Portal Posi Boss Battle: Snakeception

Prompt #6: Posi’s whole schtick is portals– there’s got to be one somewhere in the mech. Draw or write about your character finding a portal inside the mech and disrupting it using Posi’s own methods to damage the mech.

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“Ugh… Couldn’t she use a digital model of television to make these portal heads? It would be so much easier to program.” 

 

Creedance shrugged, ignoring Zayne’s whining as she fiddled with the slightly munched rabbit-ear antenna atop a recently dispatched portal-bot. 

 

“But she didn’t, so we must use what we have been given,” the paper demon murmured, her eyes glued to the screen, suppressing the urge to just leave and put all of this behind her. Everything in her screamed danger, warned her about the odds, reminded her of how easily her leg had been crushed beyond the point of recovery… 

 

“Wait… go back a little, hon. I think I heard something.”

 

Creed nodded and made the miniscule adjustment. 

 

“I didn’t hear anything,” Zayne sighed, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just go. If Posi comes back-”

 

“Why would Posi come back?” Creed snapped. Her hand quickly fled to her mouth, and she looked guiltily up at Zayne. “... We… We’re so sorry… We didn’t mean to yell…”

The naga raised an eyebrow, looking down his nose at her with a mixed look of pity, ridicule, and mild confusion. 

“... That was yelling?” 

 

“Back just a little bit, Miss Creed…” 

 

Focusing intently, the centaur with her ear pressed to the automaton’s boxy casing seemed to be ignoring them, trying to cue in on something residing in the static… Something the others couldn’t hear. However, it was taking some time, so it was only natural that the impromptu team would grow… restless. 

 

“But I’m assuming Posi would come back for the same reason a criminal might go back down their own path while being chased by hounds… Standard evasion technique.” 

 

“You know a lot about evasion, hon?” Sigrid chuckled softly, soft, nearly white-blonde curls wreathing her face as she glanced up at him. “I thought you did the modeling thing… Who knew you were a dangerous man… - oh wait… Miss Creed… slowly, if you will.” 

 

“... Anyone’s dangerous if you push them too far,” Creedance pointed out before holding her breath and oh-so-gently easing the antenna until… 

 

BZZT

 

All three jumped back, hanging on baited breath as a picture appeared on the screen. A plain, metal corridor, seeming to stretch for miles, laid out before them. Lit by naught but red emergency lighting, the soft sound of grinding, mostly eclipsed by mechanical hums, ticks, shrieks, and whirs, came through the speakers. 

 

The first to snap out of their confusion, Zayne sighed, a touch exasperated. 

 

“And now you’re going to insist we all go through.” 

 

“... Not really,” Sigrid murmured. “It was made by a Thath… so it stands to reason that it’s not exactly made with centaur mobility in mind. So…” she slowly turned to Zayne, looking him up and down with a ‘please forgive me’ grimace, and gestured to him, “that leaves only you.” 

 

“... Only me?” Zayne, turning somehow paler than usual, looked between the paper demon and the centaur. “Oh hells no! You could not pay me to go in there by myself!”

“Well… we need someone out here to keep the portal open on this side so you can leave quick if things go south…” Sigrid explained, even as Zayne continued to wave his hands and shake his head. “You’re the only one who-”

“No, no. No-no, and let me think… No!” the naga cut her off. “There is no discussion we can have where I agree to this.”

“Mister Reruda, please…” 

 

Reruda? That Reruda? As in Kalen Reruda’s son? As far as Creed remembered, that was his name. She’d learned many of the Windrider family’s business partners during her time as the perfect, dutiful daughter, and, while they weren’t directly connected, she certainly knew of the Reruda merchant family’s only son. While wasn’t much interested in business himself…  

 

Creed swallowed hard. 

 

“If you do this…” she murmured softly, “We can introduce you to our family.” 

 

“... I am… so sorry, Miss Creedance,” Zayne said smoothly, with a slightly exaggerated eye roll. “I value my freedom too much to be tied down right now.”

“Tied dow- Oh, no, We…” the paper demon sighed, took a deep breath, and stuck out her hand. “We don’t think we ever introduced ourself properly. Creedance Windrider. Daughter of-”

“Wait… the Windrider family? The dancers, right?” he asked, ignoring the hand that was offered to him, his cheeks momentarily flushing. Clearly that got his interest.

 

Creed simply nodded, feeling her chest tighten and her stomach turn over. Swinging her family’s name around like it meant anything to her… She needed to leave. No more… No-

 

A gentle hand lighted on her shoulder, and Creed looked up at the kindly centaur-lady, who cast a sunny smile in her direction. Oddly… it did draw off some of the spiraling going on between the paper demon’s horns. 

 

Zayne chewed his lip, looking through the open portal. The offer was tempting… After all, the Windriders were professionals in every sense of the word, and even if none of them wanted to participate in front of the camera, he could probably learn some excellent moves from them behind it. … But was it worth facing Posi by himself?

 

“Just go in, do some damage, and leave,” Sigrid suggested, as if she could hear his thoughts. “Even if you distract her, it’ll slow down her damage. It might not even take ten minutes. Just fiddle with something that looks important.”

“...”

 

“...” 

 

“... Fine… But keep an eye on me if you can… Just in case,” Zayne finally agreed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the promise of future connections finally won over his self-preservation. 

 

“Thank you so much!” Sigrid clapped softly, her sunny smile so bright, it was nearly blinding. “Good luck, Mister Reruda.”  

 

“Ah-ah,” he chuckled, reaching towards the portal screen, ribbons of light extending out to take him. “It’s break a leg in the performance industry. Don’t put that ‘good luck’ curse on me.” 

 

And with that, he was sucked through into the hall. 

 

Sigrid and Creed huddled together in front of the screen, watching him closely. 

 

“... Break a leg…” 

It was as much of a breath of air as true words, but Sigrid heard it. With all gentleness, she slipped her arm around Creed’s shoulders, whispering in soft agreement. 

“Break a leg.”