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Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
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Elize
 Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#1
Probably not a zombie alchemist

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Posts: 57
Joined: Jan 2013
Yeehaw, USA
In one of the far-flung corners of infinity, in what would be the grungy upper floor of a posh theater, six stagehands were assembled before their manager.

"We're going to try something a little different for the next show," it said. "I want each of you to find me someone from anywhere and anywhen. Someone who the audience can love or hate. Someone who can fight. Someone who can die. Bring them here. We're going to make one of them a star."

LINEUP
Garuru - Barkeep (#454500)
Spoiler :
Name: Barkeep
Gender: Male
Race: Game construct
Weapons / Abilities: He naturally knows all the rumors of the land, although no one is really sure where he got this information. People originally thought that it was due to the number of unusual people passing through his bar, but nobody has been able to find the people that may have told him all he knows. He is also a skilled one-man bartender, able to attend up to 15 people at the same time with both food and drinks, with very little delay. It's unclear where he actually gets the food and drinks, but no one seems to mind. He never seems to get tired or even take breaks. In fact, he has never even been caught sleeping. He also has a gun, for dire emergencies only.
Description: He is pretty much your ordinary bartender from any given fantasy Tabletop RPG. He has short salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He has a mysterious scar on his face, running just below his eye, but when asked about it, he insists it's no big deal. His clothes are a fairly generic brown, but they're clean at least. He likes to polish glasses in his spare time, though that's mostly due to giving his hands something to do. He is very amicable, only getting upset when someone threatens him with property damage, and even then, it's only an unnerving frown and polite insistence that they leave. Similarly, he is never unfazed by bizarre events happening in front of him. As a barkeep, all he wants is a serene life attending to people and hearing their stories. Should any severe conflicts appear, he will roll up his sleeves and attend to the problem in the most gentlemanly way possible.
Errata: Note: as a game construct, he functions differently from ordinary people, but he is physically utterly indistinguishable from other people, unless they pay very close attention to his habits. He will take on a human form by default, but if he ends up in a society with no humans, his form will be changed in order to fit in easier. He can't get injured, rather, his vitality is closely linked with the vitality of the place he happens to be in. In other words, only property damage can actually hurt him, and even then it will always be accompanied by a feeling of wrongness, like the rules were broken.
!? - Cliff and Snake (#000080)
Spoiler :
Name: Cliff and Snake
Gender: Male (Cliff) and female (Snake)
Race: Human (Cliff) and lesser ouroboros (Snake)
Weapons / Abilities: Cliff’s sword, like almost everything he’s ever touched, has a rather unfortunate name: in this case, Something Something of Death. In conversation he refers to it as Sosod. The sword was bound to him before he was even old enough to hold it, and the ritual that magically connected them had to be rushed slightly, so any hope of a good name was thrown out the window in order to keep everything else working well. The blade is black, with a light blue hilt to match Cliff’s armor, and is normally meant to be wielded with one hand—it can get larger, however, if Cliff places both hands on the hilt and concentrates. Within the blade is a very small, self-replenishing cartridge of magic: in this world, a sand-like substance. Despite the fact that it can ‘reload’ a supposedly infinite number of times, this takes a while and therefore magical swordplay is mostly restricted to one spell per battle. Also, the amount of magic that it can hold at one time only allows for small spells to be cast, such as the size increase it may undergo. It is also worth noting that spells used may only affect the sword itself directly and temporarily, such as making it sharper, more durable, or hotter (it can reach a surprisingly high temperature)—and Cliff could not, for example, use the magic in the sword to project an energy shield or launch a fireball… even if the fireball were leaping from the tip of the blade. Cliff has a good level of experience wielding Sosod, and though it has been used to kill before, and though it has ‘death’ in its name, Cliff would only resort to killing if nothing else worked. Also, his armor is enchanted to be slightly more durable than it looks—nothing remarkable, though it will provide more effective protection against high falls and bludgeoning than stabbing weapons. As a final note, Snake is able to wrap around his waist as a belt. This does roughly nothing for him beyond aesthetics, but Snake herself is better protected in this position.
Cliff was born with an extra organ in his body that has a somewhat-self-replenishing-but-not-really supply of magic. If he casts a small spell, he’ll probably get the magic back, but if he does something much larger, it will permanently scar this organ, which will possibly spread and cause other organs to fail, eventually leading to his death. This wouldn’t be a problem in Amna or Neo-Ras, where he could simply have it removed, but out in the battle that probably won’t be a possibility. As with the sword, all of Cliff’s spells are temporary modifications to himself. Increasing the duration of a modification takes no more magic, but it does take more effort and concentration. In order to make something permanent, he would need an additional amount of magic at the outset, and whether or not concentration would be required to keep it present would depend on whether it is a physical or a magical modification. He’s not the strongest hero out there, but he’s fast and agile, and as mentioned he is fairly resourceful. As an Amnan, his metabolism is the product of an environment where food is scarce—from an evolutionary perspective, since Amnan civilization has advanced enough to make this mostly a non-issue. Anyway, this means that Cliff can go longer without food than most other humans. He’s used to living pretty well, though, so he’ll be pretty uncomfortable going several weeks without food, but he will survive.
Snake, as a Lesser Ouroboros, has a few abilities uncommon to her fellow serpents. Foremost, she can effectively freeze herself in time by biting her own tale. In this petrified state, she won’t age, and she is quite a bit more durable, though she can’t move without the aid of a strong wind. She isn’t a constrictor, and her venom isn’t lethal, but it does induce sleep or lethargy in most animals if she can penetrate their flesh with her fangs. She shares with the rest of her species an all-liquid diet, and as such her fangs are able to siphon up nearly any liquid—and most will suffice, as the main function of her venom is to combine with ingested liquids in order to create something safe for consumption. She prefers animal blood, but she could go for some time on a diet of plain water or other substances. And because she’s that smart, she’s managed to get around her limited ability to speak: because her link to Cliff is magical in nature, and that is always present, she can potentially gain the ability to speak and the sense of sight at any time through intense concentration. When her eyes glow, it is the only time she has a functional sense of sight, and everything is tinted yellow.
Together, they share a Bond of Familiarity—Cliff’s bond with Sosod makes him the only one who can use its magic, and makes it slightly harder for other people to wield it. The Bond of Familiarity is more powerful than that. This bond allows the two to communicate telepathically (to an extent, more through emotions than specific phrases) and inherently know each other’s relative locations. Normally, killing one Familiar would drive the other insane, but through intense training of mental stamina they believe that oe would still be able to function if the other was killed, though they might experience moderate-to-severe memory loss. This training was the result of an agreement that they would be able to avenge each other’s deaths, and may make them resistant to psionic attack—though in their world, that isn’t really a thing.
Description: Of only slightly-above-average height, Cliff is thin enough that he appears, from a distance at least, to be nearly a head higher. Like all Amnans, his skin is rather dark and he is completely bald. His clothing is of a cyan material which resembles leather in texture, and leaves essentially only his head and hands bare. Also, it’s thinner at prominent joints, and exposed near the ankles. His sword is in a scabbard on his back at all times, and his hands tend to twitch slightly while he isn’t holding it. His posture isn’t that great, and he tends to continuously survey his surroundings. When speaking to people, he is usually calm, though he’ll often seem distracted. In tone, his voice is fairly deep, though average for a young man of his height. Although communication isn’t often an issue in these things, I should mention that he was brought up speaking Amnan, which has long, rounded vowels and soft edges, and he has trouble covering his accent when speaking the sharply enunciated, tight, and conservative language of Rassic. He is still fluent in both tongues.
Snake is dark grey in color, and not particularly long or thick. As a snake, she has no eyelids, but unlike most of her brethren, she also lacks eyes… most of the time. In the presence of magic, bright yellow light emanates from her empty sockets, and she becomes able to speak. Her voice at this time is predictably raspy and whispery, but in a way that’s honestly more obnoxious than foreboding. She understands both Amnan and Rassic through a psychic link between her and Cliff, but more on that later. She is most often found either wrapped around Cliff’s waist or slithering next to him.
Cliff began as a brash young adventurer, and is still brash and adventurous now, but to a lesser extent. He is torn between a longing to see the world and a longing of equal passion to return home to Amna. He’s a bit hyperactive, and he twitches when not occupied by anything. Also, some ambushes and assassination attempts have made him paranoid, and he looks around constantly. Despite this, he has learned to stay focused on a task, and will see a task through to the end if he starts it. He is quite loyal to people who’ve earned his trust, but that’s gotten harder over the years—he can be quick to judge, especially sorcerers and non-humans. His entire view of the concept of heroism is based around self-sacrifice, so he’s been known to act drastically in dire situations and put his life on the line even when it might not have been necessary. Overall, however, he considers himself more of a wanderer than a hero, taking on adventures for money—though lately he’s been more than willing to take payment for just traveling somewhere and mapping the place, worn down by nine-and-a-half years of combat-heavy adventuring. He isn’t quite educated, but he is smart and resourceful, and can figure his way out of a tough situation.
Snake is a bit sore about her name, and doesn’t enjoy being addressed, but other than that is actually very approachable. Though she can only speak in the presence of magic, she is quick to comfort or defend any who appear in need if she believes they deserve it. Also, despite being Cliff’s familiar, Snake is surprisingly independent, and if anything she’s the more social of the two. Most of the time, Snake can hold a conversation for longer than Cliff, as she is better able to adapt to the personalities of others. She tends to function as Cliff’s voice of reason as well, and has on multiple occasions prevented him from getting into a fight with another over matters of human politics—something which Snake really doesn’t care about.
Errata: Cliff was born in the highlands of Amna and, during one of the earlier ceremonies and celebrations following his birth, it was discovered that he had within him a magic-generating organ. Realizing that it would probably stop working with age, all later ceremonies were dedicated to making sure he would remain capable throughout his life of creating his own power. As a result, his naming rite was rushed, and he was left with the unfortunate moniker of Clombd. At the age of eight, during a rite which would bind him to a sword (as was common for the children of warrior families like his), it was discovered that, despite their best efforts, they had failed to prevent his magic generator from deteriorating. They thought that giving him a magical sword would help, and had to—again—rush the blade’s naming ceremony in order to fit in the magical additions. Two years later, they discovered that this still wasn’t working, and bound him to a creature that reacted strongly to magic, again rushing the naming ceremony for reasons that young Clombd would never understand (maybe they were just so used to it by then). Oddly enough, this appeared to be the trick, and at the age of twelve Clombd and Snake left Amna for the city-state of Neo-Ras before Clombd’s family could do any further damage. Too ashamed of his birth name, Clombd insited on just being called “That Guy from the Cliff,” which was eventually shortened to “Cliff.” Taking on menial jobs at first, Cliff became an adventurer-for-hire after three-and-a-half years, once he became mostly fluent in Rassic. This is what he’s been doing since, taking on various missions for any individual who would pay what he thought was sufficient. As such, he’s seen much of the world and made quite a name for himself, and not all that much surprises him anymore. And if you don’t want to do any math, he’s roughly twenty-five right now.
Brom - Dahlia Belstrap (#006400)
Spoiler :
Name: Dahlia Belstrap
Gender: Female
Race: Augmented human
Weapons / Abilities: Strap is a Courier for Dangerous People. She has to know how to take care of herself. Her primary weapon is the solar powered Ventcore Shoulder-fired recoilless rifle usually slung across her back.
The Ventcore projects a hard-light explosive flechette capable of punching through most body armor and potentially walls, depending on how charged it is. By turning it round the other way and gunning the exhaust port, Strap can do what people in her profession call “frog blasting the Ventcore” with the aid of a clunky pair of frictionless skates (spraypainted a cheerful green). It allows her to boost forward at phenomenal speeds, even up into the air for brief instances. Years of practice have let her control her boosting.
Sort of.
A good third of her by now has had to be replaced due to work-related injury. She has the average augs of a courier: reticule, mental uplink with eyecams, reinforced joints with shock absorption, and, of course, the tiny bomb on the back of her neck, ready to swiftly decapitate her if she stops playing by the Triad's rules. Of special note is her synthetic right arm she got to replace the one an enforcer from the Fantoma Vengadores took for a debt unpaid. It has a hollow forearm and cycles in for a combat knife or a narrow, metalcarving laser on command.
Her aim is good with most weapons, but anything low-tech enough to have much of a kick to it messes with her spread. She regularly carries a wicked little snub-nose automatic she keeps in her arm.
All of these augmentations are paid for and technically owned by the Triad and have sunk her further into debt. Her body is no longer entirely her own, and with every injury sustained in her duties the Triad replaces more of it and puts her further into debt.
Description: A high school dropout with a chip on the shoulder that isn't carrying her laser-powered rocket launcher, Strap lives fast, but not fast enough to outrun her regrets and the people she's consistently managed to get on the wrong side of. She's as quick, sharp, and (at 5'1”) compact as the knife she's got hidden in her elbow. Her black bomber jacket's got ceramic plates stitched on the inside and various badges of the trade, vulgar slogans, and maybe a skimpy-dressed devil or two stitched on the outside.
Most girls her age would wear the goggles to piss their suburban parents off, but that's what her nose ring and her green dreadlocks are for. The goggles are to keep from blinding herself off her Ventcore blasts and to protect herself at the blatantly unsafe speed she operates.
She's working off her debt for the Qing triad, desperately avoiding the debt collectors of the Fantomas Vengadores, keeping her head down around the Pureline Brotherhood, and holding the corners of her spiraling life down as much as humanly possible.
Errata: Dahlia Belstrap's life thus far has been an unfortunate subversion of the cyberpunk ideal. She made a few mistakes early and let things slide entirely out of hand. Most of her time is spent working for people she is desperately and rightfully afraid of, pretending to her friends she retains any sort of control in her life, staring blankly at the peeled wallpaper of her Hab-Block, and battling her mounting insomnia. She hasn't talked to her family in four years. She is rocketing down a path with one possible destination, and it is a grisly and unfortunate one, and she knows it. Her removal to the grand battle severs the complex plexus of criminal debts and responsibilities she has been laboring under, resulting in a degree of freedom she hasn't experienced for half a decade.
bigro - Humbert Kinnaird (#ff0000)
Spoiler :
Name: Humbert Kinnaird
Gender: Male
Race: Demon
Weapons / Abilities: His only weapon is a guitar that he has had jinxed to be on his person at all times, if it is stolen or forgotten it simply re-appears on his person.
Description: Humbert appears human. Average height, very fit for his age (50's) and usually dressed in casual yet smart looking garb.
When he isn't rocking out this is.
When rocking Humbert turn into a true demon, a stature of 4 men, giant horns protruding unevenly from his appendages, flames engulfing his entire being, a forked tongue flickering from a a bovine head, 4 buffed arms with 4 meaty hands and a long and whip like tail. If there ever was a parallel for a demon it would be Humbert when rocking.
It was not always like this, you see Humbert was cursed. Humbert, being a middle aged rock idol of the past had recently attained a prime time position on a prime television network for his show “Death Stage” wherein he tutored several budding rockers in the arts in a crude and widely criticised manner. This was all and well, when a wizard deemed this unacceptable after appearing in season 3 of his show and taking a berating from Humbert.
The wizard cursed him with turning into a total demon that he was acting like when he practised his passion. In addition to this the wizard cursed him to be incapable of being nice when teaching as to hinder his ambitions in teaching the next generation.
Unfortunately wizards aren't known for their logic and ratings soared. The show survived another 5 seasons over it's expected death. Towards the end however, it was becoming apparent that Humbert wasn't human any more, as the demon curse was wearing in. Towards the end of the series you can make out reddish skin when he was rocking, as well as that one time the drums caught fire. Admitted to curse rehab he was told he would never rock again.
This of course never keeps a rocker down. At his next big live gig, he went full demon and there were 43 fatalities.
Since then, he has been living in a cell, not teaching, not rocking. Much to his disgust. He is just bursting to get out and teach the world of his arts.
Errata: Incapable of any genre but rock, his weakness is classical music.
Whimbrel - Ikhinde (#a515a5)
Spoiler :
Name: Ikhinde [ih-KEEN-day]
Text color: #A515A5
Gender: Female, no matter the current body/ies.
Race: Multimorphic Kleptoparasite
Equipment/Abilities: Ikhinde is a hivemind who primarily obtains her bodies by displacing the original occupants. Once the soul is displaced, she is able to shove it into another vessel, and gains limited transformative capabilities over the stolen body. She begins the battle with a single body; a harpy with a heart defect.
To displace a soul, Ikhinde first obtains an invitation into the body, and then simply allows herself to fill the available space, compressing the host's soul until it can be dislodged. Without an invitation, she is incapable of entering another's body. Without entering a body she cannot compress a soul, and is thus unable to pry them out of their shell. In a similar vein, she has great difficulty dealing with free-floating souls, as it is nearly impossible for her to envelop and compress them.
She cannot gain control over artificial or predominantly non-biological bodies, they simply go inert once their owner is incapacitated. However, she can place souls inside bodies that she is unable to occupy, provided that they would be able to operate them. She does not obtain any of the memories, skills, or supernatural capabilities possessed by the former inhabitants of her bodies, nor does she store her own memories, skills, thoughts, etc. within the confines of her skulls. Still, she will die if she loses all of her bodies, to death or otherwise.
The strength of her transformational capabilities is directly tied to the number of bodies she possesses at a given time. With only one body, the changes she can maintain are nearly insignificant. A slight change of pigment over a small area. A papercut temporarily healed. A problematic blood vessel sealed off. She is unable to permanently alter her bodies with her ability, but she is capable of sustaining a transformation indefinitely, for as long as she has sufficient bodies to enable the transformation. The further a transformation deviates from the unaltered state of the body, the more powerful she would need to be to enable or sustain it. The strength of this power does not function like a "pool" that all her bodies draw from, that would allow one body to make extreme changes by locking the others in their original forms. The strength is a measure of how far from the original form she can currently transform all bodies, and remains the same no matter how many bodies are transformed, so long as her body count remains constant.
Though Ikhinde has lived many lifetimes, in many simultaneous bodies, she has not amassed as much knowledge as one might reasonably expect. Though she is capable of processing vast quantities of sensory information and has practiced to be able to respond appropriately to each body's situation as though independent of the others, Ikhinde is quite poor at academics. She has attempted to learn useful academic skills countless times; elemental summoning, geometric computations, planeswalking, structural configuration, forgotten poetry, and so on. Inevitably she would become bored or frustrated by the material or the teacher, and consequently pay less attention to that particular body. She seldom retained anything of use from such attempts. She's picked up a bit of golemancy from her most recent lover, largely thanks to her soul-manipulating ability enabling her to bypass the most complex parts of the ritual.
Description: In her youth, Ikhinde did indeed exploit her innate abilities to a truly monstrous extent. Though she remains the monster in myth, she has spent the centuries following her defeat learning to function as a member of civilized society, and considers herself completely reformed.
She abides by her word, and endeavors to barter honestly and fairly with others, especially when it is concerning the ownership of their bodies. She attempts to avoid committing violence and murder--she reminds herself that while she can afford to lose a body or two, most people cannot. She strives to be polite, considerate, and aware of the existence of other people as something possessing inherent value.
To reinforce the last point, Ikhinde has taken to keeping at least one body in close proximity to a loved one whenever possible. Her family currently consists of five surviving children from various relationships, and one longtime lover.
[Image: 2ed38z8.png]
She now obtains most of her bodies from deals with the elderly and those with serious health problems, placing their souls in quality golems in exchange. She is able to apply her transformative powers towards repairing and rejuvenating these bodies, allowing her to use them for substantially longer than they ought to have lasted.
Her harpy body is nearly six feet tall, more than half of which is attributable to her stilt-like legs, ending in talons better suited to perching than to walking. Her wingspan is a bit over sixteen feet, but she is unable to use them to do more than glide short distances until she is able to strengthen the muscles. Her coloration is predominantly a yellowed green, accented by a burst of fuschia feathers at the neck. Her primary and secondary wing feathers are discolored, but otherwise normal for a harpy. giving A belt of tinted glass beads attaches to her striped half-skirt, and secures a heavily embroidered satchel to her back. The vambraces worn on her arms and legs are decorative rather than functional, made of soft leather and secured with yellow ribbons.
Flummox - Mariel (#707070)
Spoiler :
Name: Mariel
Gender: Feminine
Race: Divine implement
Weapons / Abilities: She has a mean swing with that stop sign. She also seems to be able to produce copies of the Bible out of seemingly nowhere. She’s made of stone and can’t fly, but sometimes she, uh, forgets that.
Description: Mariel is the instrument of God’s justice, an angel sent among mortals to judge the sinners from the saints, easing up the Savior’s job when He comes back down from Heaven. That doesn't explain why she’s made of stone and covered in moss and bird shit, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the “tomb marker somehow turned animate” theory, which doesn't explain jack. Besides, God works in mysterious ways.
She looks like what you might expect a stone tomb angel to look like. A gentle face, albeit totally unemotional, with a neat cascade of wavy hair that would definitely be shining and golden if it were real. The years of water streaming down her face have given her black streaks of tears (she weeps for the hearts of sinners). Immaculately sculpted wings are folded against her back. Her hands reflexively fold up into a praying position, ceremonially holding her prized possession: a rusty old stop sign, which she uses to behead those whose sins are unforgivable. Everything else is concealed behind a loose, flowing robe, also stone. All of it is pockmarked and worn, and of course, covered in moss and bird shit.
Outwardly, she appears confident in her faith, but sometimes she questions God's decisions and wonders why He made her out of stone, moss, and bird shit.
Nobody really knows where she came from, but it was a pretty big headline when she killed some dude in Times Square. It seems pretty impossible for something like that to subsequently disappear from the sights of the police and the military, but that's what happened.

IMPORTANT LANDMARKS
Round 1 - Faerie

EXPLANATION FOR POSTERITY
Spoiler :
What is this?
This is a Grand Battle! It is, in short, a six-way collaborative writing project disguised as a writing contest disguised as a roleplay battle. Six beings of varied origin are forced together by a nigh-omnipotent power and told to kill one another. You write about what happens next.

How does it work?
First you submit a character. It can be anyone or anything from any sort of setting you'd like. I will choose six of them, and they will be thrust (presumably against their will) into a battle to the death with one another. From that point on, the six people who submitted those characters will be writing about the exploits of their character as well as all the others in whatever setting I put them in. They may just start fighting, they may plot to overthrow the contest, they may have other goals that are completely unrelated to the battle at all. However, they can't just kill one another outright! Once the events in the setting have reached a dramatic crescendo, the player whose writing was least interesting will be eliminated from the competition and their character will die. The remaining writers and characters will proceed to the next round in a new setting of my specification, and the process will repeat until only one remains.

So the characters can be anything?
Well, yes and no. Remember that ultimately, the goal is to make an interesting story. No player characters will die until the round is over, at which point the chosen character will ultimately die, regardless of how implausible. If your character is so powerful you would have difficulty rationalizing them NOT instantly destroying all the others outright, you will probably have a hard time writing them. Likewise, if they're so sturdy that you'd have difficulty putting them in a situation where the other characters might kill them, you will also have a tough time. However, these aren't rules, just guidelines; the field is wide open. Other battles have had everything from living cartoon characters to radioactive fruit to sentient cultural revolutions to cyborg zombie vacuum cleaners. All you need is to fill out this form:
Spoiler :
Code:
[b]Name:[/b] What do we call your character?
[b]Text color:[/b] This is the text color associated with your character, just to more easily differentiate between them.
[b]Gender:[/b] At least give us a pronoun to use.
[b]Race:[/b] or species or model number or something to tell us what your character is.
[b]Weapons/Abilities:[/b] Tell us the relevant stuff your character is good at. Precise detail isn't important (this will often get expanded on in the battle itself) but do give us an overview.
[b]Description:[/b] The two important questions here are "What does your character look like?" and "how can we expect them to behave?" Again, precise detail is not necessary, but do at least touch on both of those questions. A picture is acceptable but by no means required.
[b]Errata:[/b] Anything extra you want to tell us goes here. Give us a biography, a tale from their past, someone else's description of them, or nothing at all.

Is this one related to the others?
The best answer I can give is "don't worry about it". Much like Schazer's Grand Battle S?, continuity is strictly on an "If everyone wants it" basis. It will certainly not, however, have any ties to seasons 1-3. There is no "required reading" list.

Does this replace Schazer's second battle?
Absolutely not. If you signed up for Grand Battle S? and didn't get in, Schazer is still planning on hosting a second battle where there will be a slot saved for you. But, whether you would rather join my battle now or join her second battle when it goes up, you won't be hurting either of our feelings.
(This post was last modified: 09-17-2013, 06:32 PM by Elize.)
06-18-2013, 09:33 PM
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Gatr
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#2
it's gatr!

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Posts: 2,602
Joined: Nov 2011
Name: Barkeep
Text color: #454500
Gender: Male
Race: Game Construct
Description: He is pretty much your ordinary bartender from any given fantasy Tabletop RPG. He has short salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He has a mysterious scar on his face, running just below his eye, but when asked about it, he insists it's no big deal. His clothes are a fairly generic brown, but they're clean at least. He likes to polish glasses in his spare time, though that's mostly due to giving his hands something to do. He is very amicable, only getting upset when someone threatens him with property damage, and even then, it's only an unnerving frown and polite insistence that they leave. Similarly, he is never unfazed by bizarre events happening in front of him. As a barkeep, all he wants is a serene life attending to people and hearing their stories. Should any severe conflicts appear, he will roll up his sleeves and attend to the problem in the most gentlemanly way possible.
Weapons/Abilities: He naturally knows all the rumors of the land, although no one is really sure where he got this information. People originally thought that it was due to the number of unusual people passing through his bar, but nobody has been able to find the people that may have told him all he knows. He is also a skilled one-man bartender, able to attend up to 15 people at the same time with both food and drinks, with very little delay. It's unclear where he actually gets the food and drinks, but no one seems to mind. He never seems to get tired or even take breaks. In fact, he has never even been caught sleeping. He also has a gun, for dire emergencies only.
Errata: Note: as a game construct, he functions differently from ordinary people, but he is physically utterly indistinguishable from other people, unless they pay very close attention to his habits. He will take on a human form by default, but if he ends up in a society with no humans, his form will be changed in order to fit in easier. He can't get injured, rather, his vitality is closely linked with the vitality of the place he happens to be in. In other words, only property damage can actually hurt him, and even then it will always be accompanied by a feeling of wrongness, like the rules were broken.

[Image: 6xGo4ab.png][Image: sig.gif]
(This post was last modified: 06-24-2013, 08:44 PM by Gatr.)
06-19-2013, 05:04 PM
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!?
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#3
Some Random Account

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Posts: 16
Joined: Jun 2013
And it's finally done. I rushed this a bit, so it's not my best work. Let me know of any typos/grammatical errors/things that need clarification so I can fix it.

Spoiler :
Name: Cliff and Snake

Pronoun: He and she

Race: Human, from the nation of Amna; Lesser Ouroboros

Text Color: He’s an adventurer! (#000080)

Appearance: Of only slightly-above-average height, Cliff is thin enough that he appears, from a distance at least, to be nearly a head higher. Like all Amnans, his skin is rather dark and he is completely bald. His clothing is of a cyan material which resembles leather in texture, and leaves essentially only his head and hands bare. Also, it’s thinner at prominent joints, and exposed near the ankles. His sword is in a scabbard on his back at all times, and his hands tend to twitch slightly while he isn’t holding it. His posture isn’t that great, and he tends to continuously survey his surroundings. When speaking to people, he is usually calm, though he’ll often seem distracted. In tone, his voice is fairly deep, though average for a young man of his height. Although communication isn’t often an issue in these things, I should mention that he was brought up speaking Amnan, which has long, rounded vowels and soft edges, and he has trouble covering his accent when speaking the sharply enunciated, tight, and conservative language of Rassic. He is still fluent in both tongues.

Snake is dark grey in color, and not particularly long or thick. As a snake, she has no eyelids, but unlike most of her brethren, she also lacks eyes… most of the time. In the presence of magic, bright yellow light emanates from her empty sockets, and she becomes able to speak. Her voice at this time is predictably raspy and whispery, but in a way that’s honestly more obnoxious than foreboding. She understands both Amnan and Rassic through a psychic link between her and Cliff, but more on that later. She is most often found either wrapped around Cliff’s waist or slithering next to him.

Personality: Cliff began as a brash young adventurer, and is still brash and adventurous now, but to a lesser extent. He is torn between a longing to see the world and a longing of equal passion to return home to Amna. He’s a bit hyperactive, and he twitches when not occupied by anything. Also, some ambushes and assassination attempts have made him paranoid, and he looks around constantly. Despite this, he has learned to stay focused on a task, and will see a task through to the end if he starts it. He is quite loyal to people who’ve earned his trust, but that’s gotten harder over the years—he can be quick to judge, especially sorcerers and non-humans. His entire view of the concept of heroism is based around self-sacrifice, so he’s been known to act drastically in dire situations and put his life on the line even when it might not have been necessary. Overall, however, he considers himself more of a wanderer than a hero, taking on adventures for money—though lately he’s been more than willing to take payment for just traveling somewhere and mapping the place, worn down by nine-and-a-half years of combat-heavy adventuring. He isn’t quite educated, but he is smart and resourceful, and can figure his way out of a tough situation.

Snake is a bit sore about her name, and doesn’t enjoy being addressed, but other than that is actually very approachable. Though she can only speak in the presence of magic, she is quick to comfort or defend any who appear in need if she believes they deserve it. Also, despite being Cliff’s familiar, Snake is surprisingly independent, and if anything she’s the more social of the two. Most of the time, Snake can hold a conversation for longer than Cliff, as she is better able to adapt to the personalities of others. She tends to function as Cliff’s voice of reason as well, and has on multiple occasions prevented him from getting into a fight with another over matters of human politics—something which Snake really doesn’t care about.

Weapons: Cliff’s sword, like almost everything he’s ever touched, has a rather unfortunate name: in this case, Something Something of Death. In conversation he refers to it as Sosod. The sword was bound to him before he was even old enough to hold it, and the ritual that magically connected them had to be rushed slightly, so any hope of a good name was thrown out the window in order to keep everything else working well. The blade is black, with a light blue hilt to match Cliff’s armor, and is normally meant to be wielded with one hand—it can get larger, however, if Cliff places both hands on the hilt and concentrates. Within the blade is a very small, self-replenishing cartridge of magic: in this world, a sand-like substance. Despite the fact that it can ‘reload’ a supposedly infinite number of times, this takes a while and therefore magical swordplay is mostly restricted to one spell per battle. Also, the amount of magic that it can hold at one time only allows for small spells to be cast, such as the size increase it may undergo. It is also worth noting that spells used may only affect the sword itself directly and temporarily, such as making it sharper, more durable, or hotter (it can reach a surprisingly high temperature)—and Cliff could not, for example, use the magic in the sword to project an energy shield or launch a fireball… even if the fireball were leaping from the tip of the blade. Cliff has a good level of experience wielding Sosod, and though it has been used to kill before, and though it has ‘death’ in its name, Cliff would only resort to killing if nothing else worked. Also, his armor is enchanted to be slightly more durable than it looks—nothing remarkable, though it will provide more effective protection against high falls and bludgeoning than stabbing weapons. As a final note, Snake is able to wrap around his waist as a belt. This does roughly nothing for him beyond aesthetics, but Snake herself is better protected in this position.

Abilities: Cliff was born with an extra organ in his body that has a somewhat-self-replenishing-but-not-really supply of magic. If he casts a small spell, he’ll probably get the magic back, but if he does something much larger, it will permanently scar this organ, which will possibly spread and cause other organs to fail, eventually leading to his death. This wouldn’t be a problem in Amna or Neo-Ras, where he could simply have it removed, but out in the battle that probably won’t be a possibility. As with the sword, all of Cliff’s spells are temporary modifications to himself. Increasing the duration of a modification takes no more magic, but it does take more effort and concentration. In order to make something permanent, he would need an additional amount of magic at the outset, and whether or not concentration would be required to keep it present would depend on whether it is a physical or a magical modification. He’s not the strongest hero out there, but he’s fast and agile, and as mentioned he is fairly resourceful. As an Amnan, his metabolism is the product of an environment where food is scarce—from an evolutionary perspective, since Amnan civilization has advanced enough to make this mostly a non-issue. Anyway, this means that Cliff can go longer without food than most other humans. He’s used to living pretty well, though, so he’ll be pretty uncomfortable going several weeks without food, but he will survive.

Snake, as a Lesser Ouroboros, has a few abilities uncommon to her fellow serpents. Foremost, she can effectively freeze herself in time by biting her own tale. In this petrified state, she won’t age, and she is quite a bit more durable, though she can’t move without the aid of a strong wind. She isn’t a constrictor, and her venom isn’t lethal, but it does induce sleep or lethargy in most animals if she can penetrate their flesh with her fangs. She shares with the rest of her species an all-liquid diet, and as such her fangs are able to siphon up nearly any liquid—and most will suffice, as the main function of her venom is to combine with ingested liquids in order to create something safe for consumption. She prefers animal blood, but she could go for some time on a diet of plain water or other substances. And because she’s that smart, she’s managed to get around her limited ability to speak: because her link to Cliff is magical in nature, and that is always present, she can potentially gain the ability to speak and the sense of sight at any time through intense concentration. When her eyes glow, it is the only time she has a functional sense of sight, and everything is tinted yellow.

Together, they share a Bond of Familiarity—Cliff’s bond with Sosod makes him the only one who can use its magic, and makes it slightly harder for other people to wield it. The Bond of Familiarity is more powerful than that. This bond allows the two to communicate telepathically (to an extent, more through emotions than specific phrases) and inherently know each other’s relative locations. Normally, killing one Familiar would drive the other insane, but through intense training of mental stamina they believe that one would still be able to function if the other was killed, though they might experience moderate-to-severe memory loss. This training was the result of an agreement that they would be able to avenge each other’s deaths, and may make them resistant to psionic attack—though in their world, that isn’t really a thing.

Bio: Cliff was born in the highlands of Amna and, during one of the earlier ceremonies and celebrations following his birth, it was discovered that he had within him a magic-generating organ. Realizing that it would probably stop working with age, all later ceremonies were dedicated to making sure he would remain capable throughout his life of creating his own power. As a result, his naming rite was rushed, and he was left with the unfortunate moniker of Clombd. At the age of eight, during a rite which would bind him to a sword (as was common for the children of warrior families like his), it was discovered that, despite their best efforts, they had failed to prevent his magic generator from deteriorating. They thought that giving him a magical sword would help, and had to—again—rush the blade’s naming ceremony in order to fit in the magical additions. Two years later, they discovered that this still wasn’t working, and bound him to a creature that reacted strongly to magic, again rushing the naming ceremony for reasons that young Clombd would never understand (maybe they were just so used to it by then). Oddly enough, this appeared to be the trick, and at the age of twelve Clombd and Snake left Amna for the city-state of Neo-Ras before Clombd’s family could do any further damage. Too ashamed of his birth name, Clombd insited on just being called “That Guy from the Cliff,” which was eventually shortened to “Cliff.” Taking on menial jobs at first, Cliff became an adventurer-for-hire after three-and-a-half years, once he became mostly fluent in Rassic. This is what he’s been doing since, taking on various missions for any individual who would pay what he thought was sufficient. As such, he’s seen much of the world and made quite a name for himself, and not all that much surprises him anymore. And if you don’t want to do any math, he’s roughly twenty-five right now.

Miscellaneous: Cliff’s reaction might actually be hilarious if the Grandmaster introduces him as Clombd. Also, if it turns out that there’s and actual snake called a Lesser Ouroboros, it’s completely unintentional. I really know nothing about snakes.

Spoiler :
Grand Battles

The $300,000 Fight-A-Thon: Cockfighter Brawlmite
Sublime Showdown: Cliff and Snake

***

OCs

Contest 3--Sirens: Shif Ava Serefa
Contest 4--Command: The Serene
Contest 9--Weeks 1-8: Reyna Ale
Contest 23--Angle: Thelst
Contest 24--Swag: Dere
(This post was last modified: 06-29-2013, 07:22 PM by !?.)
06-19-2013, 08:22 PM
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bigro
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#4
Please explain

Offline
Posts: 2,242
Joined: Dec 2012
I have the power of god
tentative reserve, internal debate raging over how I'm gonna tackle this.

Consider it tackled.

Spoiler :


Name: Humbert Kinnaird.

Text colour: RED FOR RAGE

Gender: Male

Race: Demon

Weapons/Abilities: His only weapon is a guitar that he has had jinxed to be on his person at all times, if it is stolen or forgotten it simply re-appears on his person.

Description: Humbert appears human. Average height, very fit for his age (50's) and usually dressed in casual yet smart looking garb.

When he isn't rocking out this is.

When rocking Humbert turn into a true demon, a stature of 4 men, giant horns protruding unevenly from his appendages, flames engulfing his entire being, a forked tongue flickering from a a bovine head, 4 buffed arms with 4 meaty hands and a long and whip like tail. If there ever was a parallel for a demon it would be Humbert when rocking.

It was not always like this, you see Humbert was cursed. Humbert, being a middle aged rock idol of the past had recently attained a prime time position on a prime television network for his show “Death Stage” wherein he tutored several budding rockers in the arts in a crude and widely criticised manner. This was all and well, when a wizard deemed this unacceptable after appearing in season 3 of his show and taking a berating from Humbert.

The wizard cursed him with turning into a total demon that he was acting like when he practised his passion. In addition to this the wizard cursed him to be incapable of being nice when teaching as to hinder his ambitions in teaching the next generation.

Unfortunately wizards aren't known for their logic and ratings soared. The show survived another 5 seasons over it's expected death. Towards the end however, it was becoming apparent that Humbert wasn't human any more, as the demon curse was wearing in. Towards the end of the series you can make out reddish skin when he was rocking, as well as that one time the drums caught fire. Admitted to curse rehab he was told he would never rock again.

This of course never keeps a rocker down. At his next big live gig, he went full demon and there were 43 fatalities.
Since then, he has been living in a cell, not teaching, not rocking. Much to his disgust. He is just bursting to get out and teach the world of his arts.

Errata: Incapable of any genre but rock, his weakness is classical music.

[Image: 933hfLL.png][Image: aCQpT7Z.png][Image: iRoHjKM.png]
(This post was last modified: 06-20-2013, 06:25 AM by bigro.)
06-20-2013, 03:50 AM
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Flummox
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#5

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Posts: 8
Joined: Dec 2011
Name: Mariel
Text Color: #707070
Race: Divine implement
Description:
Mariel is the instrument of God’s justice, an angel sent among mortals to judge the sinners from the saints, easing up the Savior’s job when He comes back down from Heaven. That doesn't explain why she’s made of stone and covered in moss and bird shit, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the “tomb marker somehow turned animate” theory, which doesn't explain jack. Besides, God works in mysterious ways.
She looks like what you might expect a stone tomb angel to look like. A gentle face, albeit totally unemotional, with a neat cascade of wavy hair that would definitely be shining and golden if it were real. The years of water streaming down her face have given her black streaks of tears (she weeps for the hearts of sinners). Immaculately sculpted wings are folded against her back. Her hands reflexively fold up into a praying position, ceremonially holding her prized possession: a rusty old stop sign, which she uses to behead those whose sins are unforgivable. Everything else is concealed behind a loose, flowing robe, also stone. All of it is pockmarked and worn, and of course, covered in moss and bird shit.
Outwardly, she appears confident in her faith, but sometimes she questions God's decisions and wonders why He made her out of stone, moss, and bird shit.
Nobody really knows where she came from, but it was a pretty big headline when she killed some dude in Times Square. It seems pretty impossible for something like that to subsequently disappear from the sights of the police and the military, but that's what happened.
Abilities:
She has a mean swing with that stop sign. She also seems to be able to produce copies of the Bible out of seemingly nowhere. She’s made of stone and can’t fly, but sometimes she, uh, forgets that.
06-20-2013, 05:49 AM
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myw
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#6

Offline
Posts: 198
Joined: Mar 2013
Name: Warpman(John Jacobs)
Text color: A heroic...whatever this is
Gender: dude
Race: Superhero
Weapons/Abilities: Apparently, teleporting (really, invisibility and vague particle abilities that help him make things more and less slippery) Stolen equipment from various supervillains, most notably King Squid's organic smoke bomb fluid.
Description: Warpman is a B-lister hero- not a big namer, but relatively popular. He does street level crime, and sometimes the bigger stuff, if they really need a hand. He looks pretty cool.
Spoiler :
[Image: 9d2.png]
He's exactly what you expect a hero to be- big, muscular, heroic. He doesn't talk much and has a dark and angry costume, giving him a fairly large cult fanbase.

Warpman is almost a complete lie.
John isn't a very good person. He was gifted in a complete freak accident involving lightning and unstable particles with the ability to control particles that somehow allowed him to control some friction and the interactions of particles with light. Not going to pretend I know what that entails.

He's a hero for money. The costume and his demeanor are a play for popularity.

Really, he's just a huge cynic who happened to be gifted, and is using his gifts to get paid.

He isn't that muscular. Most of it is armored padding, stolen from a different, smarter super villain, repainted and put under some unstable particle costume which was also stolen. Of course, he has the muscle underneath from all that practice, but its really not as impressive as you'd expect from how he looks in costume. Almost all of his gear is stolen off tech-based villains.

Mildly paranoid. He works alone so that no one would track him down. He lies about his power because he believes that that way, his powers won't be used against him, and people would try to avoid capturing him. He believes misdirection will always give him an edge.

In order to fake being "Warpman," he uses organic Squid bombs to act as if he were disappearing, and then uses another when he turns uninvisible again.

Errata: Kind of a jerk.
Really, being a hero doesn't pay that much. Most of his income comes from mugging muggers late at night while invisible.
Probably woulda been a supervillain, but he figured he was more likely to get his shit pushed in that way.
06-20-2013, 06:54 AM
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Nopad
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#7
Eternally Damned

Offline
Posts: 517
Joined: Aug 2012
ok I'll reserve
I don't have an idea but i'll write Something
06-20-2013, 07:10 AM
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SupahKiven
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#8
Bang

Offline
Posts: 660
Joined: Mar 2013
WOAH
I'll just uh... leave this here. Yup.

Spoiler :
Name: King
Text Color: Black as the Underworld(bold)
Gender: Male
Race: Unknown (possibly human)

Weapons/Abilities: King carries a claymore, about as long as his arm, forged from an unbreakable steel in the fires of the underworld. He seems strong enough to resist intense amounts of heat and pressure. Also has telepathy, strangely enough.

Description: King is a bulky skeleton of supposed human origin. He stands at 6'9". His ribcage seems a bit more puffed out and swollen then a normal human ribcage, but not by much. His bones are bleached white, but covered in stains of yellow, gray, and red; all from various sources. King is also missing his jawbone. He wears a king's crown on his skull, always shifted to the right in preference. A purple cloak of unknown material is draped over his shoulders and back. This cloak has two golden shoulderpads attached to it. He carries his sword in his left hand.

King was more of the strong silent type, even before the loss of the thing he used for talking in a rather tumultuous fight. He believes that actions speak louder than words, therefore, he acts much more often than he speaks. As he's spent as long as he can remember fighting, King has a fair amount of 'Warrior's pride', meaning he values the fight over his life (if he even has any) and honors any last wishes of his enemies, as long as they don't interfere with death. Honestly, King acts more like a chivalrous knight than a commander of an undead army.

Errata: King is one of three rulers in their 'section' of the Underworld. He is the Warrior ruler, the other two being the Persuasive and Inventor rulers. In addition to leading the armies, King is the public figure head. He was taken during a downtime in fighting, making him both happy to be fighting again, but worried for his land. What if there's an enemy attack while he's gone?

King gained his telepathy when he lost his lower jaw in a particularly fierce battle with some demons. It came to him the 'day' after. He chalks it up to lingering demon magics, but in truth, he has no idea where the power came from.
(This post was last modified: 06-26-2013, 01:09 AM by SupahKiven.)
06-20-2013, 07:48 PM
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MeltingBard
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#9

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Posts: 12
Joined: Jun 2013
Putting in a reserve, though might drop to give an even noobier friend their own chance
06-22-2013, 04:35 PM
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Nopad
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#10
Eternally Damned

Offline
Posts: 517
Joined: Aug 2012
Spoiler :
At least, Steve used to be alive. He's pretty sure of that. 'Tsorta like how you notice when you're breathing, but you sure as heck pay attention when the wind gets knocked out of you. It probably felt nice to breathe.

Steve is––well, he's not quite sure. Actually, he's not completely sure if he's a he, but if he's going by Steve, he may as well go by he, too.

Steve's a color, first and foremost. Green, but not like those spring greens that dance around the strip mall like the afterlife was an after school special. No, a sturdy, solid green. Forest. The slice right between emerald and black-coffee brown. Reek-of-a-September-pond-just-before-the-moon-rises green.

He can touch objects. Persuade them to move, sometimes, if they're already inclined to do so. They usually glow Steve-green, too, if they're feeling agreeable. Not really glow, though. The light doesn't really go out, so much as it gets taken in.

These days, Steve's been getting around with a couple of boots th'look like they're crossing the last item on a bucket list. Gives people something to look at if they need to. Stays out of their way if they don't. It's a mutual relationship.

Steve's here to please.

Name: Steve
Color: #143308
Race: G-g-g-g-g-g-ghooost!
Weapons/Ablities: Object friendliness and possession
06-22-2013, 10:41 PM
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Brom
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#11
HE IS DEAD. . . .

Offline
Posts: 88
Joined: Mar 2013
. . . .BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
Spoiler :
Name: Dahlia Belstrap.
Text color: Aftershock green.
Gender: Female.
Race: Human, with severe augmentations. Age 20.

Weapons/Abilities: Strap is a Courier for Dangerous People. She has to know how to take care of herself. Her primary weapon is the solar powered Ventcore Shoulder-fired recoilless rifle usually slung across her back.
The Ventcore projects a hard-light explosive flechette capable of punching through most body armor and potentially walls, depending on how charged it is. By turning it round the other way and gunning the exhaust port, Strap can do what people in her profession call “frog blasting the Ventcore” with the aid of a clunky pair of frictionless skates (spraypainted a cheerful green). It allows her to boost forward at phenomenal speeds, even up into the air for brief instances. Years of practice have let her control her boosting.
Sort of.
A good third of her by now has had to be replaced due to work-related injury. She has the average augs of a courier: reticule, mental uplink with eyecams, reinforced joints with shock absorption, and, of course, the tiny bomb on the back of her neck, ready to swiftly decapitate her if she stops playing by the Triad's rules. Of special note is her synthetic right arm she got to replace the one an enforcer from the Fantoma Vengadores took for a debt unpaid. It has a hollow forearm and cycles in for a combat knife or a narrow, metalcarving laser on command.
Her aim is good with most weapons, but anything low-tech enough to have much of a kick to it messes with her spread. She regularly carries a wicked little snub-nose automatic she keeps in her arm.
All of these augmentations are paid for and technically owned by the Triad and have sunk her further into debt. Her body is no longer entirely her own, and with every injury sustained in her duties the Triad replaces more of it and puts her further into debt.

Description: A high school dropout with a chip on the shoulder that isn't carrying her laser-powered rocket launcher, Strap lives fast, but not fast enough to outrun her regrets and the people she's consistently managed to get on the wrong side of. She's as quick, sharp, and (at 5'1”) compact as the knife she's got hidden in her elbow. Her black bomber jacket's got ceramic plates stitched on the inside and various badges of the trade, vulgar slogans, and maybe a skimpy-dressed devil or two stitched on the outside.
Most girls her age would wear the goggles to piss their suburban parents off, but that's what her nose ring and her green dreadlocks are for. The goggles are to keep from blinding herself off her Ventcore blasts and to protect herself at the blatantly unsafe speed she operates.
She's working off her debt for the Qing triad, desperately avoiding the debt collectors of the Fantomas Vengadores, keeping her head down around the Pureline Brotherhood, and holding the corners of her spiraling life down as much as humanly possible.

Errata:
-Dahlia Belstrap's life thus far has been an unfortunate subversion of the cyberpunk ideal. She made a few mistakes early and let things slide entirely out of hand. Most of her time is spent working for people she is desperately and rightfully afraid of, pretending to her friends she retains any sort of control in her life, staring blankly at the peeled wallpaper of her Hab-Block, and battling her mounting insomnia. She hasn't talked to her family in four years. She is rocketing down a path with one possible destination, and it is a grisly and unfortunate one, and she knows it. Her removal to the grand battle severs the complex plexus of criminal debts and responsibilities she has been laboring under, resulting in a degree of freedom she hasn't experienced for half a decade.

let's post righteously & having good times /// check out The Book of the Courtier /// ensure proper vegetable consumption /// also check out The Blade and the Cycle /// post it up!!
(This post was last modified: 06-23-2013, 09:02 AM by Brom.)
06-23-2013, 04:31 AM
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Solaris
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#12
Lonely Rolling Star

Offline
Posts: 2,004
Joined: Jul 2011
Imagine Cucumber




Name: CODENAME: OVERHEAT Civilian Alias: Ash Duncans
Text color: #22ccdd; blue fire is cooler than red fire
Gender: While Ash is a woman, and uses she/her, Ash prefers to attribute the "it" pronoun to OVERHEAT.
Race: If you asked Ash, she'd say "Anime Cyborg"
Weapons/Abilities: The most notable weapon that OVERHEAT has is its sword. The blade uses top of the line magnetism and electricity technology in order to cut through essentially any metal surface, usually leaving black marks around whatever it slashes. It calls it The Scorcher.

However, OVERHEATS main weapon is its own cyborg body. Clocking in at six feet and eight inches, and many many many pounds, OVERHEAT's robot body has all of the enhanced strength that you would expect of a robotic being, along with enhanced speed and dexterity. In addition to the usual cache of cyborg capabilities, it has a special magno-propulsion mechanism that basically enables it to eject its limbs from its body and then easily re-attach them. The body is powered by various solar panel fins attached around the torso, arms, legs, and head. Depending on the placement, the solar panels can move, and many are controlled via a magnetic system tied directly to Ash's mind.

Description: OVERHEAT is, as has been mentioned, a very tall and very heavy humanoid cyborg. Most of it is silver, with some black on the joints (elbows, shins, etc), hands, and feet. The body is very lean and flat, built more for mobility than for strength. Around the black parts of the body are usually the solar panels, which take the shape of fins, giving its otherwise round body some sharp angles. There are also fins on its waist (the right side, opposite of the sheath where The Scorcher is kept), back (just under its shoulders), and head. OVERHEAT's head has a single blue, glowing eye at the center of three visor like fins. There is a fourth fin on the back, it doubles as the handle and lock for the helmet, which is the only part of the OVERHEAT that can easily be removed from Ash.

Under all that armor is a woman with purple dreadlocks and a pretty energetic personality. Ash Duncan likes what she is and (for the most part) what she does. She is trusting and willing to believe that what she does will lead to happiness and justice, even if sometimes it means doing something that is sort of wrong. She doesn't really see much point is moping for too long, and prefers to look on the bright side and maintain an enthusiastic and bubbly attitude, if not for her sake, then to try to raise the spirits of anyone around her. She knows that the world isn't perfect, and that there is a lot of badness out there, but she wants to hope that what she does will benefit the greater good, even if it means that she, or rather, OVERHEAT, has to do something very bad.

Errata:Sometime prior to being entered in the Sublime Showdown, Ash received this e-mail.

Quote:Ash Duncans.
Or, specifically, OVERHEAT.
You have a selection of skills that I require.
In a few days, you will taken on a journey across the multiverse.
During that journey, you will encounter things beyond your wildest dreams.
Your mission, if you choose to accept it, will be to kill someone during this journey.
It should be noted, that even if you do not accept this mission, the journey will still occur.
If you accept the mission then download the program attached to this e-mail.
It will tell you when you are near the target.
You will be paid with whatever you wish.
Have a good trip :-)
06-24-2013, 05:00 AM
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MeltingBard
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#13

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Posts: 12
Joined: Jun 2013
Name: Pismis 24-3
Text color: Smouldering
Gender: Identifies as a she
Race: OB class massive star
Weapons/Abilities: Being a ball of energy almost immeasurable in size, Pismis can release heat in near infinite quantities, emitting 33,000K of it without any effort. She also has great control over it, able to do anything from focus it on a single point in space to emitting an aura of it burning everything in a mile radius.
Pismis is a sentient heavenly body, and thanks to celestial abilities, she usually appears large for the average viewer's perspective (so to the average human, she would be about the size of a full-grown bull) and is bright but not difficult to look at. Of course, if she chooses she can change either of these things, growing huge and brilliant if the situation demands.
Description: Pismis is the fourth child in the Pismis 24 star cluster, the baby of the family. She ranks in as one of the hottest and most powerful stars in the known universe, but can't rank up with her three older siblings. Born on the bottom of the ladder, she is tortured by her eldest twin brothers. And after millennia of being subjected to the sadism of two of the only beings in the world more powerful than she is, it's no wonder that she feels powerless and alone.
Because of this, while she is aware of her awesome power, she isn't quite aware of how powerful everyone else is in comparison. As her entire life has been spent in the twisted grip of her brothers, she is instantly defeatist and submissive towards any other being. She desperately wants to have power though, and if she is put into a position of power she'll abuse it as much as possible and hold onto it for dear life. If she becomes aware of the sort of destruction she's truly capable of, she could be a nearly unstoppable force...but she can't quite realize that all-powerful potential.
Errata: Wikipedia page from which I blatantly used astronomic information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pismis_24#Pismis_24
06-25-2013, 05:32 AM
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Elize
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#14
Probably not a zombie alchemist

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Posts: 57
Joined: Jan 2013
Yeehaw, USA
I'm quite pleased with the turnout so far! Only three more days until signups are closed. I think, much like the first battle, I will be giving priority to people with nothing else to post in. I'll also try not to have too much of a repeat of the last battle's roster.

It's also worth noting that S?1 already needs a replacement. If you can't even wait three days, it might be worth shooting your profiles over to Schazer to see if you can pop in the empty slot there right now.
06-25-2013, 05:52 AM
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AgentBlue
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#15
that escalated quickly

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Posts: 4,326
Joined: Jul 2011
Sunshine, Lollipops and Diabetes
Username: Agenshiny
Name: Glitter
Gender: None
Race: Psilocybe protervi
Colour: #ED7777
Description: A diffuse cloud of glittering pink spores, barely holding itself together by some unseen force. Little sparkles flitter and coruscate across and in it like a champagne glass floating in the ocean at sunrise. It is a stunning sight for one so deadly. It doesn’t speak, not until it’s in your head, and by then it’s too late. It’s awfully friendly, and naïve, and has a voice like a bubbly laugh; it still doesn’t quite understand what it’s been doing to people since day one.

Items/Abilities: There exists on planet Earth an organism known as the lichen. Of course, things are never as simple as they seem; the humble lichen, seen growing on rocks and in cracks between bricks, is not a single organism at all. A lichen is in fact a symbiotic peace treaty between the Kingdom of Fungi and the Coalition of Photosynthesizing Protists - itself a complicated political entity; needless to say some extremely populous families of a rather high class maintain order in the scheme of things.

But that actually hasn't anything to do with the Glitter at all. No scientific organism worth their ATP would have anything to do with the Glitter if they could help it, and for very good reason: The Glitter is not a symbiote. It is a parasite.

Which again, isn't strictly true, either. We told you nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

The Glitter in its full state with its host is a similar symbiote, but it is normally found in a raw state in the wild: a glittering cloud of spores, a mycological biohazard blown about on the wind. Much in the same way the mycobiont draws light-spun energy from its photobiont partner, the Glitter, with its roots in hallucinogenic fungi, consumes minds.

This isn't always fatal, it insists. Not a parasitic relationship at all. It quite resents the idea.

In fact, colonization by the Glitter has unique neurological benefits for the host, the primary one being the slow but complete eradication of hesitance, inhibition, and eventually, sanity. Such complicating and ludicrous things, it surmises, is much better replaced with the golden fuel of ambition, confidence and optimism, which is quite the vim to get things done.

Unfortunately the hosts never seem to last very long.

Biography: I woke up this morning, and I could do anything. I knew I could do anything.

I stood up to my boss this morning. He wasn’t expecting me to call him out on his bullying but I did, I called him out all right, the old boy nearly had a heart attack from the way I lay into him. Got a promotion. I think I got promoted. Either that or fired. Either way I’m better off without his fat face. I’d like to punch it in. Twice. Maybe three times, until that fleshy nose of his bleeds all over his expensive suit. That’s a good idea. I think I’ll waltz right back in there and knock him off his leather chair.

Did it. This is a pretty sturdy cell. Bars are thick but rattley. I think I’ll rattle them. Ha. That’ll show them. I’m hungry now though. Jailer’s at the door. “You poor sod,” he says, “They say there’s no hope.” He walks away. He didn’t even bring any food.

If I put together enough money i could be president. i could be president of the world. i could rob a bank or make a scheme to get the money. this is a good idea. gonna do it. gonna get out of here. bars don’t come loose no matter how much i shake them. the jailer came by and broke my fingers. no one cares. i think my fingers are okay. i can move them.

i am still hungry. i wonder how my arm tastes.


[EXHIBIT 0001a - “scrap of paper, patient zero, JOTT outbreak id:jma_0001a”]
06-27-2013, 04:18 PM
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Elize
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#16
Probably not a zombie alchemist

Offline
Posts: 57
Joined: Jan 2013
Yeehaw, USA
Just popping in to note that the deadline would be midnight tonight my time, which means 7:00 PM GMT. If you really needed those extra five hours to get a profile together, let me know. Barring any such objections, the roster will go up then and the game itself will begin shortly thereafter.
06-28-2013, 06:25 PM
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Elize
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Signups Open until 6/28!)
#17
Probably not a zombie alchemist

Offline
Posts: 57
Joined: Jan 2013
Yeehaw, USA
You would be hard-pressed to find a stranger crowd of beings occupying a single bar.

In the dim lights over the assorted tables of varying shapes and sizes, some of which were incomprehensible to mortal minds, there assembled a murmuring crowd. Some of them glowed with mysterious energies of variable hue. Some of them were shrouded in darkness so complete that it would be noticeable even at the bottom of the deepest cave at midnight. Others still had nothing unusual whatsoever going on with their luminance, but rest assured they were just as strange in other ways. Being a bar in the space between worlds, this place was occupied solely by interdimensional travelers, and tonight they were here for Darling's show.

The walls of bottles and tapestries containing this strange menagerie extended up into a stygian emptiness in which something stirred. Unseen hands lurched purposefully from a hidden catwalk behind the curtain in front of the stage and grasped several tiny wires. Smooth jazz began to play. Smoke machines at the back of the stage quietly clicked on, filling the space behind the curtain with a dense cloud.

The woman behind the curtain had been standing very still for a very long time. She wore something slinky and black, matching the long, curly hair that cascaded down her back. Bright red lips brought color to a frame of immaculately carved, bleached, and polished bone. The hooks connecting each delicate hinge to the tiny wires extending up into the darkness were cleverly concealed. The hands above took hold of these wires and began to sort them out. Darling clattered and shook with her first motion since the last show.

The curtains drew back. The murmuring from the crowd grew silent. Smoke billowed through the opening, and a player piano slid onto the stage along a hidden track in the floor. The jazz grew a bit louder as Darling wiggled her way through the surging smoke to cheers and catcalls. She brought her wooden cigarette up to her mouth, and the tiny orange bulb on the end faded in and out.

Looking at this perfect little ivory marionette leaning seductively against the back of the piano, you would expect her voice to be melodious and sultry. It would seem expectation proves more important than reality, because the assemblage of beings did not seem to mind the noise that bellowed forth from Darling's puppetmaster. "Good evening, all my lovely guests," it uttered in a voice best described as a guttral, synthetic croak. "My name is Darling, and I've got a very special show for you tonight."

Backstage, six stagehands presided over six paralyzed contestants inside wheeled glass jars connected by ropes. Some fretted over their contestants' presentations, others relaxed with an air of easy confidence. One listened attentively at the door as Darling went through her opening bit to the crowd. Warming up the crowd, opening preamble, explanation of the rules...introducing the contestants! Right on cue, the first stagehand pulled the rope that would roll the lineup out onstage.

The crowd cheered as the six glass jars rolled neatly into place. Darling walked over to the leftmost jar and rapped her knuckles against the transparent barrier. The bearded man inside was unable to move in response. That is, except for his eyes. He had been propped up behind the facade of a bar, his hands frozen into place polishing a tankard. "Our first lucky contestant is called Barkeep. Where he comes from, that means he is a prime dispensary of the rumors of the land, and he can only be harmed by damaging whatever he considers his bar. Not at all like the fine folks we have keeping you in your drinks here, who can only be harmed by poor tippers."

The crowd chuckled as Darling moved to the next jar, containing a cyan-clad bald man with a dark complexion, frozen in place in the middle of a ferocious sword swing. Coiled around his shoulder and equally paralyzed was a snake whose eyes glowed with a bright yellow light. "These two here are Clombd and Snake. Clombd is a magic man with a magic sword and a magic snake pet. The fun part is that the part of his body that makes the magic doesn't work too well, so we'll get to see whether it's more fatal to the other five or to him!"

Darling sidled over to the third jar, which contained a begoggled cyborg punk girl decked out in green. She had been posed making a rude gesture with her hands while skating over a dirty chunk of asphalt. "This rowdy little firebrand is Dahlia Belstrap," Darling explained. "She's spent her life working for bad people on the bad streets, so frankly, this contest won't be much of a change for her. She's mean, green, part machine, and, oh, right, has a laser-powered rocket launcher on her shoulder. It doesn't rhyme, but I thought you should know."

The fourth jar contained a vicious-looking demon. He was frozen while rocking out with a guitar mid-powerchord, with stylized flames painted on the jar all around him. "You'd expect this heavy metal demon to be called Bloodrage or Bezelebrawn or something, but no, his name is Humbert. Humbert Kinnaird is a rockstar with a curse. The curse makes him look like this when he performs, but gives him a weakness to music he can't rock to. We'll see whether this contest is his masterpiece or his final tour!"

Darling gestured to the fifth jar, containing a stone statue of an angel. Her wings were spread out wide as she knelt in prayer over a stop sign, with the glass jar painted like a stained glass window behind her. "Meet Mariel. Somehow I don't expect her and the last one to get along too well, even though they're both made out of rock." She paused, briefly, for laughs. "What is there to say? She is pretty sure she's an instrument of some god or another, and has a lot of copies of his holy books stashed away in there. You might not think she's much to look at, but where she comes from, she stops traffic."

Moving to the final jar, Darling gestured to the green-feathered winged humanoid frozen inside, posed in a menacing snarl above a foam facsimile of a soulless corpse. "And finally, we have Ikhinde," she croaked, pronouncing it "Ik-hend". "This form you see here is just the shell she's currently wearing; you see, Ikhinde is a body-swapping apparition that can move soul and flesh alike. Of course, she's got to keep hers intact to use the ability, and the other five are sure to make that difficult for her."

Darling moved upstage as projector screens lowered over the backdrop. "So, I suspect these six poor saps are wondering what they're doing here, huh?" Gears turned noisily, and the six jars and their contents rotated the other way to face the screen. "Well, you lucky lot are all going on a trip around the multiverse, all expenses paid. What's more, you're all going to be stars of your own reality show while you're there. You'll go to up to five exciting locations, and at the end, one of you wins a prize and a trip home. The rest of you will be dead or double-dead, as the case may be. That's right folks, the only thing I ask in return for this exciting opportunity is that you kill one another. Each time someone dies, the rest of you get swept up into a new location, until there's only one of you left. Let's see where you're going first."

Somewhere, a projector began to whir. The screen lit up with an image of a dusk sky. Stars twinkled in decidedly non-star-like colors, the moon was much too large in the sky, and the ground was covered with a mixed forest of trees and giant mushrooms occasionally interrupted by strange and magnificent structures. "Neverland. The Between. The Twilight Forest. Faerie. This place and the folk who live here have had many names and stories told about them over the years. Some of those stories were accurate, and some weren't. If the story had a happy ending, it was probably the latter. One of you is about to find that out firsthand. One more thing, if you plan on waiting around for sunset or sunrise, I suspect you'll be waiting for quite a while. The less I say about it, the better, so without further ado, let's get this show on the road!"

The six jars emptied in the blink of an eye. The image on the screen split into six different images showing different locations, and a contestant suddenly appeared in each.
(This post was last modified: 09-17-2013, 06:30 PM by Elize.)
06-29-2013, 04:19 PM
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!?
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#18
Some Random Account

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Posts: 16
Joined: Jun 2013
A dark blade completed its arc with considerably less momentum. A Lesser Ouroboros slid down to its favored position about the waist, biting its tail and allowing its eyes to dim. Cliff was breathing heavily, unsure what he was or even should have been feeling at the moment. Placing his blade back into its scabbard, Cliff took a few steps and leaned against a nearby tree to observe the area and think.

Looking up was agitating: though the overlarge satellite—no more than a glowing orb, too perfect to be the pockmarked, gazing moon of his homeland—was high, and the even grid of stars, organized by color and brightness in patters, rested upon pure black, there was a sense of apprehension and impatience, as though sky were choking on itself, attempting to regurgitate the sun.

The ground was no better a sight, though in closing his eyes Cliff knew he’d still feel the writhing of all sorts of insects and what-have-you amidst the crunch of dead leaves, so he focused his vision low. Some small creatures took experimental bites of his hand, which was resting on the forest floor, and he dug the heel of his palm into the dirt to crush a few of them before lifting it to his face. Obviously, no wounds were presently visible, but he knew as well as anyone that disease cannot be seen by the human eye.

Having calmed down to a degree, Cliff reached out to Snake mentally.

That… thing… called me Clombd.

That thing called me your pet.

Touché.

In other news?


Well, it looks like we’ve got another quest, but this time we’re paying for it.

By my understanding, it’s more of a vacation, though the price is murder and vandalism. But it sounds to me like we can take our time with it.

Vandalism?

I couldn’t understand quite well, but it seems one of our opponents can only be harmed by vandalism. The barkeep.

Right, yeah… that takes a lot of magic. We should watch out for him. And that one girl… the one making the Giridian greeting? She has… could you hear what that thing said?

A… like a siege engine, but smaller. It throws metal which sets on fire. Quite dangerous. Definitely not something I’ve seen from a Giridian. We’ll need to know more about the both of them. In the meantime, you need to tend to that hand.


Cliff looked at his bitten hand and agreed: his palm was swelling and reddening, seeming to twist inward in certain areas. Slowly, vortexes were forming in his hand, turning… turning……

Cliff shook his head and trained his eyes off of his hand. The wound still seemed minor, and he wouldn’t need much magic to heal it. It was affordable.

Telling Snake to stand guard, Cliff closed his eyes and focused intently on the area. It wasn’t long before he felt his skin shifting and liquid dripping from his pores, but by the end he was aching exhausted. Teeth clenched, eyes closed, he gradually began to relax, until he was sitting against the tree, knees folded, arms crossed, accompanied only by the sounds of his own heavy breathing and Snake’s slithering in a wide ring about his tree.

Well, we better be going
, Snake reminded Cliff, wouldn’t want to stay in one place too long in a vacation to the death.

Indeed. A vacation to the death in a land of stories
, Cliff smiled, standing up tentatively, and the two began walking in a random direction through the unfamiliar woods, not knowing in the slightest their destination.


Spoiler :
Snake's color is 0000FF

Spoiler :
Grand Battles

The $300,000 Fight-A-Thon: Cockfighter Brawlmite
Sublime Showdown: Cliff and Snake

***

OCs

Contest 3--Sirens: Shif Ava Serefa
Contest 4--Command: The Serene
Contest 9--Weeks 1-8: Reyna Ale
Contest 23--Angle: Thelst
Contest 24--Swag: Dere
(This post was last modified: 10-21-2013, 02:10 AM by !?.)
06-30-2013, 01:21 AM
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Gatr
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#19
it's gatr!

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Posts: 2,602
Joined: Nov 2011
His eyes were flitting back and forth rapidly.

One moment, he was polishing an already-clean tankard with his trusted grimy handkerchief, the next, his body was frozen, and a bizarre sight was presented to him. Bizarre, yet glorious. Everything was different, the people, the architecture, hell, even the drinks. But it was undeniably a bar. He tried to take in as much of the place as possible. His head buzzed with information, that he could not quite make sense of.
  • That counter was made from the finest Plexispaceglass available in the Nautilus Termini system, discovered accidentally by Prosytterian ore miners in 54 (=- 4/3) rotations of Martonia.
  • This drink was made from the distilled venom of the Ambrosianewt, normally considered to be toxic unless mixed with Etherstrawberry Juice.
  • And those tentacled people over there were actually pirates from the farthest reaches of the Oblivion Nebula.

He had wanted to investigate more, but a guttural voice referred specifically to him, and it was only then that he realized what was going on. He had been taken to a battle to the death.

He continued to watch and absorb information, but now knew that this was not his final destination. Now disinterested, he started listening to Darling drone on about the rules and the other contestants. He had tried to glean information from them, but it seems they were still a blank slate to him. That meant they were like protagonists. This was unsettling. Fortunately, this being a battle to the death, they were not immune to death. He would be able to take care of them if they ever threatened his bar. Once he built it, of course.

Then, just as he thought he would, he was spirited away to the Realm of the Fey Folk. Now allowed to move again, he gingerly set his tankard down. Just then, he felt an odd bond to it. It was calling out to him, asking him not to let go of it. But it was too late. He had already set it down, and the bond was broken. He tried to pay it no mind, as he pocketed his handkerchief and looked around. Neverland was indeed a beautiful place. It was quite eerie, though, especially as he took a closer look.
  • These mushrooms were made artificially huge using a magical fertilizer made from the bones of the dwarves killed in the Great Sparkle Mountain Battle in 476.
  • These birds, although handsome, have been known to be violently territorial and invasive. Attempting to remove them led to the extinction of the brownies.
  • That tree was actually a notorious nymph sex dungeon, made famous for that thing they did where they would-

That's enough of that. He moved the information absorption to his subconscious, and he shifted focus to making actual plans.

Now then, what to do? He would definitely need to either find a bar and somehow claim it, or make a bar from scratch. Until then, if the unwillingness to let go of the tankard was any indication, the lone tankard would have to count as his "bar". He picked it up and felt a sort of relief. He supposed it would be a good idea to find a drink of some sort to fill it with. And so, he strode off in search of the nearest village.

---

Blue spires towered into the skies, cutting the moon into pieces. They glowed with a pleasing iridescent light. These were the famous landmarks of Wisteria, a relatively large elven city of around 500 people (considered to be a metropolis in these parts, he noted). As he approached it, he noticed his ears starting to narrow to a point, and his beard starting to disappear. He knew he would miss his beard, but he did feel more at ease. This would have to do.

[Image: 6xGo4ab.png][Image: sig.gif]
06-30-2013, 02:32 AM
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Brom
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#20
HE IS DEAD. . . .

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Posts: 88
Joined: Mar 2013
. . . .BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
You are utterly expendable, Trang told her. You are the most miraculously renewable of resources on this beautiful blue planet. Any two goddamn bums I find off the street can squeeze me out a human being, no training needed. They just gotta do what comes natural. Now that equipment you are slinging is engineering genius, top of the line. Goddamn motherfucking rocket scientists with fucking degrees spent their entire lives designing and perfecting it. They took humanity and they pulled down their sciency lab pants and peed in the face of God. What did your parents do? Break a condom? Pardon me, while I hold my applause. Your bionic pinky's existence is ten times more marvelous and incredible than yours, and is worth inestimably more to us than you are.

So if you want to leave, you can leave, but if you leave, we're going to want everything we gave you back.


Strap's fingers wilted out of the double-Giridian-salute as her desperately firing synapses regained control over her body. She hit the ground with a heavy clank and immediately started rolling. Her skates whirred cheerfully as she helplessly skidded down the narrow archway of stone she had been deposited on.

With an unladylike squawk she crouched down and dragged her synthetic hand across the rock to keep from falling on her face. The arch dipped sharply to a near-vertical halt in the grass below. The drop looked near fourty feet.

Strap fumbled with the catch on her back and dropped the full weight of her Ventcore reassuringly onto one shoulder. She mashed the primary transformer and the barrel dutifully clacked a foot back and into Exhaust mode.

Right as Dahlia went over the drop.

“SONOVABITCH,” she asserted, spinning the Core around as she skidded toward the ground. Her finger, nail half-painted, closed around its trigger.

The ventcore frogblasted, boosting her bodily up into the air inches before she hit the ground. She did a clumsy forward somersault and ended up like she usually did when she tried a vertical blast: in the grass on her ass waiting for the pain to pass.

That was shitty, was her first thought.
This is not Chi-town, was her second.

Her hand immediately snapped to the bomb on her neck. More than fifty miles outside city limits was the tether, and Trang said if you broke the tether they give you a little off the top.

It wasn't tingling. No vibrations. No beeping noise.
She experimentally splayed her fingers out on the grass. Her bionics were all set, operating at full. No shutoffs.

Her green-gloss lips pulled up into a smile. Holy shit. Was she free?

Strap sprang to her feet and retrieved the Ventcore from the grass. Her elation wasn't tempered when she realized that she had just skated off a giant ribcage, sunk into the ground. The skeleton stretched its petrified way across a near mile, lying pale and dessicated on the mountainside she found herself on.
Rolling out before her was Faerie.

From up here, Strap couldn't see the bloatbeetles crawling along the ground, the Brownies in the alien trees, the Kraken in the impossibly blue lake, the Adar Rhiannon bobbing through the grasslands with their charmed corpses and sleepwalkers in tow, or the flashing blades of the Wild Hunt thundering through the forests. She couldn't see Berchtold, its white-cloaked leader, or Surma, the Violent Death personified, or the roiling Gap of Goblin. What she could see was freedom, and it looked awesome.

This was a friggin' fairy tale, and she was the prettiest princess at the ball.

There was a town down in the valley, all blue spikes and flashy lights. If she was gonna find all the other contestants in this freakshow, that was the place to look.

See, she'd already figured out how you game this system. No one moved on till one of them died. If they all just got along and no one killed anyone, they could just stay in cool fairy world forever. Okay, so maybe she wouldn't visit the cheese planet or whatever any time soon, but this was as good a place as any for a new start. She had an inactive bomb on her spine, some frictionless skates on her feet, and 20 pounds of blasting, vaporizing freedom on her shoulder.

Maybe on her way down the mountain she'd doublespin clutch off the big dead guy's skull. Just because I can, she thought for the first time in years. She lowered her goggles, angled the Ventcore, braced her knees, and squeezed that beautiful little trigger.

Things were finally looking up.

let's post righteously & having good times /// check out The Book of the Courtier /// ensure proper vegetable consumption /// also check out The Blade and the Cycle /// post it up!!
06-30-2013, 03:20 AM
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Flummox
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#21

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Posts: 8
Joined: Dec 2011
The forest was blacker than any she had ever seen, and the trees grew taller than any she had ever seen. They grew uncomfortably close and seemed to be getting closer by the second. Mariel could barely see. She tripped on a root. How could she be expected to fight a battle to the death if she couldn’t get out of this bloody forest? Attempts to cut away shrubs came to miserable failure. A stop sign is not a machete.

“You’re silly.” A voice, high and shrill, came from above her. Mariel bristled.

“Come down from there, child.”

The visitor giggled. “I bet I’m older than you.”

“You will fall and hurt yourself.” Mariel looked up, but didn’t see anyone.

“Nuh uh. I never fall. How old are you?”

“I was created by the Lord Almighty, in the time before Adam and in the time before He gave life to all the creatures of the earth.” She still didn’t see anyone.

“You are silly.” She giggled and some leaves rustled above Mariel’s head. The child suddenly appeared in front of her, slim with pointed features and oddly-colored skin. She appeared to be wearing clothing made of leaves. “I’m Caspia. And I’m twelve thousand years old.” She studied Mariel’s face intently.

“Show me the way out of this forest, child.”

“I’m not a child! I’m Caspia!”

“Show me the way then, Caspia.” Mariel shouldered her stop sign.

Caspia disappeared into the undergrowth. When Mariel did not follow, she stuck her head out and giggled. “Aren’t you coming, silly?”

It was a long time coming out of that forest, with Mariel making slow progress, struggling to keep the bushes back and walk at the same time. Occasionally Caspia would disappear up a tree, and Mariel would have no choice but to wait for her to remember that Mariel was incapable of climbing trees. When they did break out of the forest, however, the view was breathtaking (although Mariel didn’t have any breath to take). A cliff dropped away suddenly to reveal the city. Although the light coming off it was blinding, she could barely make out immense spiral towers and busy black specks swarming around them. It was nighttime, but that only served to make the city even more blinding by juxtaposition. Her eyes barely adjusted in time to watch Caspia disappear over the cliff face. Mariel sighed and made to sit down, but Caspia’s face reappeared moments later, grinning.

“Just kidding,” she said, giggling.

They went down a ramp carved into the side of the mountain, which Caspia explained was for trade caravans, too big and clumsy to go down the cliff. “Just like you,” she had said with a grin.

At the foot of the cliff, the light of the city was once again blocked out by heavy tree cover. This time, however, there was a broad dirt path that wound through the forest, serpentine and lazy. Huge stone carvings guarded the road, grotesques and gargoyles worn by age and moss and bearing an uncomfortable resemblance to herself, minus the holy beauty and bird shit. They were obviously not intelligently designed.

The entrance to the city was marked by an enormous archway made from two trees bent together, their branches entwined where they met to form the top of the arch. There seemed to be no guards and no way to keep out unwanted guests.

The inside of the city was considerably darker than Mariel had expected. The dim wooden streetlamps were the only light source. An old hunchback pulling a wagon gave her a mistrustful four-eyed glare and hurried on his way, but elsewise they seemed to be alone. The buildings were brick and stone, run-down and covered in long sheets of ivy. Most were only one story. There were no spiral towers in sight, either.

When she asked Caspia about it, all she did was giggle and say “You’re silly.”

Frantic circus music filled the street. Someone capered madly down the street, doing cartwheels and staggering about drunkenly. When he saw them, he made a mocking little bow, and suddenly Mariel found his face inches from her own. He had no eyelids and his grin seemed much too huge for his tiny and unsettlingly evenly-sized teeth.

“Good evening,” he said. Mariel stumbled backwards and readied her stop sign for a swing. “Truly sorry if I have offended m’lady,” he said, tipping his hat. Underneath was a miniature orchestra, growing from his scalp. As she watched, the pianist made a little flourish with his hands. They bowed, and there was frenzied applause. The man cupped his hands together and opened them to reveal a tiny audience, their hands ablur.

Mariel lowered the stop sign. “I have no stomach for your magician’s tricks,” she said, even though her innards were not quite existent.

“Truly sorry,” said the man, settling his hat back onto his head and putting his hands in his pockets. His grin did not fade. “Where will m’lady go from here?”

“Wherever my Lord bids me,” she said.

“Your lord?” Caspia giggled. “Are you a slave?”

“No. A servant.” She felt sick. “Show me to the nearest church. I must pray.”

“Pray? What’s that?” Caspia turned to the man. “Mad Ergot, what’s a pray?”

“A prey, m’dear,” said Mad Ergot, “is the victim of a predator.”

Caspia giggled. “Not that kind of pray, silly.”

“When I pray, I pay homage to my God,” said Mariel.

Mad Ergot burst into laughter, slapping his knees and gnashing his teeth. Caspia giggled.

Mariel fumed. “What’s so funny?”

“You really are silly,” said Caspia.

Mad Ergot returned to his full composure as suddenly as he had lost it. “What dear Caspia is trying to say, m’lady, is that you have much to learn.”

“What? What do I have to learn?”

Mad Ergot paused. “I’m afraid there’s no putting it gently. Your gods have no use here in Faerie. There’s no two ways about it. We are our own gods here.”

“Heresy,” said Mariel. Caspia giggled.

Mad Ergot reached a hand towards her. What he meant to do was never clear. Mariel swung the stop sign and the head caught him in the wrist, biting deep into the flesh. She could feel bones cracking. Caspia’s giggles turned to screams as Mad Ergot jerked back.

“Iron,” he gasped. “You brought your cold iron into Faerie.” The flesh around the wound sizzled. Mad Ergot dropped to his knees. He had the look of someone who has just realized his own mortality for the first time. His hand fell off, blackening and shriveling. “You’ve killed me.”

Caspia turned and ran, giving Mariel one last look of fear and hate. Mariel could not look away from Mad Ergot, where he began to crawl away, into the shadows. “Iron,” he said. “Cold iron…”

I will show them the light, Mariel swore to herself. God willing, I will show them the light. Pray that I will succeed as Jonah did.
06-30-2013, 07:17 AM
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!?
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#22
Some Random Account

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Every star in the sky is a deity, sheltered by their merciful ruler, the moon. The sun is the devil-god which rises in the morning to rudely sweep it’s brethren from the heavenly sphere…

…the Mother Serpent sleeps in the pit of a hollow mountain, wrapped and knotted about herself in patterns mere mortals cannot comprehend, her mighty scales triumphantly blanketed in the down of the birds which she preys upon…

…there is only one God, and in seven days He made the world. He created the first man, the first woman, and on the seventh day He rested…

…if you go east to the city of Otavorsegan and best the Heretic King With Three Heads in single combat, he will grant you his Tearstone, which can be used to hold the Coveted Darkness. A strong +15 armor and long-range combat capabilities are recommended for this quest…


The Heart of Faerie pulsed and shook with excitement, the warm red light she emanated growing in brilliance and intensity. Seven new minds, bursting with unknown mythos, appearing in her great land, just as the worlds she relied upon to create were fading from her reach—it was perfection. She would find these Travelers. She would seek them out, take their minds, take their souls; reach through them and drag their worlds closer to her. Faerie would explode with the infinite possibilities their new thoughts would bring. Faerie would be immortal.

***

Cliff and Snake had been walking for quite some time under the unnervingly uniform stars when they reached the city. Still discussing the nature of their competitors, they were both relieved when the claustrophobia of trees which seemed to move inward and the overlarge spiders which had thrice jumped out at them and the cooing, illusory voices which fell from the branches receded and gave way to azure spires and crowded cobblestone walks.

The noise of street performers and vendors was disorienting, and the faces of passersby more so, but Cliff suspected that in his armor he would blend right into the blue-tinted crepuscule. Naturally the moment he attempted to slip into the crowd unnoticed, Snake’s eyes began to burn with a light that Cliff had never seen before. The color was off as well, now a tarnished golden-brown rather than the usual citrine. Cliff tried to keep moving through the crowd as though that was a normal occurrence.

Oddly enough, it worked. As he kept his pace steady and his wits about him, nobody thought twice about it, leaving the two Familiars to walk and talk in peace.

No, I don’t know what’s happening. But I have an idea.

Well?

It’s as if… the magic just feels different. It’s not the same magic we know.

I feel like I know what you mean.

Do you?

Well, everything here is different. These people… they’re all angles and pointed edges, like the Numeds, but they’re all marked. Like… remember the man in Neo-Ras who covered himself in paint to mock my people?

I do, but Amna is long gone here. And they don’t appear to be mocking anyone.

Exactly. The people, the buildings, everything here is different. It might not be farfetched to say that the magic here is different as well.

There are gaps in your logic, my friend, but it’s the only explanation we have for now. In the meantime, let’s focus on finding our opponents.

And with that, the subject of their discussion shifted back to the nature of their competitors. They spent several minutes walking aimlessly and wondering who to find first until they Cliff felt a tapping on his shoulder. He turned, quickly, to find himself facing an androgynous, humanoid figure made entirely of wood and other plant-matter, it’s face no more than a fiery light showing through gaps in a cage of knotted vines. Taking stock of his surroundings, Cliff noted that the area he was in was considerably less crowded than the street he’d arrived on.

Attempting to meet the being’s eerie gaze, Cliff inquired as to its intentions.


“You are not of this world. The Heart of Faerie wishes to study you in greater detail.”

Spoiler :
Heart of Faerie's color is #FFA500

Spoiler :
Grand Battles

The $300,000 Fight-A-Thon: Cockfighter Brawlmite
Sublime Showdown: Cliff and Snake

***

OCs

Contest 3--Sirens: Shif Ava Serefa
Contest 4--Command: The Serene
Contest 9--Weeks 1-8: Reyna Ale
Contest 23--Angle: Thelst
Contest 24--Swag: Dere
(This post was last modified: 11-13-2013, 09:25 PM by !?.)
06-30-2013, 04:34 PM
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bigro
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#23
Please explain

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I have the power of god
Deep beneath a mountain lay a grand hall lined with gold, lit only by candles and a fountain of molten rock. Slowly spewing it’s contents into a domed basin. The hall was empty, silent even, not a soul to be found. This is how the grand hall is most of the year.

But not today. Two lines of dwarves enter the hall from both ends, clanking armour and heavy footsteps that only a dwarf can muster. Upon reaching the centre where the fountain is they turn inwards, some partially tripping over their own feet from this manoeuvre. Continuing the inwards spiral around the fountain six times, until they come to rest in a circle around it. Standing in utter silence for what seems an eternity, one Dwarf lets out with a bellowing yell. “TOOOOOOODAY WE ARE GATHERED, the highest ranking officials of the Dwarven people. TO DISCUSS, the strategies WE WILL be using in the next conflict with the lesser beings.”
The rest of the gathering grunt in a knowing approval.
“WEEEEE SHALL BEGIN, with the traditional chant. TO WARD AWAY EVIL SPIRITS THAT MAY LURK.” The leading dwarf states as every second dwarf lets out a droning and low pitched 'ooooo’.

The rest of the dwarves begin to chant in an even lower tone to the droning for several minutes. The leading dwarf shouts “Evil spirits from the lower worlds, begone!” In an ancient language.

The ritual complete, one of the dwarves dons a panic stricken look. “Jonas, what is the issue? You look like you have just seen the devi-” The leader asks of him before being cut off by a large red horn being driven through his head into his lower back, leaving no blood. The the horn was so hot it cauterised the dwarves entire body on contact.
“Fools, your chant can not dispel the power of ROCK!” The towering demon, Humbert himself, said down at the stunned circle of dwarves. Removing his elbow from the leader, bringing its spine with it grating along the seared dwarves insides, cutting them as to spill the uncooked blood inside into the cavity left behind. Humbert folds the spine into a pick, snapping tendons and cracking bone. Putting his left hoof forward, Humbert with his demonic guitar strums across the entire line of strings.
“For you dolts, I will play you a melody” he calmly sings in a soothing tone. Several of the dwarves freeze in pure shock.

Humbert lets out a blood curdling scream and begins playing the guitar so quickly that his hands were a blur, no small feat given the size of them. Flames erupt from his body quickly scorching the two dwarves that were near to the leader. The others panic, and attempt to flee.

Ceasing the scream, it is time to begin the first verse. Kneeling on the centre fountain Humbert splits it perfectly in two sending the halves careening towards the doors at either end. Impacting they explode into molten steel and seal the doors. Humbert plays slower and quieter so the dwarves may hear his performance.

“- Now listen here you little shits, you're really getting on my tits -
- first you chant and then you flee, it's like you don't want to play with me -
- No use to try, no use to try, Call for help and you'll all die -
- No use to try, no use to try, When I play my song the end is nigh -”

Humbert, ending his first and apparently only verse jumps from his kneeling position into a power stance sending shock waves throughout the hall. Looking to the roof and letting out a scream once more the flames that were once restricted to his immediate area spread throughout the entire hall. The panicked dwarves struggling with the sealed doors are roasted alive.

The demonic flames first only targeting their bones, making them crack in their own bodies and roast the attached muscles. Then targeting the rest of the bodies their clothes are burned away immediately. As they cook, Humbert plays power chords and they float into the air. Their flesh deteriorates as the song progresses, the dwarves look to each other and simply sob, their tears unaffected by the flames that now completely fill the hall. The flames strip them till they are nothing but bones. Humbert ceases his awful screech at this point and stomps once with his right hoof, making all the bones crush into a ball in front of him.

Without an audience, the staggeringly huge demon realises that it just ain't rock no more. “I am done here” He says and the flames go out. Falling forward into the slanted roof Humbert smacks his head on a supporting frame and smashes his bovine skull to smithereens, shards of it vanishing before they reach the floor. A purple light emanates from the cracks in the skull and he reverts to his human form, on the floor in a heap.

“Oh for fucks sake not a-fucking-gain.” Humbert exclaims while raising his weary head. Spotting the damage he had wrought the unamused man simply sighs. The once golden decorations transmuted to copper, the perfect sphere of bone, the slowly growing pool of lava in the middle of the hall. It could only mean that it had happened again.

Almost on cue, the sealed doors burst open and armed dwarves pour in and are simply stunned that this old man could wreak such carnage.
Without a word, the guards pounce on Humbert and bound him up, taking him somewhere. Humbert didn't know where they would take him, but sure as shit they'd be taking him there.

[Image: 933hfLL.png][Image: aCQpT7Z.png][Image: iRoHjKM.png]
07-07-2013, 03:17 PM
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Gatr
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#24
it's gatr!

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Joined: Nov 2011
gonna slap a reserve down here, nopad's had plenty of time already

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07-09-2013, 04:01 PM
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Nopad
 RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
#25
Eternally Damned

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Posts: 517
Joined: Aug 2012
Spoiler :
whoops sorry i went on vacation right before i would have seen the meesage that this had started and i only just got back

i'll go ahead and go after garu
07-10-2013, 05:53 AM
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