The Ratings War V: Original Sin - Finals (Winner Announced)
- Thread starter Lord Krunk
- Start date
Out of context, this would only be for the men (PENIS JOKE, god I'm funny)... but, then again, for some reason I assume you are all men. Including you, Sky. Because, as the age-old adage goes- girls don't use the internet. At least, not for anything other than looking at Lolcats and jewelry.sky14kemea said:
Wait, there's Jewellery in the internet?!? O:Soothsayer said:
I don't mind being called a dude, I know what ya mean. =P
Understandable. Have fun, by the way!Dastardos said:
As for the extension, this is for a judge and not for a contestant, and no contestants have asked for one so far so the due date of the 24th sill stands.
It probably wouldn't matter anyway, because from the 25th to the 1st everyone (including myself) will probably be off partying with family, friends and whatnot. So I wasn't going to be hard on the judges anyway.
By the way, Sky, how're those reviews coming along?
.... *head meets desk* Oh man. I could try and do them all tomorrow, but I'd have to read all the entries again and stuff now Dx I'm a rubbish critic.Lord Krunk said:By the way, Sky, how're those reviews coming along?
I'll have them on your desk by Sunday, Sir...
The forest was ablaze; Amelia was out of control. Eurania barely managed to roll to safety behind a boulder before another wave of fire erupted from the tiny sorceress and washed across the grove in which they battled, the flames eagerly seeking tinder. Eurania watched as a bush of resplendent violet flowers was consumed before her eyes, becoming a nightmarish brown skeleton-- Such reckless destruction... such wanton, childish selfishness.
"HENREEEEEEEEEEY!" Came the girl's enraged shriek, followed by another flash of light and surge of heat. "WHERE ARE YOUUUUUU!?" Her voice was choked with what Eurania recognized as despair-- thought-consuming despair and hopelessness, the fear of a lost child. Whoever "Henry" was, his absence had driven this sorceress into a state of uncontrollable frenzy.
The ground shuddered violently and Eurania had to brace herself to keep from falling-- the arena-world was crumbling, and between the earthquakes and the forest-fire it was clear that she would need to make a decisive move to end the match quickly.
With a agonized groan an ancient tree fell over, its roots tarnished by the thrashing earth. As it crashed into the grove Eurania moved from her cover and dove into the more densely-treed perimeter, managing to avoid being crushed as the massive trunk was caught and supported by the thatched canopy above. Yet another fireball wooshed by and ignited the foliage around her-- her position had been discovered.
The child sorceress was floating above the ground, her levitation sustained by the immense energy pouring out of her small body, surrounding it with an aura of red heat. Her staff raised and pointed at Eurania she roared, "GIVE ME BACK MY HENREEEEEEY!!!" and unleashed another magical barrage. Eurania threw up a sonic barrier and witnessed the inside of the pyroclasm directed at her-- in it she could sense the desperate, passionate longing which drove this girl to such heights of power. Yet her attacks were wild, lacking any sort of restraint or precision. But of course-- for all her power she is still a child. We must be the same age, yet she lacks the benefits of my specialized programming... in humans, programming is improved over time as their elastic processors adjust to experiential stimuli.
Pre-programmed images of parents singing to their children, holding them close, supporting them during their distress, flashed through Eurania's mind. She pulsed with a mighty sonic wave, extinguishing the flames close to her and sending a gale of leaves and ash swirling through the entire grove. She met Amelia's tear-streaked gaze with her own: steady, calm emerald. The crackling of burning wood and the shudder of the collapsing ground seemed to... fade. What replaced it was, at first, a barely perceptible harmonious tone. It charged the air with its presence, gradually rising until finally it became the first note of a melody, flowing easily into a simple, elegant rhythm. The sound, to Amelia, seemed to be coming from the air itself-- it worked its way into her mind, slicing through the blind rage with a soothing, tranquil quality that could not be produced by any single instrument. It was like a symphony of angelic strings, golden harps and diamond keys playing the most delicate notes, and Amelia, enveloped by its beauty, was powerless to resist the images of her estranged birth parents. The brief period of comfort during her childhood before she had been forsaken; cast-off for being strange, unwanted because of what she was, came flooding into her head.
And then, Henry: foster father and brother and all-around companion. With nobody to care for her the girl had invented her own custodian and given it all the qualities she had been deprived of by her parents: protection, attention and warmth. He would never abandon her... he could never leave... but now...
"Henry... Henry please come back to me..." Amelia Rhodes bawled, her mask of rage dissolving into the sorrowful visage of a helpless child. The latent energy around her faded and her feet touched the ground, then she sank to her knees and wept. Eurania, still weaving her lullaby, knelt before her and embraced her in her cold, crystal arms.
"Fear not. Henry will never leave you."
From close range, Eurania diverted all her energy to her hands and delivered such a concentrated burst of high-powered sound that Amelia's frail mortal coil was obliterated, instantly. The intensity of the blast sent Eurania flying backwards and tumbling, and the resulting shock-wave caused the trees in the grove around her to crack and shed leaves. When she looked up, Eurania was pleased to see nothing more than a perfectly round crater in the dirt where the sorceress had been. Her robotic mind assured her that the correct moral decision had been made: the girl needed to die here, in this "reality." In order to obtain Godhood, to wrest control of the Universe from Original Sin, this was how it needed to be.
In the reality that I create, I promise you will not be alone, little sorceress. The crystal being lay there on the ground for a while, her energy utterly spent, and watched the canopy continue to blaze.
"HENREEEEEEEEEEY!" Came the girl's enraged shriek, followed by another flash of light and surge of heat. "WHERE ARE YOUUUUUU!?" Her voice was choked with what Eurania recognized as despair-- thought-consuming despair and hopelessness, the fear of a lost child. Whoever "Henry" was, his absence had driven this sorceress into a state of uncontrollable frenzy.
The ground shuddered violently and Eurania had to brace herself to keep from falling-- the arena-world was crumbling, and between the earthquakes and the forest-fire it was clear that she would need to make a decisive move to end the match quickly.
With a agonized groan an ancient tree fell over, its roots tarnished by the thrashing earth. As it crashed into the grove Eurania moved from her cover and dove into the more densely-treed perimeter, managing to avoid being crushed as the massive trunk was caught and supported by the thatched canopy above. Yet another fireball wooshed by and ignited the foliage around her-- her position had been discovered.
The child sorceress was floating above the ground, her levitation sustained by the immense energy pouring out of her small body, surrounding it with an aura of red heat. Her staff raised and pointed at Eurania she roared, "GIVE ME BACK MY HENREEEEEEY!!!" and unleashed another magical barrage. Eurania threw up a sonic barrier and witnessed the inside of the pyroclasm directed at her-- in it she could sense the desperate, passionate longing which drove this girl to such heights of power. Yet her attacks were wild, lacking any sort of restraint or precision. But of course-- for all her power she is still a child. We must be the same age, yet she lacks the benefits of my specialized programming... in humans, programming is improved over time as their elastic processors adjust to experiential stimuli.
Pre-programmed images of parents singing to their children, holding them close, supporting them during their distress, flashed through Eurania's mind. She pulsed with a mighty sonic wave, extinguishing the flames close to her and sending a gale of leaves and ash swirling through the entire grove. She met Amelia's tear-streaked gaze with her own: steady, calm emerald. The crackling of burning wood and the shudder of the collapsing ground seemed to... fade. What replaced it was, at first, a barely perceptible harmonious tone. It charged the air with its presence, gradually rising until finally it became the first note of a melody, flowing easily into a simple, elegant rhythm. The sound, to Amelia, seemed to be coming from the air itself-- it worked its way into her mind, slicing through the blind rage with a soothing, tranquil quality that could not be produced by any single instrument. It was like a symphony of angelic strings, golden harps and diamond keys playing the most delicate notes, and Amelia, enveloped by its beauty, was powerless to resist the images of her estranged birth parents. The brief period of comfort during her childhood before she had been forsaken; cast-off for being strange, unwanted because of what she was, came flooding into her head.
And then, Henry: foster father and brother and all-around companion. With nobody to care for her the girl had invented her own custodian and given it all the qualities she had been deprived of by her parents: protection, attention and warmth. He would never abandon her... he could never leave... but now...
"Henry... Henry please come back to me..." Amelia Rhodes bawled, her mask of rage dissolving into the sorrowful visage of a helpless child. The latent energy around her faded and her feet touched the ground, then she sank to her knees and wept. Eurania, still weaving her lullaby, knelt before her and embraced her in her cold, crystal arms.
"Fear not. Henry will never leave you."
From close range, Eurania diverted all her energy to her hands and delivered such a concentrated burst of high-powered sound that Amelia's frail mortal coil was obliterated, instantly. The intensity of the blast sent Eurania flying backwards and tumbling, and the resulting shock-wave caused the trees in the grove around her to crack and shed leaves. When she looked up, Eurania was pleased to see nothing more than a perfectly round crater in the dirt where the sorceress had been. Her robotic mind assured her that the correct moral decision had been made: the girl needed to die here, in this "reality." In order to obtain Godhood, to wrest control of the Universe from Original Sin, this was how it needed to be.
In the reality that I create, I promise you will not be alone, little sorceress. The crystal being lay there on the ground for a while, her energy utterly spent, and watched the canopy continue to blaze.
And just as revolverwolf asks for an extension too.HSIAMetalKing said:
Incidentally, revolverwolf has until New Years' Eve to get his entry in, and HSIAMetalKing has until the same time to do whatever he wants (edit, rewrite, etc.) with his own before judging.
Everyone else, I'll see you tomorrow.
Restless wind picked at the flaps of my coat. I notched the draw-strap another measure tighter, keeping out the scavenging elements as best I could; the town wasn't so lucky. Swirls of dust were lookouts, the watch-boys, an early flight of vultures sizing up the wounded prey, pecking away what little bits they could. They wouldn't stay long. But after the real predators hit, they'd be back; only this time to clean up the scraps.
If there were any scraps that is. I'd had my eyes on the growing clouds since they'd first appeared on the horizon. One massive, hungry predator, slavering jaws of some savannah cat, ready to engulf the wounded wilderbeast of a town Anders and I had been stranded in.
"So uh... what. We kind of stalk each other round this town.." he paused as he found a good spot to rest, an old bench seat affixed to the wall of a drugstore, which shed a paling as the bulk slumped down onto it, "each wrapped up in our own thoughts until we meet for a final, climactic showdown, one of us barely scraping through... to the next round." As he finished, he lay back and closed his eyes, stretching his arms above his head with a stifled yawn.
I didn't remember much of the in-between time. Like so much of the last few days, it's all been a disjointed blur. I couldn't even feel the scars though. That certainly wasn't right. I wondered if it even happened. Did I even get shot? I seemed to remember being shot in the lobby of some colossal building, by that.. thing. I'd had to stab it so many times, but I also could see a bathroom, Anders and I working together, in a flooded bathroom.
Still, one thing was clear: Harold wanted the easy way out. I remembered that much. He was lazy. He wanted to win, but he'd try quick and dirty. I'd like to see the day when anyone can beat me on the quick and dirty.
"Eh, I'd be more worried about that storm Anders," Best thing about a wind strained, heavy coat could be handy for concealing tricky movements.
Slide the familiar grip out of the holster.
A second yawn was all I got in response, but, no, he must be eyeing me. Giving me a good third degree no doubt, but making it look like he couldn't give two sticks.
Best thing about double action with a long pull was the lack of need for a noisy drawback on the hammer.
"Ground rules then, Anders? Just a bare knuckle dust-up, no weapons?"
One thing was clear: Harold wanted the easy way out. Wrapping my finger round the trigger.. when I heard the sound of casings falling onto cobblestones, clattering, jingling with one finally rolling into a gutter.
Spatters of rain began to fleck the long abandoned sidewalk, picking up quickly.
I shot a glance at Anders. He returned it with a soft smile, his now empty hand still extended, palm facing up.
Then I shot him through the head.
I'd like to see the day when anyone can beat me on the quick and dirty.
Rain reached stampede point, the hungry carnivore had arrived.
If there were any scraps that is. I'd had my eyes on the growing clouds since they'd first appeared on the horizon. One massive, hungry predator, slavering jaws of some savannah cat, ready to engulf the wounded wilderbeast of a town Anders and I had been stranded in.
"So uh... what. We kind of stalk each other round this town.." he paused as he found a good spot to rest, an old bench seat affixed to the wall of a drugstore, which shed a paling as the bulk slumped down onto it, "each wrapped up in our own thoughts until we meet for a final, climactic showdown, one of us barely scraping through... to the next round." As he finished, he lay back and closed his eyes, stretching his arms above his head with a stifled yawn.
I didn't remember much of the in-between time. Like so much of the last few days, it's all been a disjointed blur. I couldn't even feel the scars though. That certainly wasn't right. I wondered if it even happened. Did I even get shot? I seemed to remember being shot in the lobby of some colossal building, by that.. thing. I'd had to stab it so many times, but I also could see a bathroom, Anders and I working together, in a flooded bathroom.
Still, one thing was clear: Harold wanted the easy way out. I remembered that much. He was lazy. He wanted to win, but he'd try quick and dirty. I'd like to see the day when anyone can beat me on the quick and dirty.
"Eh, I'd be more worried about that storm Anders," Best thing about a wind strained, heavy coat could be handy for concealing tricky movements.
Slide the familiar grip out of the holster.
A second yawn was all I got in response, but, no, he must be eyeing me. Giving me a good third degree no doubt, but making it look like he couldn't give two sticks.
Best thing about double action with a long pull was the lack of need for a noisy drawback on the hammer.
"Ground rules then, Anders? Just a bare knuckle dust-up, no weapons?"
One thing was clear: Harold wanted the easy way out. Wrapping my finger round the trigger.. when I heard the sound of casings falling onto cobblestones, clattering, jingling with one finally rolling into a gutter.
Spatters of rain began to fleck the long abandoned sidewalk, picking up quickly.
I shot a glance at Anders. He returned it with a soft smile, his now empty hand still extended, palm facing up.
Then I shot him through the head.
I'd like to see the day when anyone can beat me on the quick and dirty.
Rain reached stampede point, the hungry carnivore had arrived.
Both @Soothsayer and @pigeon_of_doom have asked for an extension, and I will deliver.
They both have until The 31st.
They both have until The 31st.
Still may do some spelling, grammar and vocabulary editing, but as far as the general piece is concerned, this is it.
Carefully, Charles entered the main chamber of the submarine. It was a very dark and dreary place, the cold, steel walls and ceiling didn?t provide a friendly atmosphere, and the freezing cold water lying about the floor did not help that feeling that he doesn?t want to be here. Nothing was functioning; all the screens and engines which had previously filled the room with light and sound had ceased to function, only to be replaced with darkness and silence.
It didn?t take a lot of work to realise that he was the only crew member still alive; the stench of his friends? blood slowly mixing with the ever so penetrating taste of the salt water was enough of an indication. But this did leave him with a problem as to how he could escape and somehow survive on his own with nothing to assist him.
Moving carefully so that he dare not trip in this darkness, The Drifter travelled slowly towards the walls of the side of the submarine. Placing his palms against the wall, a tremor of cold entered from the steel, startling Charles for a second. As he felt along the side, slowly getting used to the bitter sting of the cold, there was nothing to sense. It was a shame; he was kind of hoping to find another world to escape into, even only to survive whilst his submarine inevitably floods itself. But alas, this ongoing battle had rid this sea of any life, and anything that was still here certainly wasn?t dreaming.
Charles adjusted his hat to stop the water from dripping on his waistcoat. Turning back around, he started trying to quell the fear of his time running out again. When you?re stuck in a slowly flooding room with no possible way out and the stench of flesh and salt overcoming any other sense of smell you have, the most you can do is try and stop being so damn afraid.
[hr]
The room is still flooding. For fuck sake, how long can this keep itself up for?! This is simply one example of the many thoughts that were running through Chance Connie?s mind as he ran across his submarine?s main chamber trying to find a way to restore power to the system. Unfortunately, such tasks are a major difficulty in trying to solve when there is nothing working and you?re completely covered in darkness. Great, first little girls and talking lions and now this.
He had somewhat of a success in finding the wiring to jumpstart the system, but there was still the problem of no source of electricity, a problem that until solved means that he isn?t going anywhere.
This is just a perfect way to spend your last few minutes, isn?t it? Drowning without even being able to see your last vision, how fucking brilliant! If only there was something to get this damn sub going again. Something like an emergency battery, or somethi-
His thoughts ceased as he opened a cupboard on the side of the walls to reveal exactly what he was looking for. Although he couldn?t see it, it was a fairly big, heavy box. Moving his palm along the top, he could feel two large, metallic pieces on top, like connectors. It was perfect.
Removing it from where it was being contained, he walked slowly towards a seat he was working on; putting all his strength into making sure he doesn?t drop it into the water. Connecting the wires to this big box, noises were made, as the overhead lights switched on again and revealed the whole room to Connie, stunning him with brightness.
Now careful, Chunchy, you don?t want to slip and hit your head on something when you?re doing this. But by then it was too late, as he slipped and knocked his head on the wall. Lying there, he slowly started to see this world fade away before himself.
[hr]
The Drifter noticed it. It was a weak sense from it being so far away and between so many walls, but he felt it. And although he couldn't see a thing in this darkness, let alone through the walls, he knew where it was coming from. He could feel it: a portal into another world. Someone was dreaming.
But first there was the question of how to get there. If he tried faring the sea in gas form, it would prove to be a difficult ride for him to get to that world alive. But by this point in time, that portal was his only hope of survival; the water was already climbing his body from the waist upwards and if he wasn't fast it would soon be over head level.
?Well, might as well try and make sure I remain a gas for as little time as possible.? He faced the ruined remains of his previously glorious crew. ?And it?s not as if I?m going to be requiring these people much longer.?
And on that note he reached for his sword, and pierced the wall. The room started to flood much quicker as Charles took on the form of a dark violet gas before escaping through the new gap provided. Once outside, he noticed the submarine opposite his, and he knew where the host of this new world was going to be. Guessing where the opposite submarine's water seal was broken, he moved towards a spot a few feet away from the far right propeller, desperate to find a way in.
Thankfully he guessed right, and made his way through the hull to find an unconscious male wearing a bowler hat and a buttoned coat. Entering the human?s nostrils and mouth, he made his way into the land of this man?s dreams.
[hr]
?Wake up...?
?Wake up...?
?Wake up.?
Chance?s eyes slowly opened as he found himself lying on the ground. He started to focus and noticed that he was on an old, beaten path that seemed to stretch along in a never-ending straight line before blurring into the fields on both sides of the path that went on for at least as far as the road itself did. As he sat up, he felt the soft rain tapping on his bowler, and saw a lanky man in a waistcoat and hat facing him.
?Wh- Where am I? I thought I was on the, the submarine and now...? He pointed at the man facing him. ?Who are you??
The man tilted his hat up so that his brown, chestnut eyes met those of Chance?s. ?You?re in a dream -- Your dream to be precise." When you travel through dreams, details like that you have a tendency to clarify. "You fell asleep where the other crewmen had died in the submarine and for some reason you started to think about this place, probably because of the water.? Slowly it all came back to Chance, as he started to rub a throbbing pain in the side of his head. ?As for whom I am: You can call me The Drifter. If all the dreams of all living creatures are cities inside the universe of reality then I am the tourist, eager to visit as many of them as possible.?
Connie started to think about the man?s looks, his tone of voice, his posture compared to people he can remember. ?Say, haven?t I seen you before somewhere??
The Drifter started to contemplate. ?Perhaps. I?ve visited more dreams than any human being can remember, and have seen more pieces of beauty and wonder than anyone could expect to experience in a lifetime. But the humans who dream of them I never remember; I?ve always found that the details of a world interest me more than its rulers ever have or ever will.? Kicking a loose pebble from the ground beneath him, he smiled to himself.
Gradually, Connie started to remember the real world and gain a sense of what was happening. ?Well, anyway. My name is Connie, if you want to-? He started to cough as water came out of his mouth. Although it started out as just half of a mouthful, this rapidly increased as more and more water started to escape his lips. Great, just as I was starting to get a grip on things again this happens.
Chance tried to force some words out of himself, as the water continued to force itself out of his mouth and across his stubble-laden chin. ?What?s happening?? He just managed to ask before coughing up yet more water.
?Hmm, it looks as if we?ve overstayed our welcome.? The Drifter claimed in a rather vague manner. ?The water is still entering the submarine in the real world, and it looks like you?re now starting to drown there.?
The water was still pouring from Chance?s mouth onto the floor. ?Is there anything," he choked on yet more water "You can do?? He started to plead. "Please. Help me."
The Drifter thought to himself for a second, watching Chance in pain. ?Well, I have an idea, but you?re not going to like it.? And with that, he brought out his sword hilt and ran towards Connie. Placing the end of the hilt on Chance?s stomach, a long and delicate blade pierced Connie?s gut and exited through his back.
[hr]
Eyes wide open, Connie gasped as he rose from the steel floor, his hair, clothes and face soaking wet. Sitting up, he coughed up a considerable amount of water, the disgusting taste of salt and whatever else is in the water here filling his taste buds, almost making him sick. Finished, he took a slow, deep breath in, before his jaw locked open and his eyes grew wide and blindingly bright. With no idea of what was happening, he sat in fear as a dark, odourless cloud exited his mouth and formed the shape of the man from his dream. The clouds disappeared as The Drifter floated before Connie, and then slowly dropped to the cold, wet floor.
Shaking his head to at least attempt to dry off his hair, Connie wasn?t sure what to think of all of this. ?What... just happened??
The Drifter brushed something off of his black waistcoat before answering the man?s question. ?Shock, that?s what just happened. No one likes to experience harm to themselves, even if the harm isn?t real. The pain of me suddenly stabbing you in your dreams was enough to shock you into waking up.? He glanced down at an old and disused radar, almost looking disappointed as nothing appeared on the screen. ?Of course, I could?ve just as easily left you to drown, you being my opponent and all. But where would the excitement be in that??
Connie stood up. Noticing his bowler hat on the floor, he picked it up but chose not to put it on after noticing how drenched it was in salt water. It would probably never be the same again, judging by how much salt was now in it. ?Wait, so you?re my opponent then??
Charles turned around to face Chance head on, removing the hilt of his sword from his pocket. ?I would guess so. We?re the only two people alive down here, and if my opponent was truly dead already then why am I still in this ocean prison?? A blade appeared from his hilt. ?I would warn you not to underestimate my weapon, but you?ve already seen what my blade can do.? Chance noticed that there was already fresh blood drying on the blade.
Was that blood from my dream? Regardless of that thought, Connie pulled two knives out of his coat pockets. ?Equally, I?d advise you not to underestimate my skill.?
A smile curled across Charles? face. ?Then battle it is.?
The two fighters charged at each other, blades drawn. Meeting at the centre, Chance attempted to swing the two knives in turn at Charles, but his reflexes meant that both were misses. In turn, Charles tried to parry this attack by ducking and trying to drive his blade into Connie?s gut again, but to no use. By the time he was able to go for it; Connie had already moved and was trying to stab Charles in the upper chest with the blade in his right hand. Neither side were willing to give in, as the water continued to rise around them, up to their shins by now.
After avoiding Chance?s latest swing, The Drifter decided to try and bring his sword onto Connie in a downward motion. As he did this, Chance raised both of his knives up in a cross to block the sword. The three blades were locked together, neither of their masters willing to back down. Eventually, Charles pushed Connie backwards, and gained some distance between the two of them for a change.
Unfortunately, Connie noticed this distance, and used this chance for a ranged attack to his advantage, pulling out a dagger from his coat and hurtling it towards his foe. Any human being with average reflexes would?ve been doomed, but Charles managed to avoid the blade, to see it drive straight into the hull of the submarine.
As more water poured into the submarine, the two of them got more frightened for their lives than for the fight that was going on. Where the water had previously been up to their shins it was now up to the crotches of their trousers and was advancing at a more rapid rate than before towards their waists. As impressed Charles was at how powerful that throw was, he chose not to contemplate that whilst they were still at risk from drowning.
However, Connie had other things on his mind. He thought about the hole he had just made in the hull. He imagined the hole not being there, that where there was a hole there was a plain, sheet of metal that was so perfectly welded into the hole that it would be impossible to even think of a hole having been there before. Charles looked at the knife in the hull, and was stunned as he saw it push itself out of the hole again and drop to the floor, where it was previously placed in the wall there now was a source of a liquid metal, filling the gap before solidifying into a perfect fit.
Charles was stunned by such a thing.
?What just, happ...? He turned to Connie. ?Did you just do that??
?It?s a bit more complicated than that.? Connie responded. ?Watch, I can also make the level of water in here go down.?
He imagined the water, which was by now just under waist level. He imagined it draining out of the submarine, pouring out through the same cracks in the water-seal that it had used to enter the vessel. Charles witnessed this as the water around the two of them started to defy almost every law of Physics he knew of in order to escape the submarine, until the only water left was an amount no higher than the soles of their shoes. And he was really impressed by it.
Facing Connie, he had to ask. ?How? How did you just do that??
Connie smiled as he turned away from The Drifter. ?I... I don?t know.? He looked towards the silver screen to think about it all. ?I just think of something happening and then... it happens.?
He turned back around, dragging his fingers through his soaking wet hair to keep it out of his face. ?It?s all very complicated and I?m not sure how it works either. All I know is that I?ve had these powers for a long time and that they have served me well some times and poorly other times.?
Charles moved slowly towards Chance. ?So you can use your mind to manipulate reality? Interesting.? He took on a contemplative look, as he carried on moving towards Chance.
Connie was curious. ?What do you mean ?interesting??? If there was even a mere theory related to his life and his powers then he wanted to know it.
?Think about it. You can manipulate reality all you want with your imagination. You have no idea how or as to why these powers came, all you know is that they are, like they?re an established part of the Universe.? He stopped walking, his black shoes picking up a slightly red tint from the blood of a former crewmember?s corpse. Facing Connie, he carried on explaining. ?Think about it. People dream of these powers, and yet you just happen to actually have them. I?ve been in many a world where humans have powers such as yours; such a correlation makes for an interesting predicament.?
Connie tried to make sense of these thoughts, when it suddenly snapped in his head. ?Are you saying that this,? he stretched his arm out to indicate the whole of this world that they were in, ?all of this, is a dream? That the whole of reality is my dream??
The Drifter shrugged a heavy shrug. ?What?s there to stop it??
?This- This can?t be a dream!? A look of confusion and distress fell upon Chance?s face. ?It?s reality. Reality can?t be a dream. It?s... it?s...?
?What?s the difference?? The Drifter exclaimed to grasp Connie?s attention. ?To a man who has spent his whole life in a dream, what is the difference between dreaming and reality??
Connie was struggling for an answer. ?Reality?s... reality is- it?s real. It can?t be a dream.?
The Drifter walked right up to Chance as he spoke, his words filling the echoes of the chamber. ?Your definition?s becoming circular. Once again, what?s the difference between a dream and reality to the man who has never woken up?? He moved so that his face was only a few inches away from Connie?s, before carrying on when they met eyes. ?That?s the funny thing about dreams; not all of them want to convince you that they?re fictional. Some dreams are so real that you humans can?t even tell the difference. Have you ever had one of those, Connie? I know an awful lot of people who have, so I would be amazingly surprised if you haven?t already been in one of those. A dream within this dream, even.?
Chance?s fears became overwhelmed. Anger started to pulsate through his veins as he pushed Charles backwards, drawing his knives as he did so that he could strike again fast. Preparing himself for this, The Drifter drew his blade once again from its hilt. ?Deny it all you want. In the end, ignorance may be the best bet for someone like you.?
The two warriors charged and clashed metal upon metal once again. Where one would attempt a swing the other would manage to block perfectly before pushing back. However, as this battle went on, Chance slowly became worse: His reactions were slower, his movements sloppier and less well-timed, and his blocks weaker, as his mind became more enveloped in the ideas rattling about in his brain.
What if this is all a dream? How much of my life have I spent separate from what was really happening in my life? Is this really who I am? If this is a dream, is this Drifter person really a traveller of dreams or is he just another figment of my imagination?
His reactions became too slow. Charles used a block to knock the knife out of his left hand before going in, and stabbing Chance Connie in the chest. Connie?s eyes became wide.
What happens now? Am I simply meant to wake up in my bed screaming?
[hr]
It was more of a gasp than a scream. Apart from that, Chance was pretty much right with his prediction, as he laid upright in the small bedroom of his home. Looking up, he saw the poster of his favourite band on the wall in front of him.
?Was it all... a dream??
Thunder clapped outside, and upon hearing it Connie noticed he was still wearing his soaking wet clothes. But as he undid the buttons on his coat, he found a small tear in the T-shirt underneath, and a large amount of blood.
?Apparently not. This place just brought me here like a magn-?
He never got to finish his thought that night, as he fell backwards onto the bed, shades of scarlet and crimson oozing from his chest and staining the white mattress and sheets below.
[hr]
Stuck inside the remains of the two submarines, The Drifter wasn?t entirely sure what had just happened either.
?So, was it all his dream??
Looking around, the world he was situated in didn?t appear to be falling apart like they normally do in dreams, but he wasn?t in the best position for observation of the world. The water was up to his kneecaps again and spots of Nothing were appearing all over the walls like before.
?And if this is a dream, where does that put me??
He looked at the corpses of the crew floating in the water, the red blood mixing with the translucent salt water to create a murky shade of pink, sprinkled with Nothing like tiny specs of dust. But not even the dead could answer his questions.
It didn?t take a lot of work to realise that he was the only crew member still alive; the stench of his friends? blood slowly mixing with the ever so penetrating taste of the salt water was enough of an indication. But this did leave him with a problem as to how he could escape and somehow survive on his own with nothing to assist him.
Moving carefully so that he dare not trip in this darkness, The Drifter travelled slowly towards the walls of the side of the submarine. Placing his palms against the wall, a tremor of cold entered from the steel, startling Charles for a second. As he felt along the side, slowly getting used to the bitter sting of the cold, there was nothing to sense. It was a shame; he was kind of hoping to find another world to escape into, even only to survive whilst his submarine inevitably floods itself. But alas, this ongoing battle had rid this sea of any life, and anything that was still here certainly wasn?t dreaming.
Charles adjusted his hat to stop the water from dripping on his waistcoat. Turning back around, he started trying to quell the fear of his time running out again. When you?re stuck in a slowly flooding room with no possible way out and the stench of flesh and salt overcoming any other sense of smell you have, the most you can do is try and stop being so damn afraid.
[hr]
The room is still flooding. For fuck sake, how long can this keep itself up for?! This is simply one example of the many thoughts that were running through Chance Connie?s mind as he ran across his submarine?s main chamber trying to find a way to restore power to the system. Unfortunately, such tasks are a major difficulty in trying to solve when there is nothing working and you?re completely covered in darkness. Great, first little girls and talking lions and now this.
He had somewhat of a success in finding the wiring to jumpstart the system, but there was still the problem of no source of electricity, a problem that until solved means that he isn?t going anywhere.
This is just a perfect way to spend your last few minutes, isn?t it? Drowning without even being able to see your last vision, how fucking brilliant! If only there was something to get this damn sub going again. Something like an emergency battery, or somethi-
His thoughts ceased as he opened a cupboard on the side of the walls to reveal exactly what he was looking for. Although he couldn?t see it, it was a fairly big, heavy box. Moving his palm along the top, he could feel two large, metallic pieces on top, like connectors. It was perfect.
Removing it from where it was being contained, he walked slowly towards a seat he was working on; putting all his strength into making sure he doesn?t drop it into the water. Connecting the wires to this big box, noises were made, as the overhead lights switched on again and revealed the whole room to Connie, stunning him with brightness.
Now careful, Chunchy, you don?t want to slip and hit your head on something when you?re doing this. But by then it was too late, as he slipped and knocked his head on the wall. Lying there, he slowly started to see this world fade away before himself.
[hr]
The Drifter noticed it. It was a weak sense from it being so far away and between so many walls, but he felt it. And although he couldn't see a thing in this darkness, let alone through the walls, he knew where it was coming from. He could feel it: a portal into another world. Someone was dreaming.
But first there was the question of how to get there. If he tried faring the sea in gas form, it would prove to be a difficult ride for him to get to that world alive. But by this point in time, that portal was his only hope of survival; the water was already climbing his body from the waist upwards and if he wasn't fast it would soon be over head level.
?Well, might as well try and make sure I remain a gas for as little time as possible.? He faced the ruined remains of his previously glorious crew. ?And it?s not as if I?m going to be requiring these people much longer.?
And on that note he reached for his sword, and pierced the wall. The room started to flood much quicker as Charles took on the form of a dark violet gas before escaping through the new gap provided. Once outside, he noticed the submarine opposite his, and he knew where the host of this new world was going to be. Guessing where the opposite submarine's water seal was broken, he moved towards a spot a few feet away from the far right propeller, desperate to find a way in.
Thankfully he guessed right, and made his way through the hull to find an unconscious male wearing a bowler hat and a buttoned coat. Entering the human?s nostrils and mouth, he made his way into the land of this man?s dreams.
[hr]
?Wake up...?
?Wake up...?
?Wake up.?
Chance?s eyes slowly opened as he found himself lying on the ground. He started to focus and noticed that he was on an old, beaten path that seemed to stretch along in a never-ending straight line before blurring into the fields on both sides of the path that went on for at least as far as the road itself did. As he sat up, he felt the soft rain tapping on his bowler, and saw a lanky man in a waistcoat and hat facing him.
?Wh- Where am I? I thought I was on the, the submarine and now...? He pointed at the man facing him. ?Who are you??
The man tilted his hat up so that his brown, chestnut eyes met those of Chance?s. ?You?re in a dream -- Your dream to be precise." When you travel through dreams, details like that you have a tendency to clarify. "You fell asleep where the other crewmen had died in the submarine and for some reason you started to think about this place, probably because of the water.? Slowly it all came back to Chance, as he started to rub a throbbing pain in the side of his head. ?As for whom I am: You can call me The Drifter. If all the dreams of all living creatures are cities inside the universe of reality then I am the tourist, eager to visit as many of them as possible.?
Connie started to think about the man?s looks, his tone of voice, his posture compared to people he can remember. ?Say, haven?t I seen you before somewhere??
The Drifter started to contemplate. ?Perhaps. I?ve visited more dreams than any human being can remember, and have seen more pieces of beauty and wonder than anyone could expect to experience in a lifetime. But the humans who dream of them I never remember; I?ve always found that the details of a world interest me more than its rulers ever have or ever will.? Kicking a loose pebble from the ground beneath him, he smiled to himself.
Gradually, Connie started to remember the real world and gain a sense of what was happening. ?Well, anyway. My name is Connie, if you want to-? He started to cough as water came out of his mouth. Although it started out as just half of a mouthful, this rapidly increased as more and more water started to escape his lips. Great, just as I was starting to get a grip on things again this happens.
Chance tried to force some words out of himself, as the water continued to force itself out of his mouth and across his stubble-laden chin. ?What?s happening?? He just managed to ask before coughing up yet more water.
?Hmm, it looks as if we?ve overstayed our welcome.? The Drifter claimed in a rather vague manner. ?The water is still entering the submarine in the real world, and it looks like you?re now starting to drown there.?
The water was still pouring from Chance?s mouth onto the floor. ?Is there anything," he choked on yet more water "You can do?? He started to plead. "Please. Help me."
The Drifter thought to himself for a second, watching Chance in pain. ?Well, I have an idea, but you?re not going to like it.? And with that, he brought out his sword hilt and ran towards Connie. Placing the end of the hilt on Chance?s stomach, a long and delicate blade pierced Connie?s gut and exited through his back.
[hr]
Eyes wide open, Connie gasped as he rose from the steel floor, his hair, clothes and face soaking wet. Sitting up, he coughed up a considerable amount of water, the disgusting taste of salt and whatever else is in the water here filling his taste buds, almost making him sick. Finished, he took a slow, deep breath in, before his jaw locked open and his eyes grew wide and blindingly bright. With no idea of what was happening, he sat in fear as a dark, odourless cloud exited his mouth and formed the shape of the man from his dream. The clouds disappeared as The Drifter floated before Connie, and then slowly dropped to the cold, wet floor.
Shaking his head to at least attempt to dry off his hair, Connie wasn?t sure what to think of all of this. ?What... just happened??
The Drifter brushed something off of his black waistcoat before answering the man?s question. ?Shock, that?s what just happened. No one likes to experience harm to themselves, even if the harm isn?t real. The pain of me suddenly stabbing you in your dreams was enough to shock you into waking up.? He glanced down at an old and disused radar, almost looking disappointed as nothing appeared on the screen. ?Of course, I could?ve just as easily left you to drown, you being my opponent and all. But where would the excitement be in that??
Connie stood up. Noticing his bowler hat on the floor, he picked it up but chose not to put it on after noticing how drenched it was in salt water. It would probably never be the same again, judging by how much salt was now in it. ?Wait, so you?re my opponent then??
Charles turned around to face Chance head on, removing the hilt of his sword from his pocket. ?I would guess so. We?re the only two people alive down here, and if my opponent was truly dead already then why am I still in this ocean prison?? A blade appeared from his hilt. ?I would warn you not to underestimate my weapon, but you?ve already seen what my blade can do.? Chance noticed that there was already fresh blood drying on the blade.
Was that blood from my dream? Regardless of that thought, Connie pulled two knives out of his coat pockets. ?Equally, I?d advise you not to underestimate my skill.?
A smile curled across Charles? face. ?Then battle it is.?
The two fighters charged at each other, blades drawn. Meeting at the centre, Chance attempted to swing the two knives in turn at Charles, but his reflexes meant that both were misses. In turn, Charles tried to parry this attack by ducking and trying to drive his blade into Connie?s gut again, but to no use. By the time he was able to go for it; Connie had already moved and was trying to stab Charles in the upper chest with the blade in his right hand. Neither side were willing to give in, as the water continued to rise around them, up to their shins by now.
After avoiding Chance?s latest swing, The Drifter decided to try and bring his sword onto Connie in a downward motion. As he did this, Chance raised both of his knives up in a cross to block the sword. The three blades were locked together, neither of their masters willing to back down. Eventually, Charles pushed Connie backwards, and gained some distance between the two of them for a change.
Unfortunately, Connie noticed this distance, and used this chance for a ranged attack to his advantage, pulling out a dagger from his coat and hurtling it towards his foe. Any human being with average reflexes would?ve been doomed, but Charles managed to avoid the blade, to see it drive straight into the hull of the submarine.
As more water poured into the submarine, the two of them got more frightened for their lives than for the fight that was going on. Where the water had previously been up to their shins it was now up to the crotches of their trousers and was advancing at a more rapid rate than before towards their waists. As impressed Charles was at how powerful that throw was, he chose not to contemplate that whilst they were still at risk from drowning.
However, Connie had other things on his mind. He thought about the hole he had just made in the hull. He imagined the hole not being there, that where there was a hole there was a plain, sheet of metal that was so perfectly welded into the hole that it would be impossible to even think of a hole having been there before. Charles looked at the knife in the hull, and was stunned as he saw it push itself out of the hole again and drop to the floor, where it was previously placed in the wall there now was a source of a liquid metal, filling the gap before solidifying into a perfect fit.
Charles was stunned by such a thing.
?What just, happ...? He turned to Connie. ?Did you just do that??
?It?s a bit more complicated than that.? Connie responded. ?Watch, I can also make the level of water in here go down.?
He imagined the water, which was by now just under waist level. He imagined it draining out of the submarine, pouring out through the same cracks in the water-seal that it had used to enter the vessel. Charles witnessed this as the water around the two of them started to defy almost every law of Physics he knew of in order to escape the submarine, until the only water left was an amount no higher than the soles of their shoes. And he was really impressed by it.
Facing Connie, he had to ask. ?How? How did you just do that??
Connie smiled as he turned away from The Drifter. ?I... I don?t know.? He looked towards the silver screen to think about it all. ?I just think of something happening and then... it happens.?
He turned back around, dragging his fingers through his soaking wet hair to keep it out of his face. ?It?s all very complicated and I?m not sure how it works either. All I know is that I?ve had these powers for a long time and that they have served me well some times and poorly other times.?
Charles moved slowly towards Chance. ?So you can use your mind to manipulate reality? Interesting.? He took on a contemplative look, as he carried on moving towards Chance.
Connie was curious. ?What do you mean ?interesting??? If there was even a mere theory related to his life and his powers then he wanted to know it.
?Think about it. You can manipulate reality all you want with your imagination. You have no idea how or as to why these powers came, all you know is that they are, like they?re an established part of the Universe.? He stopped walking, his black shoes picking up a slightly red tint from the blood of a former crewmember?s corpse. Facing Connie, he carried on explaining. ?Think about it. People dream of these powers, and yet you just happen to actually have them. I?ve been in many a world where humans have powers such as yours; such a correlation makes for an interesting predicament.?
Connie tried to make sense of these thoughts, when it suddenly snapped in his head. ?Are you saying that this,? he stretched his arm out to indicate the whole of this world that they were in, ?all of this, is a dream? That the whole of reality is my dream??
The Drifter shrugged a heavy shrug. ?What?s there to stop it??
?This- This can?t be a dream!? A look of confusion and distress fell upon Chance?s face. ?It?s reality. Reality can?t be a dream. It?s... it?s...?
?What?s the difference?? The Drifter exclaimed to grasp Connie?s attention. ?To a man who has spent his whole life in a dream, what is the difference between dreaming and reality??
Connie was struggling for an answer. ?Reality?s... reality is- it?s real. It can?t be a dream.?
The Drifter walked right up to Chance as he spoke, his words filling the echoes of the chamber. ?Your definition?s becoming circular. Once again, what?s the difference between a dream and reality to the man who has never woken up?? He moved so that his face was only a few inches away from Connie?s, before carrying on when they met eyes. ?That?s the funny thing about dreams; not all of them want to convince you that they?re fictional. Some dreams are so real that you humans can?t even tell the difference. Have you ever had one of those, Connie? I know an awful lot of people who have, so I would be amazingly surprised if you haven?t already been in one of those. A dream within this dream, even.?
Chance?s fears became overwhelmed. Anger started to pulsate through his veins as he pushed Charles backwards, drawing his knives as he did so that he could strike again fast. Preparing himself for this, The Drifter drew his blade once again from its hilt. ?Deny it all you want. In the end, ignorance may be the best bet for someone like you.?
The two warriors charged and clashed metal upon metal once again. Where one would attempt a swing the other would manage to block perfectly before pushing back. However, as this battle went on, Chance slowly became worse: His reactions were slower, his movements sloppier and less well-timed, and his blocks weaker, as his mind became more enveloped in the ideas rattling about in his brain.
What if this is all a dream? How much of my life have I spent separate from what was really happening in my life? Is this really who I am? If this is a dream, is this Drifter person really a traveller of dreams or is he just another figment of my imagination?
His reactions became too slow. Charles used a block to knock the knife out of his left hand before going in, and stabbing Chance Connie in the chest. Connie?s eyes became wide.
What happens now? Am I simply meant to wake up in my bed screaming?
[hr]
It was more of a gasp than a scream. Apart from that, Chance was pretty much right with his prediction, as he laid upright in the small bedroom of his home. Looking up, he saw the poster of his favourite band on the wall in front of him.
?Was it all... a dream??
Thunder clapped outside, and upon hearing it Connie noticed he was still wearing his soaking wet clothes. But as he undid the buttons on his coat, he found a small tear in the T-shirt underneath, and a large amount of blood.
?Apparently not. This place just brought me here like a magn-?
He never got to finish his thought that night, as he fell backwards onto the bed, shades of scarlet and crimson oozing from his chest and staining the white mattress and sheets below.
[hr]
Stuck inside the remains of the two submarines, The Drifter wasn?t entirely sure what had just happened either.
?So, was it all his dream??
Looking around, the world he was situated in didn?t appear to be falling apart like they normally do in dreams, but he wasn?t in the best position for observation of the world. The water was up to his kneecaps again and spots of Nothing were appearing all over the walls like before.
?And if this is a dream, where does that put me??
He looked at the corpses of the crew floating in the water, the red blood mixing with the translucent salt water to create a murky shade of pink, sprinkled with Nothing like tiny specs of dust. But not even the dead could answer his questions.
All right. Still no word from @Fraught or @NewClassic yet, but they have until the end of the day.
Exactly half the cast has asked for an extension, @Fraught hasn't given word and everyone else has already posted their entry. To those 3, I thank you.
Incidentally, I'm forced to give everyone an extension till the 31st. It's understandable, it is an awful time of year for this kind of thing, but I'm giving you all 3 weeks to work with now. As is with extensions, I won't have any more beyond New Years' Eve so get cracking.
All that aside, I was just popping over to say
Hope you guys all have a great day!
Incidentally, I'm forced to give everyone an extension till the 31st. It's understandable, it is an awful time of year for this kind of thing, but I'm giving you all 3 weeks to work with now. As is with extensions, I won't have any more beyond New Years' Eve so get cracking.
All that aside, I was just popping over to say
[HEADING=2]MERRY CHRISTMAS![/HEADING]
Hope you guys all have a great day!
To
@Revolverwolf
@NewClassic
@Zombie_Fish
@pigeon_of_doom
@Fraught
@Soothsayer
@HSIAMetalKing
and Armitage Shanks, who I can't for the life of me figure out how to tag.
Entries are due in today, and to be honest what I'm seeing here is far from abundant. Just making this post to remind you of the urgency.
@Revolverwolf
@NewClassic
@Zombie_Fish
@pigeon_of_doom
@Fraught
@Soothsayer
@HSIAMetalKing
and Armitage Shanks, who I can't for the life of me figure out how to tag.
Entries are due in today, and to be honest what I'm seeing here is far from abundant. Just making this post to remind you of the urgency.
Very sorry for taking so long, but my entry is here now with not a moment to spare.
With the start of round 3, Amelia started by releasing a huge sigh. This had been just about enough for her and she was about ready to have a break. She rested with her back to a tree and closed her eyes. "Not long now, huh?"
Henry tilted his head in confusion from his perch on a low branch.
"He said this was the penultimate fight, so that's the second to last one. So all we have to do is beat this last guy and we're in the final. Then once we win we can stop this tournament from ever happening again. And then we can get our gold!" She smiled genuinely, from actual happiness, for what was the first time since starting in the war. Just remembering the promised gold had put her back in a happy mood.
He rolled his little button eyes; Amelia could be so naive. However, she was right that there were only a few more fights left to the final. If only they were able to survive for that long. He jumped down from the branch and landed on the brim of Amelia's hat before they set off along a beaten track of moss and tree roots.
It wasn't long before Amelia had made it to a clearing, made distinct from the rest of this seemingly endless forest by a fighter, sitting with a wistful yet inhumane look about her. She had not been here for long and was currently running her fingers through the air, seeing which movement would best influence the environment to bring the harmony to a proper crescendo.
Henry jumped down from his place on the hat, thinking it best to surprise the opponent later. He scurried off and clambered up a tree, sitting himself down on a semi-low branch.
Eurania stopped suddenly. As she sensed her little opponent coming closer, she turned her eyes toward the challenger. She locked eyes with Amelia, only needing a second's glance to chill the little girl with that subhuman stare.
"You are here to destroy me too." The woman, if indeed a woman Amelia's crystalline opponent could be called, turned her gaze away. "I know you are going to try. As much as you pretend otherwise, everything about you sings of the intent. Worst of all, you think you're doing it for a good purpose. How wrong you are..."
Amelia stopped her approach, favouring a slow, circular path on the outermost edge of the clearing.
"You misunderstand so much. You have no idea what you have been meddled up in. This is no tournament as you have known it. There are things at work that are beyond your comprehension." Eurania raised herself from the rock in the centre of the clearing, "You knew death far too early but you came to terms with it quickly for one so young. However, your reasoning to absolve yourself is based on lies and deceit. You go on to kill again for the amusement of no one but yourself and for the false promises of wealth; no lie in the world could make you seem otherwise."
"That?s not true..." Amelia looked up at the humanoid with a blankness frozen on her face. She came to a stop in front of Eurania's place upon the rock.
"Is that so?" Eurania turned her head slightly, perhaps in contemplation. The gears of her mind were working at a response, "What makes you say that? What are you fighting for if not for your own selfishness and blind greed?"
A few seconds of total tranquil silence went by. Amelia didn't struggle to find an answer because she knew it already. "To stop the war."
"That is your means to an end. And that end is money. You can't hide that about yourself. Regardless of your lies or your means, you will always be chasing gold."
"Fine, so what I'm looking for gold? Does it even matter why I'm fighting?"
"It does. Because you've been fighting for a reason that is wrong. False. Complete fantasy... There is no gold," the bewildering subhuman voice spoke, "There never was."
The words were nothing from this machine; they were inhuman and insincere words that Amelia could only see as calculated lies.
"All that awaits you is death. You have been dragged into a game that is far above you. Only one of us can advance and if you do not concede, I will have to use force to ensure my place in the next round."
Amelia shook her head. She refused the truth, instead clinging on to the fictional gold. That was what she was always going to do and Eurania could tell that about her from the very moment they had traded that first glance.
"No. Not going to. I'm going to win whether you want me to or not. And then the gold's gonna be mine." Amelia readied her staff and a red light pulsed upon it's tip.
"I had hoped you would listen to reason. Such a pity." Eurania raised her hands, ready to begin the fight proper.
A deep howl tore the two away from their conversation as they felt a rush of earth beneath them. Amelia's eyes shot in each direction, attempting a search for her dear Henry before she would budge a single inch. He wasn't here! Her gaze shot back to the rock and she saw her opponent fleeing away into the endless forest.
"HENRY!" Her shriek rang out high above the cracking of earth for a second.
Land was shifting and grating and jutting upwards at unreal angles within only a few seconds. It cracked beneath her feet just as she raised herself from the ground. She continued her search from higher up, hoping for even a glimpse of her furred companion. But not even her opponent was in sight anymore. Amelia was alone here as the disaster raged below her.
The quake stopped after tearing across the battlefield for several minutes. For the fighters it must have felt like days.
The young witch dropped to the ground and took a slow, sweeping look around. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing at first. It was a bit like a game they had played; Henry would hide somewhere and she would have to find him. And usually she would have found him in some familiar side street or under a blanket in a shop but now... she was trying not to lose herself in what had just taken place.
"Henry...?"
No reply. Barely a sound as wind rattled through the torn battleground. All that remained here was the little witch.
She hadn't won yet either. she knew that if her opponent had perished in the earthquake that she would have left this place already. Instead she was still here and so to were her foe and her companion. She just had to look for them.
Henry had left the earthquake far behind him in pursuit of the enemy. She had started running just before the earthquake hit and now Henry was chasing as quickly as he could. With every jump he fired a shot, sending tree bark or broken earth flying away in scorched chunks as he missed his opponent. He was surprisingly fast for one so small and he was almost sure that he was getting nearer to the crystalline woman. He just needed a few more leaps.
He hurtled from his branch, bursting into flame and charging into the running foe. Eurania tumbled to the side and tried her best to remain in control of her movements but quickly Henry was able to shoot her foot and send her falling to the ground.
As she raised herself from the floor, dusting away flecks of dirt from herself, she looked to the creature that had pushed her. He was small, fluffy and armed with a hand-cannon that was pointed directly into her forehead. She didn't move until she was sure that the creature was fully aware of what she was intending.
"You have no idea what you're doing. This fight dictates things greater than all of creation and your rash actions would condemn them as the playthings of a naive child. You know as well as I do that such a fate would be worse than leaving reality itself to all of the other madmen populating this tournament."
Henry, devoid of words when so far from his other, only sought to listen. Sadly, he knew she was right. Amelia wasn't going to be able to do anything if she won. It actually hurt him a little to admit that she had only lasted this long because she had been metaphorically dragged kicking and screaming through the round before. And now it seemed that the only way she would get through this one was by his paw...
He lowered the gun.
"I see that you are more logical than the girl you follow." She raised herself into a crouch so that she still remained able to speak to Henry, roughly eye-to-eye. "But that makes you no less blind. You know that she will end up failing at some point. It is only made worse that you ignore that fact and instead help her continue. She doesn't understand just how important this is and, in her naivety, she will remove it. She can not be allowed to do so. You have to make her come here."
Amelia paced slowly along the ruined, uprooted forest path, turning her head this way and that in a disbelieving search for Henry. And if she found Eurania too, it would be a bonus.
Her heart sank deeper in her chest with every step, the hope for finding her companion going with it. What if she didn't ever find him? What if she had to continue on without him? These thoughts swam foremost in her mind, leaving her less and less sure as she scanned the environment.
In this forest, everywhere looked the same. It was all uprooted trees and dust on a semi-present breeze as far as she could see without a single other sight to give her a bearing. She'd been wandering for roughly five minutes. Finally she shrank to her knees, giving up with her vague attempts at finding Henry and Eurania. She laid down on the ground, closing her eyes and sighing. All she could do was wait now until the earthquake came again... It wouldn't be long.
A shot rang out and she wrenched her eyes open. That must have come from close by! She knew it, Henry must have found that woman! She pushed herself up from the floor, starting into a sprint and bringing her staff to readiness; Henry sounded as if he'd need help.
She ran in the direction of the shot, sure that she would now be on her way to defeating her enemy. Surely she found herself in an area of the forest in which her furred companion stood alone.
She looked around, unsure of the situation, before Henry pointed off behind her. She swung around, blasting fire from the end of her staff and scorching a patch of earth... It was a predictable assault that Eurania had been able to avoid with ease. Again and again she fired volleys of magic of every element she could think of until eventually she had screamed her lungs to breathlessness.
"That is precisely why you must not be allowed to win this tournament!" Eurania stumbled to a stop. "You fire first and think second, you refuse to accept the truth unless it suits you. These elements of your nature make you the very worst choice for this position of power over creation itself and yet you continue to push forwards, refusing to understand what it is you are doing! Without the other one here you would have easily been overpowered and killed by this point."
"I..."
"But then... He hasn't killed anyone. You've killed people to get here, despite how adverse you pretend to be to such violence. You destroy everything you touch. And if you reach any position of power over creation you will only manage to squander it. Whether you mean to or not, you're going to destroy things."
"I... I'm not..."
"Just because you use this war as a means to an end does not absolve you. You kill and destroy. Everything you do results in destruction and your efforts after this war will be no different. It would be best to end it all here."
"Shut up!" Amelia dropped her staff and fell to her knees, scratching at her head in a failing attempt to get the stinging chords out of her head, "Shutupshutupshutup!! Won't listen!"
"You can end it and let me continue on. You have to die. For the sake of everyone and everything, you have to die."
It was too much! She felt like the inside of her head was exploding with fire and all she could was scream and cry and bawl because it was so much more than she could cope with.
The sound in Amelia's ears ceased and the flames in her head died in an instant. She looked up at Eurania, not knowing what had just happened to cause the pain to stop.
"Henry!" He'd thrown himself at Eurania to split her attention. Amelia took the split second chance and grasped her staff, pushing it to an attack.
Eurania's crystal body shattered into a thousand glittering shards as the metal staff found its way into her stomach. She staggered backwards from her attacker, the little girl barely old enough to understand what she was doing, and she could make no noise. The lucid harmony she so adored broke down before her eyes as the witch tore the staff upwards with both hands. Crystal gears and shining sinuous threads tore as the staff passed through Eurania's head. Processes stopped and blackness invaded.
Amelia had triumphed.
So what she had to have Henry's help? She would have it no other way.
The lack of entries is worrying me...
-Act 1-
-Lies-
-Lies-
With the start of round 3, Amelia started by releasing a huge sigh. This had been just about enough for her and she was about ready to have a break. She rested with her back to a tree and closed her eyes. "Not long now, huh?"
Henry tilted his head in confusion from his perch on a low branch.
"He said this was the penultimate fight, so that's the second to last one. So all we have to do is beat this last guy and we're in the final. Then once we win we can stop this tournament from ever happening again. And then we can get our gold!" She smiled genuinely, from actual happiness, for what was the first time since starting in the war. Just remembering the promised gold had put her back in a happy mood.
He rolled his little button eyes; Amelia could be so naive. However, she was right that there were only a few more fights left to the final. If only they were able to survive for that long. He jumped down from the branch and landed on the brim of Amelia's hat before they set off along a beaten track of moss and tree roots.
It wasn't long before Amelia had made it to a clearing, made distinct from the rest of this seemingly endless forest by a fighter, sitting with a wistful yet inhumane look about her. She had not been here for long and was currently running her fingers through the air, seeing which movement would best influence the environment to bring the harmony to a proper crescendo.
Henry jumped down from his place on the hat, thinking it best to surprise the opponent later. He scurried off and clambered up a tree, sitting himself down on a semi-low branch.
Eurania stopped suddenly. As she sensed her little opponent coming closer, she turned her eyes toward the challenger. She locked eyes with Amelia, only needing a second's glance to chill the little girl with that subhuman stare.
"You are here to destroy me too." The woman, if indeed a woman Amelia's crystalline opponent could be called, turned her gaze away. "I know you are going to try. As much as you pretend otherwise, everything about you sings of the intent. Worst of all, you think you're doing it for a good purpose. How wrong you are..."
Amelia stopped her approach, favouring a slow, circular path on the outermost edge of the clearing.
"You misunderstand so much. You have no idea what you have been meddled up in. This is no tournament as you have known it. There are things at work that are beyond your comprehension." Eurania raised herself from the rock in the centre of the clearing, "You knew death far too early but you came to terms with it quickly for one so young. However, your reasoning to absolve yourself is based on lies and deceit. You go on to kill again for the amusement of no one but yourself and for the false promises of wealth; no lie in the world could make you seem otherwise."
"That?s not true..." Amelia looked up at the humanoid with a blankness frozen on her face. She came to a stop in front of Eurania's place upon the rock.
"Is that so?" Eurania turned her head slightly, perhaps in contemplation. The gears of her mind were working at a response, "What makes you say that? What are you fighting for if not for your own selfishness and blind greed?"
A few seconds of total tranquil silence went by. Amelia didn't struggle to find an answer because she knew it already. "To stop the war."
"That is your means to an end. And that end is money. You can't hide that about yourself. Regardless of your lies or your means, you will always be chasing gold."
"Fine, so what I'm looking for gold? Does it even matter why I'm fighting?"
"It does. Because you've been fighting for a reason that is wrong. False. Complete fantasy... There is no gold," the bewildering subhuman voice spoke, "There never was."
The words were nothing from this machine; they were inhuman and insincere words that Amelia could only see as calculated lies.
"All that awaits you is death. You have been dragged into a game that is far above you. Only one of us can advance and if you do not concede, I will have to use force to ensure my place in the next round."
Amelia shook her head. She refused the truth, instead clinging on to the fictional gold. That was what she was always going to do and Eurania could tell that about her from the very moment they had traded that first glance.
"No. Not going to. I'm going to win whether you want me to or not. And then the gold's gonna be mine." Amelia readied her staff and a red light pulsed upon it's tip.
"I had hoped you would listen to reason. Such a pity." Eurania raised her hands, ready to begin the fight proper.
A deep howl tore the two away from their conversation as they felt a rush of earth beneath them. Amelia's eyes shot in each direction, attempting a search for her dear Henry before she would budge a single inch. He wasn't here! Her gaze shot back to the rock and she saw her opponent fleeing away into the endless forest.
"HENRY!" Her shriek rang out high above the cracking of earth for a second.
Land was shifting and grating and jutting upwards at unreal angles within only a few seconds. It cracked beneath her feet just as she raised herself from the ground. She continued her search from higher up, hoping for even a glimpse of her furred companion. But not even her opponent was in sight anymore. Amelia was alone here as the disaster raged below her.
---
-Act 2-
-Amelia Alone-
-Act 2-
-Amelia Alone-
The quake stopped after tearing across the battlefield for several minutes. For the fighters it must have felt like days.
The young witch dropped to the ground and took a slow, sweeping look around. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing at first. It was a bit like a game they had played; Henry would hide somewhere and she would have to find him. And usually she would have found him in some familiar side street or under a blanket in a shop but now... she was trying not to lose herself in what had just taken place.
"Henry...?"
No reply. Barely a sound as wind rattled through the torn battleground. All that remained here was the little witch.
She hadn't won yet either. she knew that if her opponent had perished in the earthquake that she would have left this place already. Instead she was still here and so to were her foe and her companion. She just had to look for them.
---
-Act 3-
-Henry versus Eurania-
-Act 3-
-Henry versus Eurania-
Henry had left the earthquake far behind him in pursuit of the enemy. She had started running just before the earthquake hit and now Henry was chasing as quickly as he could. With every jump he fired a shot, sending tree bark or broken earth flying away in scorched chunks as he missed his opponent. He was surprisingly fast for one so small and he was almost sure that he was getting nearer to the crystalline woman. He just needed a few more leaps.
He hurtled from his branch, bursting into flame and charging into the running foe. Eurania tumbled to the side and tried her best to remain in control of her movements but quickly Henry was able to shoot her foot and send her falling to the ground.
As she raised herself from the floor, dusting away flecks of dirt from herself, she looked to the creature that had pushed her. He was small, fluffy and armed with a hand-cannon that was pointed directly into her forehead. She didn't move until she was sure that the creature was fully aware of what she was intending.
"You have no idea what you're doing. This fight dictates things greater than all of creation and your rash actions would condemn them as the playthings of a naive child. You know as well as I do that such a fate would be worse than leaving reality itself to all of the other madmen populating this tournament."
Henry, devoid of words when so far from his other, only sought to listen. Sadly, he knew she was right. Amelia wasn't going to be able to do anything if she won. It actually hurt him a little to admit that she had only lasted this long because she had been metaphorically dragged kicking and screaming through the round before. And now it seemed that the only way she would get through this one was by his paw...
He lowered the gun.
"I see that you are more logical than the girl you follow." She raised herself into a crouch so that she still remained able to speak to Henry, roughly eye-to-eye. "But that makes you no less blind. You know that she will end up failing at some point. It is only made worse that you ignore that fact and instead help her continue. She doesn't understand just how important this is and, in her naivety, she will remove it. She can not be allowed to do so. You have to make her come here."
---
-Act 4-
-Aria of Flame-
-Act 4-
-Aria of Flame-
Amelia paced slowly along the ruined, uprooted forest path, turning her head this way and that in a disbelieving search for Henry. And if she found Eurania too, it would be a bonus.
Her heart sank deeper in her chest with every step, the hope for finding her companion going with it. What if she didn't ever find him? What if she had to continue on without him? These thoughts swam foremost in her mind, leaving her less and less sure as she scanned the environment.
In this forest, everywhere looked the same. It was all uprooted trees and dust on a semi-present breeze as far as she could see without a single other sight to give her a bearing. She'd been wandering for roughly five minutes. Finally she shrank to her knees, giving up with her vague attempts at finding Henry and Eurania. She laid down on the ground, closing her eyes and sighing. All she could do was wait now until the earthquake came again... It wouldn't be long.
A shot rang out and she wrenched her eyes open. That must have come from close by! She knew it, Henry must have found that woman! She pushed herself up from the floor, starting into a sprint and bringing her staff to readiness; Henry sounded as if he'd need help.
She ran in the direction of the shot, sure that she would now be on her way to defeating her enemy. Surely she found herself in an area of the forest in which her furred companion stood alone.
She looked around, unsure of the situation, before Henry pointed off behind her. She swung around, blasting fire from the end of her staff and scorching a patch of earth... It was a predictable assault that Eurania had been able to avoid with ease. Again and again she fired volleys of magic of every element she could think of until eventually she had screamed her lungs to breathlessness.
"That is precisely why you must not be allowed to win this tournament!" Eurania stumbled to a stop. "You fire first and think second, you refuse to accept the truth unless it suits you. These elements of your nature make you the very worst choice for this position of power over creation itself and yet you continue to push forwards, refusing to understand what it is you are doing! Without the other one here you would have easily been overpowered and killed by this point."
"I..."
"But then... He hasn't killed anyone. You've killed people to get here, despite how adverse you pretend to be to such violence. You destroy everything you touch. And if you reach any position of power over creation you will only manage to squander it. Whether you mean to or not, you're going to destroy things."
"I... I'm not..."
"Just because you use this war as a means to an end does not absolve you. You kill and destroy. Everything you do results in destruction and your efforts after this war will be no different. It would be best to end it all here."
"Shut up!" Amelia dropped her staff and fell to her knees, scratching at her head in a failing attempt to get the stinging chords out of her head, "Shutupshutupshutup!! Won't listen!"
"You can end it and let me continue on. You have to die. For the sake of everyone and everything, you have to die."
It was too much! She felt like the inside of her head was exploding with fire and all she could was scream and cry and bawl because it was so much more than she could cope with.
The sound in Amelia's ears ceased and the flames in her head died in an instant. She looked up at Eurania, not knowing what had just happened to cause the pain to stop.
"Henry!" He'd thrown himself at Eurania to split her attention. Amelia took the split second chance and grasped her staff, pushing it to an attack.
Eurania's crystal body shattered into a thousand glittering shards as the metal staff found its way into her stomach. She staggered backwards from her attacker, the little girl barely old enough to understand what she was doing, and she could make no noise. The lucid harmony she so adored broke down before her eyes as the witch tore the staff upwards with both hands. Crystal gears and shining sinuous threads tore as the staff passed through Eurania's head. Processes stopped and blackness invaded.
Amelia had triumphed.
So what she had to have Henry's help? She would have it no other way.
The lack of entries is worrying me...
Me too. pigeon_of_doom sent me a message, and I thank him for at the very least giving me any signs of life, but NYE is well and truly over. I've given everyone 3 weeks, and to be honest saying that I'm disappointed at the output is an understatement.revolverwolf said:
I feel a bit like Gabe.
I've put a lot of work into this though, so like hell if I'm going to quit in a huff. And thankfully, 4 have posted their entries so there's no point in waiting any more.
Therefore Armitage Shanks, HSIAMetalKing, revolverwolf and Zombie_Fish all advance to the next round by default. If any of the judges could write some form of a review so the round doesn't go entirely to waste, that would be great.
As for the 4 aforementioned: I'll see you with the Semis sometime in the next couple of days.
Well, it seems even with a week's extension, I still couldn't get done what I wanted to get done. I wrote a few posts- yet none of them felt right to me, and I wasn't going to post something I wasn't altogether comfortable with and that I felt wasn't my best. I want to apologize for all of the shit, and I secede from my current ranking or whatever on here.
I especially want to apologize to Zemalac, as I appear to have entirely wasted my victory over him... There is always next year, I suppose- but this year just did not work out at all for me. Once again, I'm sorry for being an overall shit contestant and doing this to y'all.
I especially want to apologize to Zemalac, as I appear to have entirely wasted my victory over him... There is always next year, I suppose- but this year just did not work out at all for me. Once again, I'm sorry for being an overall shit contestant and doing this to y'all.
Some form of a review....?
Uhhhh...
Well shucks, I'll give it my best shot then. I know I'm not exactly great with reviews though..
I wonder what happened to everyone anyway. :/
Uhhhh...
Well shucks, I'll give it my best shot then. I know I'm not exactly great with reviews though..
I wonder what happened to everyone anyway. :/