2925/Mistakes Were Made

Mistakes Were Made
Date of Scene:	30 January 2026
Location:	Game Crown Arcade
Synopsis:	Hawkmoth ends up akumatizing another nerd against his will. This time? Nerd ragw is pretty choice. Not enough to stop Kunzite, Tuxedo Mask, Amy, Rashmi, Ace, and Tsukkiko, though.
Cast of Characters:	Gabriel Agreste, Mamoru Chiba, 222, Ikiko Hisakata, Rashmi Terios, Amanda Faust, Kazuo Saitou

---

Gabriel Agreste has posed:
Hawkmoth had had it all planned out. Game Center Crown was an arcade visited by many children - including his own son, based on his debit and credit card history, not that this was about Adrien - amd Mai Elcamino had been thusly dispatched to ruin the days of multiple targets, all so he could be spoiled for choice when the moment to strike came.

And Mai had done her work beautifully, he had to admit - she had callously slapped a soda from the hands of a girl who had cut her off in line, spilling the syrupy sweet beverage across the skirts and shirts of not one, but three girls, ruining their outing. One of them had been humiliated in front of a boy she desperately wanted the attention of, and her horrified rage in particular, especially when Mai simply walked off to the reward of a bonus for hitting so many targets at once had only aggravated her still farther.

The akuma had taken two minutes. Two minutes to cross Mitakihara and into Juuban, to weave towards the three girls -

Only for it to all go wrong.

There were the three girls - but they were no longer crying, no longer spitting rage under their breaths, dabbing at their eyes. Instead, they were smiling bashfully, being walked out the door - by one Usagi Tsukino, calling to her friends that she'd be back later, having taken the jacket off her own back to help one of the girls cover up, her white blouse having been stained beyond recovery. Another is wearing a jacket loaned by another friend, tied around her waist to hide the stain.

"Seriously, I'm sorry about that girl, she can be so rude and it's not necessary at all," the akuma hears, as its three targets are whisked away. Hawkmoth's jaw drops, as he realizes that... that girl... has ruined his plans...

And from the corner of the arcade, by the row of crane games, comes a furious shout.

"SERIOUSLY?! THIS IS THE LEVEL OF QUALITY THEY'RE GOING WITH? FOR SAILOR V?!?"

A tall young man in a Sailor V T-shirt is shaking a plush Sailor V toy, gripping it tight enough that his knuckles are white. He looks it over in disgust and throws it back at the machine, causing it to bounce and roll across the ground.

"Her skirt isn't even the right color!"

Hawkmoth freezes, flashbacks to a furious, ranting anime fan surging to the forefront of his mind.

<<No! Don't you dare! The nerds are never worth ->>

The akuma, having been fluttering aimlessly through the air, ignores it's creator entirely, sinking into the back of the young man's shirt. The dark light of transformation overtakes him.

<<Brûle en l?enfer!>>

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"--don't know what her problem was," Mamoru's still shaking his head as he eats Usagi's fries and drinks her milkshake.

What, he'll get her new when she comes back. "But I hope--"

And then there's the sound of nerdrage, and the black-haired teenager in the black clothes and the black cat-eared hat with his hair fluffing out from underneath, he sits up straighter. He frowns and looks toward the stairs, then grimaces and starts to get up.

Starts, because he has to stuff his mouth full of fries first. THEN he gets up and slopes off to see what's going on.

Kaitou Ace (222) has posed:
Off to the side at the arcade, the normally-friendly Ace is now frowning. Not necessarily for the young man's bad manners, although those are certainly worth a frown or two. No, it's more for the fact that he had spent a good chunk of that morning (and of his wallet) at that very same claw machine, trying to win that *exact* same plush to no avail. He had finally decided to take a break and treat himself to a soda, only to find his place at the machine taken -- such is life. Of course, the young man in question was clearly an old hand at these machines, having won the plush in *much* better time than Ace could have hoped for. Tch.

Although a part of Ace thinks the reaction is somewhat ungrateful, he *does* have to admit the irate youth has a point about the quality. Ace reaches down to pick up the plush from where it's rolled, carefully dusting it off and looking it over. The lad is completely right about the color -- even for a simple claw toy, Ace has to admit whoever made this *could* have done better.

(Though he will be the first to admit that he's a touch biased there. Nothing will *ever* be good enough as far as this particular subject is concerned.)

Such is his attention that he doesn't immediately notice anything amiss just yet, not until that dark light flares...

Ikiko Hisakata has posed:
"Some people, the only sparkle they have is coarse sandpaper grit," Ikiko shrugs to Mamoru as she sips on her own drink. A chance hangout with friends is a good way to wrap up after an afternoon tending to local stray, even if things got a little interrupted.

    ...okay, make that moderately--

        --correction, MAJORLY interrupted.

Ikiko waits for Mamoru to pick a direction to head for henshining before going a different direction (the better to misdirect civilians), but also snags a mouthful of fries first -- after all, she can simply say that Mamoru took them, and that'd mostly be the truth.

Rashmi Terios has posed:
If it had been anyone else, Mamoru would have been in for a telling-off and possibly a wadded-up napkin thrown at the forehead.

But he gets a pass, because if there *is* indignation, it will be for his wife to express, not herself.

...Also she heard that yell, and Nicomachea pinged about the same time as Luna began to fluff out.

Both of which managed to distract her long enough to only be able to say "Hey--!" in Ikiko's wake, before she slips out to rush after.

It is, after all, *always something.*

Amanda Faust has posed:
Minutes Ago

    "You know, I don't think I've actually played the original Pac-Man -- or even a port anyway -- since I was a kid?" Amy comments to Usagi, upon spying the ancient and well-kept cabinets. "Maybe I'll give it a shot."



Now
    Oblivious to Mai's shenanigans, Amy pouts a bit as Pac-Man meets ghost a third time. She didn't even get past the first level...

    What happened to the child used to figuring out and doing reasonably well at games on the fly? At least, that's how she remembers it... with home consoles that didn't demand additional quarters, the experience was a bit less interrupted.

    She looks over from her GAME OVER screen at someone shouting about Sailor V. "What is--"

    And then the plushie is thrown, violently, and... come on, would they really get the skirt color wrong? Amy starts to walk over to investigate

    and she sees a butterfly land on his shirt

    and he transforms.




    He's not the only one. Amy ducks next to a cabinet while everyone is looking at the shouting, is engulfed in light and flame, and then Magical Rocket Girl Red is on the scene!

    She strides towards the latest Akuma, "Now, look, I know you're full of dark energy and a voice telling you to find the Miraculous, but--"

    She's distracted by a colorful likeness out of the corner of her eye, and she glances over.

    At the plushie on the floor.

    Just as Ace picks it up.

    "...How could they mess up something so basic?!"

    Her fists aren't clenched in white-knuckled rage, but she does turn towards the plushie and spread her arms in a 'what the hell is going on here' gesture. "It's like they weren't even trying! What is this, a lazy quick cash-grab?! Like come on, I've only met Sailor V a couple of times" -- in that identity, anyway -- "but there's the game," she turns back towards the new Akuma while pointing off to the side behind her, "and also a picture right there on the side of the game if they needed a reference!" She's pointing at the Sailor V cabinet.

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
Kazuo is exactly four steps in from the door when the yelling breaks out. The other white-haired young man (is bleach a local fad at this point? hard to tell) gives an irritated frown in the direction of the crane games. Such noise. At least someone's rescuing the toy -

- oh no.

The problem with being this tall is that Amy gets to use random cabinets for cover; Kazuo has to actually hunt. The anti-problem with this is that he's been in the Crown so many times when it's been attacked, he knows the architecture.

No, literally. After having to hold up a sizable chunk of the ceiling that time, it's a thing. Kunzite is not close enough of Amy's heels to engage in the first round of plushie-discussion. But he's not going to be far behind.

Gabriel Agreste has posed:
Curses ringing through his mind - and echoing distantly through the Akuma - Hawkmoth steadies himself, ready to make the most of whatever lackluster swell of anger that this nerd would be able to bring to bear. The wrath, despair, and other feelings of negativity are still there in the background, as he opens himself to -

R A G E

Unrelenting, enduring, rage, a well of feeling rooted in the soul, that roiled not like the swells of the ocean but the churning innards of an active volcano. It was a rage that could have overwhelmed a lesser empath, left them eager to flee to preserve themselves, but Hawkmoth could only laugh, in sheer wrathful delight. He had been wrong. He had been so wrong. A skim of the akumatized young man's mind grants him the name of this new identity, and as the light fades and his new form is revealed, the butterfly display that indicates Hawkmoth is conferring with an Akuma appears.

<<Clawzinator, your wrath is justified! These machines prey on the interests and desires of innocent fans, only to reward them with loose claws and cheap merchandise! They desecrate your hero and loot your wallet! On your own, you would be powerless, only able to chirp your displease. But if you find me the Miraculous, I'll let you keep your power, as you ->>

"Destroy them all for desecrating her image!" Clawzinator roars, lifting both arms and brandishing the new claws attached to his forearms. Where before he had been a tall but otherwise unremarkable young man, now he stands as a teen foot tall Transormers-style mecha, his entire body formed of metal and glass, his Sailor V t-shirt having become a stretched decal featuring Sailor V's mask. "None who disrespect Sailor V shall LIVE!"

<<Yes, well,>> Hawkmoth briefly considers what he would do if Emilie were subject to substandard merchandise. <<That is the way of love. Of course you would kill for love! But you can only do that if you get me the Miraculous... or else, these heroes now flocking together will stop you in your tracks.>>

"Stop me... they would dare?! Try to stop me! When they've SEEN what those HACKS did to V-sama?!" Clawzinator's red gaze (his eyes have been a single line visor of red light in his mecha form) sweeps across the gathered heroes, and with a single swift gesture her turns and drives his fist towards the unfortunate machine stocked with mis-colored merchandise... only for the claw on his hand to open, much like the claw machine, and grip the machine as he raises it up - only for it to slip open and fall back to the ground, cracking the machine (and the floor tiles).

Hawkmoth closes his eyes in pain.

Clawzinator grips the machine with his fist, causing the glass to shatter and the toys inside to spill out... before he hurls it at Ace and Amy.

"YOU WON'T STOP ME! NOTHING WILL STOP ME!"

Rashmi Terios has posed:
...Okay, *no.*

    << *BONG!* >> << TIME-SPACE BARRIER >>

The moment that 'destroy them all' was dropped, Rashmi dived into a driving-game pod, which lit up from within with a flash of golden energy. Before she even emerged, a bubble of yellow-black staticky energy exploded outward from the pod, shifting the non-magical folks away from the inevitable fight. Some things, you *do not take chances with.*

    << *BONG!* >> << TELEPATHY >>

The best part about setting up comms *after* the Barrier is, it's super easy to filter out who's an ally and who really, really isn't. << Check check check, >> Rashmi's voice sounds in the minds of the mahou assembled. << This is your comms operator speaking, is everyone ready to stop an otaku rampage? >>

Ikiko Hisakata has posed:
There's a silvery glow off somewhere, then Tsukiko darts back into the fray, doing her best to make Clawzinator off-balance by being underfoot (while doing her best to not be literally under his feet, natch). A kick here, a ricochet bounce there, the occasional disengage to briefly exit the blast radii of allied attacks...

Y'know, usual kinetic support skirmisher stuff.

<< I don't suppose anybody has a large bottle of Rust-B-Here, do they? >> the wolfgirl asks on the comms net, sizing up the chrome in relation to her fanglies and not liking the looks of that matchup.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"ALWAYS THE ARCADE WHY," Tuxedo Mask wails on Motoki's behalf-- Motoki who was racing over until mecha at which point he's not, because WHAT? and then the world's gone desaturated and all the civilians have vanished, and Motoki will only have to replace some tiles this time, not all of them.

<< Absolutely, >> thinks the dashing young man fervently. << Let's get this done and maybe fix the crane game and the floor before Usako gets back. So we can pretend this never happened. And never mention it to her. >>

He jumps up on top of a cabinet and throws a rose petals-first-- *PAFF*-- at the Clawzinator's masked faceplate, where it explodes in petals and glitter. "Those who cultivate unhealthy parasocial relationships with celebrities and heroes may need help, but when they get violent and filled with hatred over the smallest slight towards someone who doesn't know they exist, they must first be stopped! While your indignation is justified, your response is disproportionate, and ATTACKING THE CROWN AGAIN IS UNFORGIVABLE!"

He snap-points at the guy, cape flaring behind him with the sudden motion, and he says, "I won't stand for it!!"

Kaitou Ace (222) has posed:
"Eh?!" Ace turns his head as he catches the tail end of that transformation, staring at the mechanical monstrosity with a disturbingly familiar decal stretched across the front. Of course, what he ends up getting a closer look at than he'd like, is the broken machine flying at him.

"WAHH!" Ace yelps, diving to the side and just *barely* managing to avoid it as he hits the floor. Scrabbling backwards in wide-eyed terror as he manages to get to his feet, turning to get the heck *out* of there, running for the nearest exit. Like any scared, sensible bystander that just had a brush with death would.

Or at least, that's how it would look. (Not that anyone would ever accuse him of being 'sensible' anyway.)

Cutting aside sharply just before hitting that exit and ducking between two rows of arcade cabinets instead, that terrified expression dropping like the mask he'll soon be wearing. Glancing down at the plush he was still holding onto, blinking as he realizes he somehow managed *not* to drop it. "Stay here, princess," he murmurs distractedly, setting it down atop one of the consoles as he turns his attention back towards the sounds of the ruckus. One last glance to make sure no one else is watching --

-- and then he snaps his hand up to his face.

There is no blessing, no invocation of a holy planet. In his past life, Kaitou -- Adonis -- was only a soldier. And as a soldier, when the call to arms is sounded, there's only the acknowledgement before gearing up and moving out.

"Kaitou Change!!" The upraised hand makes a swiping motion across his face, an elegant white mask appearing in its path. Silver light flaring and coalescing around him, streaming through his hair and lightening its shade, and clasping around his body like armor as a new form takes shape within...

Amanda Faust has posed:
    Amy gives a low whistle. Dude picked a mecha form (do they pick? Amy realizes she forgot to ask anyone that), she can't say it's bad taste as such things go.

> Stop me... they would dare?!
    "Yeah, well, listen, you may have a point, but it's not like this arcade ownder and fellow gamers--"

    And then he threw a claw machine at her head.

    Well, at her and Ace, anyway, who is not transformed.
    "Oof!"

    Red, now in some sort of dragon-magical-girl costume with a giant sword and using it with both hands to block the machine, stumbles back and grunts as her back slames into the side of a machine behind her. "Ungh!" (She may have enhanced strength, but he's a ten-foot mecha with enhanced strength.

    She straightens up, lowering the sword in her right hand. "Look, buddy..." she holds her left hand to her chest, "I'm an otaku too, I get it, but taking it out on this arcade won't change anything, it'll only hurt people, and not even the people who got Sailor V's costume wrong although violence wouldn't solve that anyway!"

    "Please don't make us use violence to solve this, too, you know, Akuma can still talk and think, we talked one down on New Years'..."

    << Anti-armor specialist, here, >> Red responds to Ikiko, << and thanks for the barrier, Rashmi! >>

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
... Princess?

Here's hoping that the plush isn't the key item for this one. Well. It's not fighting to get it back, so that might be a good sign there.

<< Sorry, >> he answers Ikiko on Rashmi's silent telepathic calms. << Our version's out of town at the moment. >> Ice would be so very useful about now. Our water. Sailor Mercury would be a delight in this instant. Alas that she's likely off being responsible.

Hm. He can't, these days, do nearly as much about thrown very large objects as he could once have. This is in the long run a good thing; but this isn't much of an energy-wielding foe, so Kunzite doesn't have as much to work with. He doesn't like that line of light passing for eyes, though -- ah. Yes. He lifts his hands, as he's used to, and remembers to use words, as he's not. "Radiant Dark Enclasp!"

Not embrace, no. The sphere of darkness forms, smaller than usual. A little over mecha head-sized, in fact, and very definitely mecha head-centric. Tuned to absorb any energy attacks that pour into it from the inside...

... and, as a bonus, to absorb visible light coming in from the outside. Time to see what Clawzinator can do fighting blind.

Gabriel Agreste has posed:
The barrier goes up, the world taking on a subtle sepia shading, the screaming, panicking civilians disappearing, and Clawzinator... barely notices, because of the dual factors of the justice speech and the small girl darting around his legs, kicking, knocking, and he snarls and stabs his left arm down as the claw grows from the size of a sledgehammer's head to the size of a good sized dog kennel, each of the three open claws as three inches thick metal plate.

It's a good thing they're not in the arcade anymore, because the flooring underneath that hit is destroyed.

He's blinded, then, but not deafened, and though he can no longer see, he can roar,

"They didn't even bother to get the skirt right! IF THEY DON'T CARE, WHY SHOULDN'T I DESTROY IT?! THIS PLACE DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO PROCURE QUALITY MERCHANDISE FOR THE PRIZE!"

And that's when the second claw... launches forward, in the general direction of where Mamoru had been, rocket powered, and a glowing line of light connects claw to mecha. He's trying to grab Mamoru up with a second claw the size of a dog's kennel, and the thing is - even if he misses? He's going to do the same thing, which is thrash around that heavy metal claw, slamming it into the ground and through the air in a sweeping, smashing series of strikes.

<<I can't believe I'm saying this, but I have really got to reconsider my stance on - those highly motivated by their interest in media and persons of public interest?>>

"You can just call me a nerd, man."

Rashmi Terios has posed:
    << *BONG!* >> << FLIER FIN >>

Rashmi shoots out of the driving-game pod, borne aloft by golden, dragonfly-like wings at her ankles. As she rises about level with the second-level diner, she summons about a dozen small Barrets and launches them; with that kind of flailing, better to harass and distract than go for real damage.

"...I mean I can think of about a dozen reasons why you shouldn't, starting with THAT IS A COLOSSAL JERK MOVE YOU JERK."

<< Tsukiko! >> she calls into the net. << Stop for a second! I know you can probably dodge that but I might be able to knock one out of commission! >>

    << *BONG!* >> << SOLAR SHIELD -- RED SHIFT >>

The moment the dilute werewolf skids to a halt, she is covered by a fuzzy, jittering dome of golden energy. Unlike the glasslike smoothness of most of her shields, this one looks almost... sloppy, fragile. As if the barest breath of contact will shatter it completely.

In fact, this is *exactly* how it was constructed; there's only just enough structure to keep the spell coherent. The rest? Is entirely invested in kinetic kickback, and when touched will reflect and magnify the force of the attack outwards, in all directions.

Put simply, Tsukiko is now standing in the center of a kinetic landmine.

Ikiko Hisakata has posed:
<< Ah well, >> Tsukiko mentally shrugs to Kunzite with a lighthearted tone. << Bites aren't my usual thing, but better to size up my options before I need them. >>

The wolfgirl yelps as the Clawzinator tries to catch her, cage-style, and does her best to brake as per Rashmi's directions. While her reaction time is good, the rubble makes for slippery footing, causing her to slide almost into contact with the slab-claw... leaving barely any space for the shield to manifest. Not a problem for Nicomachea, but how delicate of a touch does the akumatized otaku have with his oversized claws?

Amanda Faust has posed:
    "DUDE!" Amy shouts. "You want Furahata-san to fill the claw machine with custom plushies off Getsy and give you a chance to win one for even less than a few bucks? Come on, you can see that's not fair! It's gotta be mass-produced merch! --Did you just rocket punch?!"

    Amy looks at the claw grabbing Mamoru, and nimbly dodges out of the way as it sweeps and smashes everywhere, making full use of that rocket-sword as a pivot and transport and shield, and even at one point narrowly dodging what would've been a glancing hit in midair by moving her tail to shift her body's position.

    Also while she's dodging about, she changes the weapon back and forth between sword and recoilless rifle so she can fire back; a couple shots go towards him, but one is thrown off by the claw hitting her launcher, sending the anti-tank shot wide (possibly at someone else. Oops!)

    "Cool but also not cool, man! Let him go! Look, can't you put this passion into something else? Yeah the manufacturer got the plushie wrong. So make one right! Or draw some fanart or a fanfic or make a game or something! Any of that would add more to the world, and better show up the manufacturer, than this rage that no one but us will even remember!"

Kaitou Ace (222) has posed:
" ....hm. You know... "

A languid call from the side, where the masked Kaitou Ace -- naturally not having been expelled by the Barrier sweep -- is now sitting atop one of the nearby still-standing arcade consoles, one leg dangling down. A playing card (his trademark Ace of Hearts) held between in his fingers as he watches the chaos, tapping it idly against his lips as he speaks. "I'm not entirely sure what side of this fight I'm supposed to be on," he continues. "I mean, it's not as if I don't understand that outrage. And even share it, to a degree."

"Still, in the end... the person that toy represents wouldn't be the least bit happy to see a rampage going on in her name," Kaitou reasons. "Ah -- and I suppose it'd be a shame if my comrades and contemporaries ended up getting squashed as well," he adds, as if just thinking of it. "That decides it, then~."

And so saying, flicks out his wrist as he snaps out that card with a sharpness that belies his nonchalant manner, sending it streaking across the space. Attacking the thing head-on with that much armor and mass would be chancy, especially with others already in the field of fire (which fortunately is not him just now, given that stray anti-tank shot). However, blinded and enraged as it is, Kaitou can add to the chaos by sending that projectile with its sheath of shearing force to clip alongside the Clawzinator's knee, looking to upset its balance and create more openinings to be capitalized on.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Tuxedo Kamen's looking so pleased because Kunzite put basically an 8-ball on the mechakuma's head, SO PLEASED, and he makes the mistake of looking at the other boy to grin at him without jumping first.

Pride goeth, et cetera; suddenly he's grabbed and his expression of surprise is probably comical, and he twists himself around midair and jams his hat on out of nowhere before he gets slammed on the floor, tile smashing up. He'll be fine, he's in henshin.

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
Kunzite ducks under one sweep of a claw, cape flowing behind him; darts sidewise away from the next, moving quickly. Keeping moving. He flicks a glance Tuxedo Kamen's way, ready to return the expected grin --

-- whoops.

He doubles back, crouching by Kamen and his floor break (ahem), alert to deflect incoming swipes and/or rockets lest they interrupt his prince's concentration (or the integrity of his skull, though the hat would certainly help with that). Also alert not to stand between him and his target.

The poor floor.

And someone else is joining in, after a fashion. Conversationally. "Sailor V," he murmurs low-voiced, "would be pitching it as a rare variant about now." Especially if it hasn't already come apart during the fight. Maybe they spent on the skitching what they skimped on the dye.

Gabriel Agreste has posed:
<<They're up to something tricky, and they don't have the Miraculous. You don't need to defeat them, you just need to get away from them. If you can't see your way out, you might as well saw at it!>>

Hawkmoth laughs at this genuinely awful joke, and Clawzinator groans at it.

"Are you serious man, that was terribl- ohAAAAAAAAA-"

The groan is disrupted, because no, the mecha with giant claws doesn't have fine motor skills. He brushes against Tsukiko with some measure of force, and the kinetic landmine explodes, knocking the mecha off of his feet, shattering apart one of the claws... but the frame is still there. And sure, he's beaten up, and he's taking fire, tink-tink-tink, breaking the glass of his frame, but he's not down for good.

"I expect that this arcade is going to make sure the money is worth the prize! The average win-rate at this arcade is pinned at 20#571 That's a one in five chance of winning a prize and it's 300 yen per game! You're going to tell me you've got a 1 in 5 chance of winning a prize that cost 300 yen at best, and he can't even make it the right skirt color?!"

This rant is capped off with the broken claw being swiped wildly, cutting through two of the barrier-created machines and tries to swipe Kazuo, inadvertently.

As it's swiping, the broken edges whirr like a saw. He can't see it, but he can hear it.

"I GET IT NOW!" <<My jokes are ...mostly based in reality.>>

This is when the card strikes a knee, and he goes down on one, the saw cutting deep into the floor and getting stuck. This time, the rocket powered claw does't try to grab anyone - it spins like a drill and launches forward, before getting slammed into the ground repeatedly, flailing through the air like a mace.

SLAM!

SLAM!

SLAM!

SLAM!

Some hits strike machines, sending shrapnel flying. Others could hit bodies.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Mamoru peels himself off the floor and upright into a sitting position in the rubble and briefly puts his gloved hand over Kazuo's. He takes that moment Kunzite's given him to get his brain to stop sloshing and avoid it getting inflamed...

...and then << Did anyone see where the butterfly landed? We were over by the food. >>

Tuxedo Mask digs his fingers into the rubble to either side of him as he creakily gets his feet under him, ready to jump away and dodge right this time (or left) after yelling, "Tuxedo la Smoking Crater!"

He parkours lightly across the room thereafter, so absurdly tall with the added hat height~

Rashmi Terios has posed:
This is rapidly turning into a not-fun-at-all nightmare of a fight. Not for the fiftieth time, Rashmi takes a moment to give thanks to Nicomachea, for having Barriers at all because *whoa dang* this could have been a horrorshow.

Also she privately makes a mental note to *get a wiggle on* with her design work.

    << *BONG!* >> << SOLAR BARRAGE -- GLACE SHIFT >>

The Clawzinator may be down, but those claws of his *manifestly are not,* and that needs to be fixed. Thus, Tuxedo Mask's earth-powered explosion magic is followed up by a rapid-fire barrage of sticky, weighty chunks of magical 'ice.' The fire is mostly centered on the claws, but the Devicer is absolutely not above walking fire across the mecha's legs to keep him in place.

<< Not me, sadly, I was behind you. >>

Ikiko Hisakata has posed:
Tsukiko follows quickly on the metaphorical heels of the landmine's shockwave, first scrambling to get enough distance to perhaps resume her skirmisher tactics, then dashing further with a yelp to stay clear of the toppling Clawzinator and his flailing limbs.

<< Gonna try to draw his attack clear of us, >> the wolfgirl warns as she hoists up a decent-sized chunk of rubble -- small enough that she can shoulder it, but large enough that it'll make a moderately loud clatter -- and chucks it across the room towards an area that currently has no mahoujin in it as a distraction.

Kaitou Ace (222) has posed:
"Ah, she might at that!" Kaitou says thoughtfully, managing to cach Kunzite's comment and tapping his chin thoughtfully at it. "I wonder if I could get her to autograph -- whoops!" That's right, there's still a bruhaha going on, isn't there? The masked thief once more diving to the side as one of the wild strikes of that flailing, mace-like claw comes crashing down on the spot he was *just* sitting on, caving the arcade cabinet in completely. Hitting the ground in a roll and coming up to one knee, Kaitou flings his arm out as more cards snap out to his fingers, catching them up--

--but not letting fly. Not just yet, at least. Despite his uncaring tone, his gaze is sharp behind the mask, having marked out those explosions (some familiar, some not), the attackers darting out of reach of those claws, and others striking at them directly in a bit to neutralize them. And so rather than getting in the way, holds poised for a moment as he waits to pick his shot...

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
<< On him directly somewh-- >> Kunzite's response is cut off literally midthought, as he flattens himself out of the way of the broken claw about to remove his shoulder from the list of body parts he needs to keep track of. It's angled too far up to hit Mamoru, and a quick squeeze of gloved hand reassures him silently that he's relatively okay. (Relatively. Broken machine splinters are an annoyance, but not enough of one to take note of - yet.)

Then Tux has yelled, and Kazuo rolls away from the likely target site, up onto a knee, then onto his feet and still moving. His cape is his shield against shrapnel; he angles to cover Tsukiko so much as he can, too. The only sign of his powers is still the black sphere around Clawzinator's head.

Amanda Faust has posed:
    "Tuxedo Mask, are you OK?!" Amy shouts, but then--

    Someone is wrong <S>on the internet</S> in front of her! She can't help arguing!

    "Dude, you think he can get custom plushies made for under 1500 yen? I bet they're at least a few times that! He is an arcade owner. He's keeping the Juuban arcade scene alive and maintaining all these machines for us to play with! He cannot also be some kind of... boutique custom-made plushie dealer!"

    She had been going to use her costumes -- and perhaps imitating Sailor V's -- for conversation, but the blindness has made that a moot point, so she reverts to her basic henshin while she continues dodging around.

    When a claw gets stuck she slaps thermite on it, and she decides that if the mech is gonna stay in one place she's gonna give it a hell of a hotfoot!

    As she dodges the flying claw and the shrapnel of arcade machines << Thank you so much for the barrier, Rashmi! >>, ducking behind the unsmashed machines as shrapnel hails into them, she keeps tossing thermite grenades -- she seems to have decided they're structured like the old stick-and-can german-style hand grenades -- at his feet, where the magical darkness hides the blinding-bright light and the shower of sparks as they reduce themselves to puddles of molten iron and slag.

    << Oh uh, the butterfly landed on his shirt! But uh... we can't see it, right now... >>

Gabriel Agreste has posed:
Someone is wrong on the internet, meet Someone is Enraged On The Internet.

"Oh, I should have known you'd be a capitalist kiss up, always making excuses for the cheap businessman undercutting the common man! These plushies are bought for an average of 500 yen per plushie and most of the time they end up getting won for 900 to 1200 yen, 1500 at the worst! There's a 20% chance he loses out on the money and an 80% chance he makes a profit! It took me three tries to win this stupid thing, and he couldn't even make sure the skirt was the right color! He made 300 yen in profit off just me! I saw some other guy try six times and lose every one! That's 1800 yen off one guy just trying to win a toy!"

He slams his claw around again, furious writhing, the energy coil of the claw whacking around here and there, smashing, crashing, trashing the place.

"Anything for the ~small businessman~ but who cares about the consumer he's got to step on, right?! Who cares if someone actually wants the prize they spent their hard earned yen on to be as advertised, right?! All that matters is your favorite businessman gets to profit!"

Hawkmoth is snickering at that, having heard enough from this particular hero to know how badly that's going to get her goat.

A rock is thrown, not that Hawkmoth and Clawzinator can see it, and the crash, makes him turn and launch his remaining intact claw in that direction.

He misses, of course, and has no chance to do anything, before the earth cracks and explodes under him, launching his body up. If there was more open space, he might spin. There isn't, so he just hits the ceiling, his glass case back and the Sailor V mask on the cotton decal wrapped around his case in the spotlight before he crashes back down. Sticky, heavy ice holds him in place.

Rashmi Terios has posed:
"NINE HUNDRED YEN," Rashmi repeats, the diatribe finally having pushed him too far. "For crying out-- ARE YOU SERIOUSLY MEANING TO DESTROY AN ENTIRE ARCADE OVER *A DORAYAKI AND A HALF?!*"

<< ...Okay I don't know about the rest of you but I'm done. We're done. He's done. *GET'M.* >>

    << *BONG!* >> << PENTA BARRET -- BOOST UP >>

Five wisps of golden energy materialize around her, streaking out to infuse her allies with a moment's boost in ranged-attack power. It... might not help Tsukiko all that much, but she can probably find a use for it. In the meantime...

    << *BONG!* >> << SOLAR BLADE >>

Half a dozen Barrets materialize around her, morphing into straight-up *swords* made of golden light, and launching themselves at the mecha. Built specifically to break shields, it's Rashmi's fervent hope that they'll do decently well against armor as well, and provide her friends a better view of the shirt that needs to be vaporized.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
<< Great. >> Sigh.

"Big talk from a loser in a bootleg shirt," scoffs Tuxedo Kamen, throwing his voice to right next to the blinded Clawzinator. "I don't care how rare it is, it's still a bootleg. You get it from a street vendor? I can't believe you call yourself a fan and you're letting that touch your skin."

He is still parkouring all over; his cape is getting as shredded as he thinks he looks in the mirror. Flex. "I can't believe you're fighting people who know the actress and can get you her autograph. And HAWKMOTH! Offer's still open! Talk to Casual Friday, he can get hold of me~"

And then Rashmi's buff comes sailing over, and there's a rush of sunshine in winter and Mamoru's warmed to his toes by summery friendship, and he jams it into his attack, laughing. Tuxedo la Smoking Bomber!"

Kaitou Ace (222) has posed:
"Mmph." Kaitou's jaw tenses from his clenched teeth as he overhears that rant. Six times -- which is to say, *only* the six times the youth happened to see.

"Once again, I find myself wondering if I picked the right side in this fight," he notes idly, to no one in particuar. But fortunately for everyone involved, it seems a decisive end to said fight is being struck as Clawzinator is blasted into the air before being dropped back down and pinned.

And cautiously he straightens up from his ready crouch, cards still raised and held crossbody as he stays wary and watchful. Being a fool for certain things isn't the same as being fooled, after all.

Ikiko Hisakata has posed:
Tsukiko might be short on normal ranged attacks, but right now she's also short on velocity (which means no Silver Wolf Tackle) as well as short on sympathetic/soothing vibes (which means no Soulful Howl).

    What she does have is a scrounger's creativity, and a lot of available improvised ammo.

"AND YOU GET THE FOOL'S PRIZE!" the wolfgirl bellows with as much annoyed indignation as she can muster, while using Rashmi's boost in conjunction with the largest chunk of debris she can chuck. It might not have the range of the piece she threw earlier... but in this case, trading range for power is the perfect rate of exchange as she yeets it at the Clawzinator.

Amanda Faust has posed:
    Capitalist kiss-up?!

    "HEY. HEY!" Red shouts back. "I am a communist! Like, Magical Rocket Girl Red, and you think I'm a dirty capitalist?!" Not that she told him her title and also it's just her color theme, not because of that, but if he's going to be an ass she can be a little too!

    "Dude. Strictly speaking as a practical matter, if you want the plushie and it's just 500 yen, then go buy one? And if they don't make accurate plushies for that price, what do you want him to do?"

    "WUAUGH!" the claw finally comes down on a machine just as she ducks behind it, spattering her with shrapnel, sending her stumbling back with some slight cuts.

    "Dude, if I had my way it wouldn't be about profit, Furahata-san could maintain the arcade as a labor of love and leave all the games on freeplay and still live well! That's what everybody should be able to do, contribute to society in their own way, regardless of whether the powers that be decide it's worth money or not!"

    She keeps shooting with her launcher, high-explosive rounds aimed at the shirt now, "Seriously, this is an arcade and it's 2026, I have more games that I've never even played in my Steam library than he could ever fit machines in here! You think someone runs an arcade to make a buck? I'm not defending him because he's a business owner, I'm defending him because he chose maintaining videogame history and giving us a hangout spot over making as much money as he could using the space for something else!"

    "And if we hadn't had a barrier spell handy you would have just destroyed all of that! Over a toy you could have bought for 500 yen!"

    Amy leaps onto him while he's stuck in place, briefly. "Yeah, this shirt's gotta go." She slips thermite down the front and back of the shirt before leaping off. (She'll unsummon it as soon as the butterfly's out, no need to risk hurting him! She's learned how to do that, since Cho was akumatized!)

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
The mention of Casual Friday prompts Kunzite to acquire a look, but the frown is aimed at the air, not at Tuxedo Kamen. He has, after all, been good for outright ages at this point!

He halts his own movement where he can glance over at what may be a plushie, parts of a plushie, a woeful scatter of fluff, or for all he knows, an absence of anything because it's no longer being held by someone in the barrier. Weird magic physics experiments. Either way, he turns, and his hands come up in a gesture that Kaitou may or may not still remember from an Earth long gone. Startling pink light flares, lashing out in a searingly bright beam threaded through and haloed about with Rashmi's solar gold, aimed at precisely the same point as Mamoru's attack.

And, at the same moment as light from a half-dozen more places flares up aimed at the Clawzinator, he banishes his shield. Pitch-black midnight yields in an instant to staring at the sun.

Gabriel Agreste has posed:
"I MADE THIS SHIRT MYSELF! I BET YOU NEVER MADE A SHIRT FOR THE THINGS YOU LOVE!" Oh, nothing has enraged this otaku more (besides this actual inciting event). "You're the idiot who wouldn't recognize homemade love if it punched you in the face! And besides, THESE KINDS OF TOYS ARE BUNDLED FOR 500 YEN PER ITEM SOLD IN 100 ITEM CRATES. IT'S 50,000 YEN PER CRATE!"

The you idiot goes unsaid. He is taking hits. He doesn't care at this point, he's in full nerd rage mode.

"What are you, some kind of American? German?! There's thousands of arcades just in Tokyo, they aren't rare, you fuc-"

The energy blades sink into the armor. The rock strikes. The beam strikes, and the blinding light pierces his vision, as the dome falls, and he roars in anger, but then -

Thermite. Burning. The cotten decal wrap goes up in flames, and the butterfly... burns right there, with the shirt, disintegrating into dark ash.

The mecha suit vanishes, leaving a shirtless young man, a little bruised and battered and unconscious, but no longer a mecha. That handmade shirt is no more.

"Tch,: Hawkmoth shakes his head. Still... "So Mamoru Chiba knows how to reach that Tuxedo Kamen, huh?"

Rashmi Terios has posed:
Rashmi cannot help but wince, sharply; so the shirt that fueled his akumatization... was *hand made.* At least, as hand-made as modern print-on-demand services get, anyway.

Ankle-wings flutter as she lowers herself to the ground. "Is everyone else okay? Also.... um... Nicomachea? Can you look for a decent, local screen-printer?"

With a cheery << *BONG!* >> Nicomachea searches, and a moment later there's presumably an address in ornate, almost-English characters, printed on a holographic 'screen above the armored book's pages. Nodding to herself, she reaches into the big gem on the cover of the book, coming away with a notepad, pencil, and fistful of yen.

Yes, she *actually honestly intends* to supply the man who was the Clawzinator with the means to rebuild what he has lost. Tokyo *has* the technology, after all.

Kaitou Ace (222) has posed:
Kaitou can't help but flash a quick grin in Kunzite's direction at the familiar attack, but relaxes his own pose as the combined attacks seem to have struck at the heart of whatever it was that had possessed the youth, stashing his cards back into his sleeve.

And with that, slipping back through the rows while everyone else's attention is focused on the aftermath. A good thief knows when to make a discreet exit, after all. And this thief has even come away with a prize, waiting where he left it before he transformed.

Poor quality or not, a plushie deserves a good home.

Ikiko Hisakata has posed:
"I might need to do some extra cool-down exercises later to make sure I didn't overdo it with that rock, but otherwise I think I got through this okay," Tsukiko replies, carefully doing a few arm stretches to make sure she's still limber. Henshins may help with overall fitness, but unusual exertions are still unusual exertions, and should be checked for accidental side effects, after all!

Kazuo Saitou has posed:
"It's just a flesh wound," says Kunzite, amused. Though in his case, they really are - that spatter of splinters; traces and beads of blood touch the side of his face, but it's nothing that will last past getting home at worst. (Nothing that will last long enough to get out the door, more likely.) There's an approving inclination of his head when Rashmi asks Nicomachea that question. Shirts aren't his bailiwick.

And it'll take some watching to see whether the Clawzinator deserves a better plushie.

Amanda Faust has posed:
    Amy winces -- she has not handmade a shirt, no, only used Setsuna-chan's money to have a small run of shirts made for magical karaoke. "I'm sorry-- wait what do you mean there are arcades all over Tokyo?!"

    And then he's fallen, and unconscious, and probably won't remember any of this anyway. She stands over him giving him a sad look. "I really am sorry about the shirt. Hawkmoth likes using things that are precious to people as the focus for his Akumas."

    She continues, solemnly, "I read stories that people poured their souls into, but I'm not as much of an expert on clothing. I won't mock you for loving something genuinely. Hopefully it was just a bad day and Dark Energy that made you like this."

    Is everyone alright? Amy looks down at herself -- the scratches vanish and her henshin outfit becomes pristine gain, but she'll have some slight bruising that will heal with the normal Mahou speed.

    Rashmi has a suggestion to help replace the shirt; Amy writes down a note with the place she used for the magical karaoke shirts, as well.

    And when she dehenshins, she has changed her top to one of the chibi-tiger-meowing-'nyo'-in-romaji-into-a-microphone shirts, because now her thoughts have gone to that, and she did put love and care into the design and choosing the cut and weave of the shirts -- she almost over-engineered it before realizing she was getting way out of scope, actually! It was a whole little project she wanted to get just right even if it never ended up really mattering as much to anyone else.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"I'm... okay I guess," Mamoru says, knuckling his eyes as the former Clawzinator goes back into civilian life without his shirt.

They stay in the barrier, for now.

He drops his henshin and trails towards Kazuo, squinting. "Do you have shrapnel in your face?" he demands, reaching up to touch his boyfriend's cheek with glowing fingertips. "Even if I can't keep Usagi from finding out about this fight, I can keep Zoisite from finding out you got your face hurt. I don't have a concussion anymore, don't worry."

A beat.

"Oh damn dammit, and I can't get her new fries because a monster just attacked and the kitchen's probably closed like for good reason but still--"