The Grand OC SII: The Re-OCening: Week 29: UNINTELLIGIBLE!

The Grand OC SII: The Re-OCening: Week 29: UNINTELLIGIBLE!
Username: Agenball
Name: Aidan Aynsley, Tomas Arnsdale and Charles Essen (And the Our Lord and Lady Hartley Shanes Orphanage Memorial Football Stadium)
Gender: Male, Male, Male and Genderless
Color: HIKE!

Biography: Maybe it's in the middle of the night. Or maybe it's the dawn hours, when the sky is silver-orange and the sun begins to peek through the skyscrapers, scattering the clouds. In any case, the first thing you see of them is the light: bright, harsh, artificial. Painful stuff, right from the halogen family, the kind that leaves a four-by-eight grid of floodlamp images burned onto your retina.

So you start walking that way, clutching your briefcase (or another implement of choice, and does anyone actually use briefcases anymore?), probably wondering how it is you're going to complain about the lights that go on when decent people are walking the city streets, trying to go home or leave home or whatever it is you're doing. But none of that matters, because pretty soon you hear the strangest cheer you've ever heard. It's your local football anthem, the one that only got taught to seven kids and their mothers, and it's coming from what sounds like a multitude of ragged throats, hoarse from the singing. You're singing, too, by the way, and your song mixes with the other songs, producing new and stranger songs from the harmonics (or lack thereof). It sounds something like this:

"THE"

"HARTLEY SHANES"

"STADIUM"

"ADMINISTRATION"

"APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY IN GAME"

"LOST BALL PROVISIONS"

"NECROMANTIC RITES"

The grass is too green, and there are only three linebackers. If you squint and shade your eyes with your briefcase (oh good, you held on to that), you can just make out their names: Aynsley, Arnsdale and Essen. They stand back to back in the center of the pitch; Aynsley facing one crossbarred goalpost, Essen facing the other, Arnsdale between them. They are very pale, and the stained grass around them suggests that one or all of them has lost a lot of blood.

Your throat is really starting to hurt, but you can't seem to stop singing. Your legs hurt, too, from climbing the neverending staircases. You see an empty spot in the bleachers, and you know right away this is your refuge, that this is your place now. Everything hurts, but it feels good to put your briefcase on that cheap plastic seat. It feels good to stand in disharmony with your fellow spectators and to sing your heart out...

Description: All right. Real talk. Football stadiums are all well and good, but when you demolish an orphanage to make room, and when you accidentally demolish the orphanage with the orphans inside, and when you build the stadium over their macerated corpses, and when some marketing coach decides to do half-time entertainment out of some half-assed dance moves he pulled out of an old crumbling leather-bound tome...

There's tempting fate and then there's this, if you get my drift.

Items/Abilities: Wherever Hartley Shanes goes, it will continue to gather people - singers - fans. Only a full house will do. Aynsley, Arnsdale and Essen are its hands in the world; every so often they go out into the world and hooks more people in, adds them to the choir. They are very strong, and they cannot be killed by any conventional means.

When it has all the singers, the last song shall begin. And then... well. Then the big game can start again.

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RE: The Grand OC SII: The Re-OCening: Week 11: HARSH! - by AgentBlue - 04-03-2016, 03:48 PM