Beepsumu reached out to stop the Repairman, but before she could get a word out, the room was filled with the shouts of the angry Bowyers, as they began chasing and firing arrows at the source of the noise.

Bowyetta, on the other hand, screamed and hit the deck as soon as she heard the siren. She nearly got herself trampled that way, but at least now she was easier to tell apart from the rest. The dog-arrows from before returned to her hair. “Oh, Bowyetta~! Fear not, we’ve returned to you~! But our new friend may be in trouble~!”

Bowyetta sat up and attempted to shout to the Repairman. “Wait! Do not be to provoking them! If one of those arrows is hitting you…” She stood up and attempted to stop them herself.

Beepsumu grabbed her and pulled her back. “Wait a minute! What’s going to happen to YOU if you get hit?”

“B-but… He is being in much danger…”

“It’s alright, we can go after him. But don’t try to handle it yourself.” Beepsumu stood up, leading the group out of hiding, and tried to chase after the rioting mechanical hoard themselves.

The Repairman, meanwhile, saw arrows fly past him and looked back as he fled. Thankfully, these guys appeared to be lousy shots, at least when running. The arrows that would have struck true were pretty easy for the inkblot to dodge. He only had to bend his body a certain way, then snap right back.

Still, he didn’t know how long his luck or his stamina would last (both were notably inconsistent). He turned into the nearest doorway and quickly muted his siren. Hopefully, if he could just cover up his siren, he could just wait for the Bowyers to run past…

No dice. Those guys could be fast.

The Repairman was paralyzed by surprise, and then paralyzed by an arrow. He could only shout “hey!" as his attacker picked him up and showed him to the others. He heard a few clatters; apparently they knocked his hammerspace loose. His few belongings fell to the floor, but the mechanical monstrosities didn’t seem to care. They were too excited about their new, dripping discovery, apparently. A chorus of "Nyas!” and various chatters flooded the area.

They went to carry him who-knows-where, while he just kept protesting, shouting things like “Lemme go!” and “What’re you doing!” the whole way. That seemed like the right thing to do. Heck, it seemed to be the only thing he could do. That and drip. Apparently these guys didn’t care about inkstains on them or their floor, either,