job.” Lainee grumps and heads off to try and find a way to repair what the simbot had done to the barracks. When she talks to the sponsors, they assure her that it will be taken care of the following day and to give the contestants some free time.



The announcement goes out that they will have the afternoon and following day off, so Ayasha finds an out of the way place to make a call. Her phone had been "confiscated" when she first arrived, but they didn’t know she always keeps a spare hidden on her person, just in case. Sure it’s against the rules, but there is much going on in the arena that bends those same rules; if not breaking them completely.

When her grandfather answers his phone, she asks him for a favor; him already being privy to what has been happening after all and he agrees to help her without hesitation. She states step by step what needs done for the second phase of her little project and when he repeats back to her everything she needs, she hangs up the phone; content that should something happen to her now, her plans would still come to fruition without her. She goes off to the training room and finds some of the others already within, and soon falls into the familiar martial arts rhythm she has known from the time she was a child.