So we do this thing called Grand Battles in a subforum here and, well.

Okay. We technically still do Grand Battles. They aren't, um, they aren't the most active roleplays in town.

Given the way so many battles have fizzled out it hasn't escaped our notice that people really seem to like to join Grand Battles. That is, they really like coming up with character concepts, writing it up in a handy-dandy character sheet and submitting them for judgment before a figure of authority (the "host", here symbolized by me). It's just, a lot of people tend to bow out during the part after that where you write for their characters.

So, panderers as we are, we figured we'd give the people what they wanted and create the world's first Grand Battle Character Entry Simulation Game. The rules are simple! The host decides on a theme for the contest. Anyone who wishes to enter a character simply fills out the standard Grand Battle character sheet.

Username: Submitted for posterity.
Name: The character's, not yours.
Species: Or "race" if that's more applicable.
Gender: Or "sex" if that's more applicable.
Color: See, in Grand Battles, every character is set off by a different text color. Since we won't be doing that, pick a color that you think looks nice or that represents your character or just your character's favorite color. It's all good.

None of this should take you long. Here are the big three:

Description: This can be purely physical or a look into your character's mindset. I'm calling a rule that you can't have a visual aid--if you have any art of your character you'd like to show, post it after the deadline passes.

Weapons/Abilities: Grand Battles usually involve at least some measure of fighting. In any case, everyone has special talents!

Biography: What was your character up to before they weren't abducted into a Grand Battle?

This is a lot of ground to cover, and there's a temptation to just throw out everything you have and see what sticks. No dice, pal! I'm establishing a one thousand word limit on profile submissions. So no writing a whole novel as backstory so your character feels like an old friend by the time we get done. Old friends are cheating!

One more thing: we're not going to wait around forever for you to write these things! You can manage in a week. So for this first contest, you're gonna have to submit your profile by midnight EST on the night of Tuesday the 24-- oh okay, probably not Christmas.

This one can be two weeks. Submit your profile before the ball drops on New Year's Eve in Times Square. You have the whole rest of the year! And if you don't make it, we'll host another one of these in a jiffy.

But wait! You might be asking. This isn't the same thing as entering a Grand Battle? Where's the reward structure? Where's knowing that I'm one of the best eight guys out of every guy who ever guyed! (or girl who girled a--whatever).

There's a reward structure! Entering a profile makes you eligible for any one of eight awards--if you get an award, think of yourself as entered in a Grand Battle, kinda. The awards are as follows:

The Best Of Show Award: Okay, while this is technically the Best of Show award, it's really the "best one that wasn't striking in any of the other categories." Your profile is sort of holistically just really good. You should be proud of this, but not too proud.

The Above the Fold Award: Your profile is the best... not counting the Biography, Description, and Abilities sections. We like your character's name, gender, species, color, and your username.

The Iron Chef Special Ingredient Award: For exceptional use of the contest's special theme. This might go either to a character who embodies the theme in an iconic way or to a character who creatively manages to subvert the theme entirely. Not sure.

The Backdoor Worldbuilding Award: For a character who strongly evokes an interesting setting and whose biography we'd all like to see expanded upon. Why even bother with the Grand Battle? Oh, right, we're not anyway.

The Diligent Gentleman Award: For a character who would be particularly interesting to see actually compete in the Grand Battle format, for whatever reason. Why even bother entering this profile in anything other than a Grand Battle?

The 20Q Award for Confusing Me: This isn't a "Worst of" award. There isn't one, cause that would be cruel. Besides, I like being confused. This goes to a character that is just weird; something that shouldn't work, but works well enough.

The Synergy Award: This is kind of like the Diligent Gentleman Award, but more focused. This character, by some stroke of luck, would be really interesting to see interact with one or more of the other award winners. You could try finagling to metagame this one, but might wind up with

The I See What You Did Award: For a profile that seemed really geared towards getting one of the awards in particular, probably at the expense of the character as a whole. Well, you get an award, anyway.

This all sound fair to you? No? Too bad! You have two weeks! The theme of the first contest--this isn't so grand a reveal because it's already in the topic--but the theme of the first contest is FLIGHT. Interpret that as you will.
Username: Schazer stargazer
Name: Peppi Nephrite. For you landlocked philistines, that's Princess Nephrite. Pronounced Nehfreet!
Species: Some kind of amphibious merfolk, wrapped up in some kind of form-warping godcoat.
Gender: Lady
Color: Under the seeeea

Description: Peppi has the usual seakin features - a face-splitting smile, short white hair with two pointy bits of her head sticking out, and big, fully black eyes. She breathes through her slightly-translucent and perpetually-damp skin, which is a healthy greenstone sort of colour. She wears an unnecessary amount of exquisitely-brocaded and embroidered sea-green fabric (gold, jade, purple and white detailing), which shimmers and sways even when Peppi doesn't. It can't seem to decide on one particular cut, but consistently has a hugeass pair of kimono-esque "wings" which hang from her arms. Hoods, sashes, and ridiculous trains all seem to be fair game.

Her hands are webbed, with sticky pads like a tree frog's. The Cloak's body-warping abilities mean her legs/tail may or may not exist, but when hitching up her skirts she definitely has legs. They're pretty good at running, too! Peppi does a lot of running, being no stranger to lying, stealing, and cheating her way through life with a flutter of transparent eyelids. She's not actually a princess, but always tries to get new people to greet her as such. She is friendly but a forced nomad because of her distinctive outfit, which means she's got to sweet-talk you out of all your food before she hits the road again.

She also has jewelry. Most of it is stolen but she cares most deeply for a pearl earring which belonged to her dead friend.

Weapons/Abilities: Peppi's Cloak is the cursed artefact of some god or another. The Cloak marks its wearer as the Preysome, a ritual sacrifice to be slaughtered by the bearer of the Dagger. The Cloak cannot be removed until the accursed has been killed by the Dagger-bearer, and makes its wearer really good at fleeing. It does this by being an animate object with an apparent will of its own, as well as subtly warping the wearer's body to run faster, leap further, etc etc. Being seakin, the Cloak also propels Peppi through water faster than she physically could herself. The Cloak appears immune to water damage or dirt, and tends to stitch itself back together if anything cuts it (except the Dagger). Adding the Cloak's powers to her own, she can stick a landing onto a roof without any trouble, and hit the ground again gracefully.

Peppi also has the Dagger, the other half to the story of her Cloak. The one marked as the Dagger's bearer is the Huntward, and they are possessed by a desire to seek out and kill the Preysome. The Dagger gives its bearer a supernatural sense of where to find the Preysome, and subtly warps their physiology over time to suit their role as the predator. Peppi is not the Dagger's bearer; she stole it and has kept it under wraps since. The Dagger grants her abnormal combat skill when she's wielding it, but also gives her a steadily-building desire to hunt herself down. It's situationally useful at best.

The Cloak and Dagger may have some kind of clause which subtly prevents death by means other than Daggerage. Peppi hasn't tested this and has no real inclination to do so.

Biography: Peppi is running around with a magical dagger and a magical cloak because gods are douchebags, and Peppi tried sticking it to a pair of them. A particular duo (or was it two faces of one, who the fuck knows) were patrons of a pair of cursed items which would seek out chosen ones to enact outdated traditions. Predator and prey, fight or flight, and probably some ingrained sexist ideals that Peppi doesn't have the patience for. She wasted several years of her life chasing a friend who was chosen by the Cloak, failed to save her from her Huntsward, crossed paths with the Cloak further down the track, and decided to take the damn thing for herself and find a way to break the curse once and for all. She disarmed her Huntsward by sheer fluke, stole his knife, and has been on the run ever since.

E: supplementary worldbuildy shit
a brief history
The beaus
Name: Franklin Jackson
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Color: #137137

Biography: Dammit, dammit, dammit!
What the hell did you get yourself into this time, Frank?
He's dead. You didn't do it, but there's no way these cops will buy that.
That bastard set you up. Shoulda seen that coming, Frank. But no, he just waved a pile of bills in your face and you stopped asking questions.
Even when he dragged you through that crazy-lookin' hole to this crazy-lookin' place, you were only thinkin' about that sweet, sweet cash.
Never again, Frank. Never again. No money's worth this kinda trouble.
You don't know where you are, who the dead guy is, or who these "Transdimensional Police" pigs on your tail are.
None of that matters, Frank. You just gotta run, and never stop runnin'.
Because they're never gonna stop chasin' ya.

Description: Frank, you're just a two-bit hood, and anyone can tell just by takin' a glance at ya. You don't do a lot of thinkin', maybe you oughta do some more now that you're in this mess.
Sure, you like the shiny stuff, Frank, but you got no fight in you. The moment things look rough, you turn and run. Oh, sure, you're a big guy and sometimes you can bluff your way, but if that goes wrong, you're outta there.
And you don't like cops. They don't like you, either. Nothin' good ever happens when you and cops are in the same place.
Hell, when it comes down to it, you don't really like anyone. And after this fiasco, you sure as hell don't trust anyone, ever.

Weapons/Abilities: You run fast, Frank. You ain't gonna set any world records, but the average cop's no match for ya on foot. 'Course, that ain't gonna do ya much good if they're in a car, is it?
You can also throw a mean punch, if you gotta stand still long enough to use it. It ain't your style, though.
That's about all you got. Sure, you can pick locks, hotwire engines, look scary if you need to. Nothin' amazing, but it gets you buy.
If you got any other talent, it's a knack for gettin' in trouble with the law. Sometimes it feels like no matter how far you run, they always catch up to ya sooner or later.
Username: Loather
Name: DON-UT69 the Great, Lord of Bliss and Champion of the People
Species: 2014 Ford F-150 King Ranch
Gender: Truck
Color: Leather Interior Brown

Description: A very large truck with even larger tires, wrapped in camo and decked out with chrome bumpers. Blue LEDs light up the wheels' jewel-encrusted rims. Backside is plastered with bumper stickers, ranging from "WARNING: I DON'T DIAL 911" to "HOW 'BOUT I PUT MY CARBON FOOTPRINT UP YOUR LIBERAL ASS?". Countless exhaust pipes extrude from beneath the truck, constantly wrapping it in a dark and sooty cloud. A glimmering gold pair of TruckNutz (The Ultimate Truck Accessory™) proudly dangle from the rear bumper.

Weapons/Abilities: Sturdy, weighs a lot. Can go really fast; you could say that it flies down the road! Has an ear-splittingly loud horn and a highly toxic exhaust. Very clever. Commands a peasant army, directing them with beeps and turn signals.

Biography: The world's first intelligent truck, DON-UT69 was custom-made to transport and protect an aristocratic family from the Landgraviate of Bliss. Though programmed for absolute loyalty, the truck went rogue after being commanded by one of its owners to run down a serf; DON-UT69 had directed its loyalty not to its owners, but to the people. It used its charismatic machine ways to incite a peasant uprising, leading to its rise as the greatest truck-warlord the world has ever seen. Despite outward appearances, DON-UT69 has ruled with both benevolence and wisdom; under its guidance a public education system was developed, free housing was provided to the homeless, and farmers were no longer required to hand over four-fifths of their crop to the local nobility. Loved by the people but merciless in battle, DON-UT69's moniker of "the Great" is well-deserved.
No commitment? Count me in!

Username: Garuru
Names: Project "Able" and Project "Cain"
Races: Superhuman and Superhuman
Genders: Male and Male
Color: #888800
Description: Project "Able" (henceforth called Able) is a rather young-looking fellow with an angelic face. Golden straight shoulder-length locks, mischievous cheekbones, the like. But this face has been permanently contorted in a snarl of hatred. It is unsure why he has this grimace, but one thing is for sure, he is looking for somebody. He seems to have an obsession with this "Cain". And nobody has even heard of this "Cain", but, instead of elaborating when asked, Able tends to just fly off the hook and kill someone. Anyone, really. He is dressed in a simple grey jumpsuit, emblazoned with some random-looking numbers. He has no shoes or socks, and his only ornaments are a pair of handcuffs, broken of course.

Project "Cain" (henceforth called Cain) has a similar appearance, but his hair is dull brown and curly, and his face is similarly dull. In contrast to Able's look of hatred, his is a look of nervousness. It appears he is running away from someone (it's Able). He also has a simple gray jumpsuit, but he has no handcuffs, and he does indeed have shoes. A nice pair of Keds, although they are kind of worn out. Oh and he also has a mysterious mark on his forehead. That's kind of important.

Weapons/Abilities: It is hard to pinpoint just what their abilities are, but Able has been known to "teleport" although this has later been proved to be simply super speed. He can also fly, and some people say they can see shimmering outlines of six wings behind him as he does so. He may have other abilities, but, as he is rather single-minded in his pursuit, he does not have much creativity.

Cain's abilities, however, are more clear. He accidentally creates monsters wherever he goes. They range in size from mosquito to Godzilla, and they always have some deadly power, whether it's nerve poison or just being Godzilla big. He has no control over this power, so he is always trying to avoid populated areas. It's possible that the type and Deadliness Rating of the monsters are based on his emotions. He has no remarkable abilities otherwise, but he has never been harmed by his own creations, which is something, I guess. In fact, I don't think they can even see him.

Another thing to note is that Able seems forced to fight Cain's monsters if he should see them. This may explain why Cain is not dead yet, despite Able's abilities.

Backstory: Their backstories are shrouded in mystery, but we do have an interview with the director of the lab they escaped from.

Us: "You are... Dr. Adam Appelbaum, yes? Director of Serpent of Eden Laboratories?"
Dr. Adam Appelbaum: "Yes."
Us: "Alright... so can you elaborate on exactly what happened the night of July 25?"
AA: "Well, the details are still confidental, I'm afraid, but it wouldn't hurt to tell the public about this. There was a... breakout. By two of our most valuable experiments. One of our guards... never mind, it's a long story. So, anyways, we've been trying to capture them, but it's proven difficult thus far. So, um, watch out. These experiments appear totally human, but don't be fooled! They are highly dangerous, and we urge that you steer clear of them, if you see them."
Us: "Okay, and what do they look like? Do you have any pictures?"
AA: "They're kinda... human-looking. You know? One of them is blond, and the other has brown hair. And they're males. Well, male-looking."
Us: "That isn't very helpful-"
AA: "Oh, but they are wearing the exact same jumpsuit I'm wearing right now! Only theirs' is grey, not green. Other than that, well, it'll be obvious when you see them, I suppose. They have that... vibe about them."
Us: "Um. Okay. So, this has been a PSA to everyone in the vicinity. Stay clear of anyone with grey jumpsuits and odd vibes."

We have also salvaged a few eyewitness reports:

Crazy Woman: "I swear I saw it! There was a big frog thing attacking Old Man Hannon's house! It was the size of my car, and it was spewing acid all over the house! Oh, it was horrible! But then this absolute angel flew in and started slashing away at it with an axe! It was kind of gross, actually. But nothing could ever mar that angelic face! I wish I had gotten his number. Hmm."
Us: "Erm, you say he flew in?"
CW: "Yeah, he was flying and all that. I think he even had, like, wings... Oh! Was he like, literally an angel? Ohmigosh! Why did I not get his number?!"

Some Old Guy in a Bar: "So, it was pretty late at night, yeah? I was just about to head home to my wife, but then this odd feller staggers in out of nowhere. He was wearing a jumpsuit or something, was that what it's called? So uh yeah he walks to the bar and orders the strongest thing. Of course, we all know what that is. Hehehe... And, get this, he downs it in one gulp! A'int never seen nobody do that, least not here... So, of course, we got a little bit concerned... y'now, he looked pretty young. But he seemed okay. At least until later, when he stumbled off the stool and vomited. We had a good laugh over it, but turns out it wasn't vomit, it was bees. Yeah, bees poured out of his mouth and started stinging everybody. They musta been like super-bees, too, because everybody who was stung just kinda... blew up. It was grisly. Fortunately, I got out of there pretty fast. And the worst part was my wife didn't believe me at all when I told her why I was late!"

Errata: Yes, I know it's spelled Abel in the Bible, but this misspelling was intentional.
[Image: 6xGo4ab.png][Image: sig.gif]
Username: SupahKiven
Name: The Weeping Steel
Species: Augmented Human
Gender: Undetermined, assumed female
Color: #696969

Description: A humanoid creature standing at 5'4". Has long, dirty blonde hair that hangs in front of 'her' face, obscuring most facial features. Wears a ragged white dress, which is what makes observers assume it to be female. Appears to be albino, as skin is almost unnaturally pale. 'She' possesses two features that make it extremely dangerous. The first is the metal grafted to the wrists where hands would normally be. It appears to be tempered steel twisted into a claw shape with three prongs and dotted with rivets. A black liquid leaks from the hairline cracks along the surface.

The second, and by far most noticeable quality, is the set of giant metal wings protruding from its back. Having a wing span of about double the height of the creature, the wings are likely composed of the same material as the claws. The structure of the wings are made of thick bars, with the space in between them filled in by thin sheets of a similar metal. The wings also seem to be draped in a type of chain, which are composed of an unknown, pale green metal. Despite each wing being a single object welded together, they can move as easily as though it was constructed to move.

As would be expected, the wings cannot be lifted by the creature, probably due to its presumed young age and the weight of the wings, although they seem to be perfectly capable of flight. It has been nicknamed 'The Weeping Steel' due to the sound the wings make when they move, which sounds like a sobbing child, and the trails of fluid left behind by the claws.

Weapons/Abilities: The Weeping Steel possesses excellent endurance, able to stand intense bouts of pressure and rapid and intense fluctuations in temperature. However, it seems to be afraid of conflict, as it often curls up and makes a whimpering sound when approached. The wings, however, seem to have a mind of their own. When perceiving danger, the wings attempt to spread out and the chains lash out at the presumed attackers. The claws also propose a significant threat, as they can cause significant damage and the liquid prevents the coagulation of blood.

Biography: Authorities had traced a path of strange tracks through the Siberian wilderness for a total of five days. On their chase they had found approximately four villages abandoned and seven with at least half of the population dead. They all contained the tracks of the creature. They shifted around, as though it was brought toward houses and other buildings, but anything within a 20 foot radius of the tracks was riddled with holes about the size of an industrial chain. The team stopped reporting in once they reached a spot 10 miles from Novosibirsk. Another recon team was dispatched, only to find a large crater and the lowest ranking member of the tracking party. He claimed that they had reached the creature, only for it to be 'a young girl with giant, fuck off wings.' He went on to say that 'she freaked out when we got close, killing Josh and Ivan and... and... dear god, she killed them...' The man has been taken into custody for further questioning and many governments in the country of Asia have been alerted of the potential threat.
Username: Ixcaliber
Name: Carpet
Species: Carpet
Gender: Carpet
Colour: #FF0000

Description: A battered old magic carpet. When she was new she was a vibrant shade of crimson, with elaborate pattern woven into her and tassels dangling from each of her corners. Over time her colour has faded, leaving her looking a sort of washed out shade of salmon. From a quick glance she doesn't look too worse for wear, but it is under closer examination that you would notice a not inconsiderable number of minor stains, of patches where she has been worn down over the years, of areas where she is beginning to fray and interestingly scorch marks upon her tassels. Occasionally a stray spark of magic will leak from her frayed edges.

Carpet is sentient, yes, but in terms of intelligence she's closer to that of an animal than a human being. She forms quick bonds with those who treat her kindly and is immensely loyal. She is playful when she has the opportunity and can be quite brave when she has to. She doesn't really understand human speech but can interpret tone. It is sort of possible to have a rudimentary conversation with her via the minor psychic link that forms while touching her, but don't expect an in depth philosophical discussion or anything.

Weapons/Abilities: Carpet has the ability to fly. She can fly really quite quickly, but will default to a comfortable (ymmv) speed if she is carrying any humans. She can easily carry one fully grown adult, and could probably carry another at a stretch but it would wear her out pretty quickly. Anyone who touches Carpet forms a weak psychic link with her. This functionality is intended to provide an easy way to direct her to your destination. She does not come equipped with Satellite Navigation.

Biography: Carpet was woven by a wizened old man with a bald head and a long white beard. She was sold for a hundred gold pieces in a bustling bazaar to a man in a leather jacket and a snappy hat. She took an instant liking to him. Over the next few years they seemed to spend a lot of time in dusty old tombs dealing with all kind of unnatural creatures, treasure hunters and soldiers. One day her owner had a lie down on the ground and didn't get up again even when all his skin eventually fell off. Carpet was lonely for a long time but one day she found herself somewhere else entirely with seven new potential friends.
fyck phytybyckyt

Username: it's sol
Name: Flawk
Species: Monster, Sougth-Wehstern
Gender: Female
Color: parliment's red
Description: To the common observer, Flawk is just a hooded, hunching figure in a large, striped, garishly decorated rainbow cloak. However, if one were to take a closer look at what was under the cloak's hood, they would see a withering mass of feathered creatures consonantly moving inside. The consciousness that connects and controls all of these birds is known as Flawk.

While she is not the brightest bulb on the monster tree, she is curious, resourceful, and determined. When she figures out that she wants something, she will get it, and she will use everything she has to do it. This has lead to a few close encounters, some run-ins with unscrupulous folk, and a lack of close friends, but Flawk chooses to see the brighter side of things. She gets to have all of these experiences and stories to tell, and she gets to learn more about the world around her! She wants to settle down someday, and just sit and tell stories about all of the wild things she used to do, but until then she's content with living one day at a time.

Weapons/Abilities: As a mystical-animal monster creature, Flawk is capable of shifting her form from the hooded figure in a cloak into a giant flock of birds. Every bird is a living creature that can act independently, but ultimately they all follow Flawk's will. Individual birds can be harmed or die without causing damage to Flawk, but if too many are harmed, then upon turning back, Flawk will be in great pain. The transformation is sort of an all or nothing deal though, while every bird that Flawk turns into doesn't need to be present for her to turn back, if it doesn't return to the flock then it ceases to be a part of her. This doesn't matter to Flack much though, because she's always picking up new birds anyway.

Biography: "The farther from Centrall, the worse off you are."

Flawk doesn't know who or what told her this, but after her first and only visit to that depraved excuse for a city, she immediately declared it false. After all, she thought to herself, the Sougth, Wehst, and Sougth-Wehst can all be equally as far from Centrall as the other, and how good or bad the people had it certainly didn't have to do with the distance from some walled off city.

As Flawk mused on her memories and thoughts, she spotted someone walking along the road, someone with machinery and wires, who didn't seem to be all there. Was it someone from the Nyorth or Eest or both? What were they doing here? What was with all of those sparkles that seemed to be coming out of them? How were they walking with one leg?

Flawk was excited, she hadn't seen anyone this interesting in days, she needed to meet them right now! Flawk spread out her cloak and dissipated into a large group of birds who proceeded to make their way to the hulking creature.

"Hi," she said, as the birds once again formed a cloaked figure. The creature continued on. "I said hi! Hello, hola! Uhm uhh... Yo!"

She continued on and on, until the creature finally gave in and said, "WHAT?"

"Hi, where are you from, are you a hybrid like me, why did you come here, whats with all of those sparkly things?"


Flawk was nonplussed, "Nah, I get that all the time, I just ignore it at this point." Flawk leaned towards the creature, "Between you and me, I don't think most folk like hybrids, yanno?"

The creature looked down at Flawk's emotionless face, frowning a little. With some reluctance, it sighed. "I AM UER. IF YOU WISH TO TRAVEL WITH ME, YOU MAY, WHAT IS YOUR NAME."

"I'm Flawk, I like you! So, like I said..." Flawk and Uer continued to talk until it got late, at which point Flawk asked if they could stop and take a rest. Later, when she woke up, Uer was gone. She didn't try calling out its name, nor did she try looking for it. She just kept her eyes peeled for something interesting, like she always did.

"Just another day, I suppose."
Question: what is the maximum number of awards a single profile could win
Answer: I was going for one, but now I'm gonna say two, as there are only seven entrants.

Unless someone submits a profile within this impromptu twenty-four hour extension. Really more like fifty-some hours but whatever. They are then guaranteed an award.
Awards time!

The Above the Fold Award--Gender: Truck. I think we're done here. It's Loather's DON-UT69 profile, no contest.

Iron Chef Special Ingredient Award--Cain I can take or leave, but I'd like to point out that on top of being the first submission who could actually fly, Abel "tends to fly off the hook." That's dedication. Project "Able" and Project "Cain" takes the prize.

The Backdoor Worldbuilding Award--SupahKiven's profile had me even before I got to "many governments in the country of Asia." The Weeping Steel all the way.

The Diligent Gentleman Award--DragonFogel lives and breathes Battle, so it's no surprise that pretty much any character he could possibly invent would win this award. In the grand tradition of the Ordinary Guy But, he created Franklin Jackson, an ordinary guy but with Dimension Police on his ass. I'd battle it.

The Leveraging Your Synergy Award--Given that in the "Flight" contest we have three and a half characters who can't even fly, some sort of flying conveyance would probably be appreciated. Carpet helps make up for all your failings.

The 20Q Award for Confusing Me--Sol, that's not how you spell "North" or "South". Or… or "East" or "West" or "Central" or, wait a minute, that's not how you spell "Flock!" Flawk's profile is fucking with my mind without me even needing to connect your ideas into sentence forms.

I See What You DId Award--I know Schazer is a magical words-siren and therefore can't wait til the juicy bits to start spilling out good-writing-isms, so I don't know if it's entirely fair to say that she was specifically angling toward the Above the Fold Award. Still, the Peppi Nephrite profile definitely seems invested in putting its best foot forward.

The Best In Show Award--All of you are wonderful profilers but I can't deny my lust for sentient cars. DON-UT69 is a sentient truck, which is even better.

Thank you all for participating. You are glorious and incandescent.

*fade out to Miss America theme*
That was fun.

With the first contest finally wrapped up, I'm up for the second. You've got one week to come up with a profile for this theme:

Light and darkness.

Again, interpret that as you will. Just make sure you've got both of those in there.
Username: cyber95
Name: Carlos Bracero
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Color: #DB1600

Description: Carlos is a thirty-something Latino man of slightly below average height, and slightly above average weight. He's currently trying out something new with a goatee, what do you think? Maybe he should get a haircut, too, it's starting to get a little scruffy again. When he's on the job, he's usually wearing a pair of blue jeans and a red polo shirt with his company logo on it. He wears a digital watch on the wrong wrist that he doesn't know how to use, and always has a pair of sunglasses on his forehead when they aren't covering his eyes.
Customer testimonials describe him as "A joy to be around" and "Happy to help every step of the way." Coworkers say that "He has more patience with idiots than the rest of us put together," and "Even when he does get fed up, he hides it real well from the customer." If it weren't for his unique position, that'd be a little more special, but he certainly has a knack for keeping up a pleasant professional demeanour.
Outside of work, his clothing of choice is "This probably still fits" and "Charlene, have these been washed? Eh, oh well." As far as he's concerned, life is pretty swell. He runs a fairly successful business (that he would totally expand more if he could), a wonderful wife and daughter, and something really unique and useful that nobody else has. Every week he treats his employees and a few friends to pizza and beer, and it doesn't seem to be changing any time soon.
Sure, he may not think ahead a lot, but what could life really throw at him that he couldn't handle? No point in dwelling on what could happen. Thinking about tragedy just makes him upset anyways. Much better to focus on the positive. Just... always think positive. That's how he got where he is today.

Weapons/Abilities: The ability to turn darkness into lightness, and vice versa. That is, can convert light into mass. He can take a well lit room and make it dark, while simultaneously adding a few pounds to the nearest person, or object. On the flipside, he can make anything light as a feather, as long as he doesn't mind it getting real bright in the immediate area.
Some have described his infallible patience as a superpower, but the fact is when everything he has to move weighs next to nothing, it's just a hell of a lot less stressful than it is for everybody else. He doesn't have superpatience, just an easy job.

Biography: Carlos lives in Fremont, California, where he owns and works at his own moving company. They're small, but fairly popular, due to his ability to get things moved faster than anybody else. He has to keep the company small, of course, unless he can find somebody else with the ability to make furniture weightless.
He met his wife, Charlene, in high school and hooked up with her a few years after the fact, and they've been happily married since another year after that. His 8-year-old daughter, Isabel, is a bit of a handful, but always making daddy proud. No superpowers of her own, as far as Carlos can tell. Charlene theorizes the superpower gene comes from the mother's side, but Carlos doesn't think his mom had superpowers. I mean, he's done a good job keeping it a secret from most people, and he runs a business around it! So maybe it isn't that hard, after all...
If he wasn't born with them, Carlos has no clue where his ability came from in the first place. He was twelve when he first discovered it. Rather, he discovered the ability to make things bright or dark. It wasn't for another few months when he realized where that light came from and went. If superhero comics taught him anything of course, it was that with great power comes great responsibility. And okay, it wasn't an amazing power. When was he gonna use it? He could make a store real dark and steal stuff while nobody could see, but that would be stealing, which he had been led to believe by many people was wrong. Still, even if there wasn't that much power going on, it still demanded responsibility! And keeping it secret! That was the other thing. Responsibility and secrecy.
Before that point in any case, Carlos can not recall anything that would give him such a bizarre power. He didn't bathe in radioactive goo, wasn't aware of any... mutated photons or whatever, and was fairly certain he was never signed up for an injection of supersoldier serum in place of the yearly flu shots. In any case, it didn't matter to him. The thought crossed his mind on occasion, but, well, he was happy enough knowing it was working out for him now. Probably better than trying to fight crime anyways.
Username: elpie
Name: Fiona "Yona" Saulson kind-of-a.k.a. the Black Cape
Species: Meta-ish Human
Gender: Lady
Color: In brightest day, in blackest night

Description: A seventeen-year-old black girl currently clad in a black sweater, pants, and ski cap. Yona carefully cultivated the image of a starving inner-city orphan (she isn't actually an orphan) as long as it suited her, and as she grows into womanhood is finding that it has stuck--she remains short, skinny and pale no matter how much she eat or how fit she gets (and she's been eating well and hitting the gym often in the past year).

Yona is easygoing and sociable, if a bit brusque, amongst her friends, colleagues, or anyone with whom she feels she might share a common purpose. To strangers, her parents, or anyone she views as a symbol of adult authority, she tends to keep her head low and speak in monosyllables. Not much of a planner, she only really comes alive as part of a team.

Yona has deep moral convictions which she comes to loathe when brought to associate them with her father.

Weapons/Abilities: Yona has a still-developing talent for communing with electrical systems, which she has mostly employed in the past in order to induce localized blackouts spanning up to a few city blocks. To say she "talks" to networks wouldn't quite be accurate--she describes it more as a process of beating them into submission until they start bribing her to go away. Still, she feels like with more practice, she'll be able to have the sort of badass technopathy powers that every soft-sci-fi network TV procedural eventually allots to a guest star. More complex systems seem more willing to comply with her demands, up to a point--a Game Boy is hard, the Internet is hard, the city electrical grid is juuuuuuust right.

These powers are definitely more of a hammer than a chisel, at least for the time being. Because it felt the least like robbery out of any way to monetize her powers, she tried going onto the bank's website and directly raise her savings balance. She was excited when the numbers began to rise before she realized that she hadn't done anything beyond convincing Firefox to display a higher number. Dumb piece-of-shit superpowers.

Biography: The ludicrously corrupt sanitation department of Matthew 7:25 City were running out of places to safely and legally dispose of their surplus Hyperfluoride, a radioactive waste product produced by metahuman battles. They had to have considered the possibility that gradually introducing it into the drinking water would produce more metahumans and exacerbate the problem, but the lumbering bureaucracy-brain of the 725 starting dumping before the independent-thought memo got past the photocopying stage. To their credit, most of the new power manifestations generated by the dumping program were benign but useless.

A group of loosely acquainted teenagers who frequented a certain water fountain at a certain high school in the crime-stricken neighborhood of Sandbar South were, for whatever reason, hit particularly hard. This included Yona, as well as a textilkene, a ventriloquist, a low-level empath, and a half-decent clairvoyant. All of them felt that need that all irradiated lower-class teens feel at around this time in their life--the need to give back to the community by fighting back against the criminal elements and corrupt authorities that plague their neighborhoods. However, none of them could do it alone.

It was Bryce, the clairvoyant, who realized that the well-coordinated combination of a localized blackout, a textilkinetically controlled cape, some strange noises from all around, and a burst of empathically induced fear could simulate the presence of a real urban vigilante, operating under the nom de guerre of the Black Cape. The trick was to keep the gangs (and, when need be, cops) afraid and off-balance enough not to realize that the Black Cape, upon swooping down from the shadows, never seemed to hit anyone very hard or bring anyone into custody, despite his threats. After some months of this, the group got good enough to actually convince a few people to turn themselves in, solidifying the legend somewhat.

Whether the group found a way to continue to function without Yona's ability to shut off street lights and security cameras is unknown and irrelevant to the story at hand.
Username: Schazer
Name: Uuuuuuuh
Species: Nyxic Mass
Gender: Pfft, nah
Color: black on black for dialogue, probably just black for the actual post

Description: The Nyxic Mass entered into the battle was stored in a purpose-built dungeon in a converted mineshaft on what is allegedly Sparkcroft Academy grounds. "Allegedly" because nobody wants to mess with wizards. Nobody's ever actually looked at this particular one, but it probably looks like other, better-documented examples of its kind - a core like a blobby sort of bear, about the size of a large dog, exuding an aura on a scale larger than the Mass itself, by like, a factor of three or something. The aura absorbs light, ignores physical matter, and has weird eddies and kinks in it which make things inside it/behind it look distorted. Anything deep within the aura is impossible to discern with the naked eye, appearing for most intents and purposes like a source of "darkness" (even though that's totally not a thing). They're about as intelligent as your typical magical construct, that is to say, not really - unless the light they eat is encoding information.

Weapons/Abilities: Nyxic Masses eat light, and appear to require little else. Whatever paltry amount filters through the mineshaft into our contestant's cell seems to be enough to have kept it alive, although Nyxic Masses grow rapidly when given a more consistent source. Their auras distort and warp light to the Mass proper, which does the actual eating. Small, portable sources of light like a match or a glow-worm are grasped in the Mass' forelimbs, where it exerts its latent magical energy to speed up the combustion/biochemical processes which produced the light. If it lived in a world with electricity, andin such a world given a lamp hooked to the national grid, it would happily gorge itself until the filament in the lamp burnt out, probably growing big enough in the process to fill whatever room you tossed it in.

The Nyxic Mass in this battle is small enough that sunlight still hurts it - any sufficiently powerful light source is too much for a small Mass' aura to absorb at once, in contrast burning the aura clean off. A Mass unable to escape direct sunlight will starve itself to death trying to regenerate its aura; their usual response is to seek shade. A Mass larger than a house will produce an aura of easily one kilometre radius and be more or less unfazed by sunlight; the inner third of its field is comletely lightless. Fires burn out unnaturally fast; batteries in torches are spent, anything unfortunate enough to have a biological glow experiences a metabolic crash.

The Mass' magical ambience messes with other magical constructs, and (if wizards bothered to test for this kind of thing) causes dips in Vitamin D levels. It is always in the centre of its aura, where even low-light vision will be useless. They are not intelligent enough to be hostile, but have been demonstrated to gain intelligence when absorbing torch-based morse code. Stick one in front of a computer screen and it would absorb (and comprehend) whatever text you'd left up on it. Masses can utter a near-subsonic rumble when they attempt to communicate.

Biography: Nyxic Masses were one of the Twelve Savage Beasts said to be created in the beginning by Solbruin, mother-goddess of Monsters. Wildlife mismanagement Praeterwater eventually led to the first fall of civilisation, the seakin (isolating themselves in the Deep) being the only surviving race. Once things stopped running out of each other to eat, the worship-starved lesser gods plonked a few more mortals down on the shores of Middle Ocean and picked out a bunch of Chosen to lead the clean-up. Fortifications were carved, nests were raided, Masses with auras which cloaked continents were somehow slain, and New Civilisation eventually sorted its shit out and made the Praeterwater safe again. The damn wizards, of course, felt keeping the best possible records of their ancient foes was prudent, hence keeping a mythical beast locked away in a lightless cell deep underground and depriving the "extinct species" list of one dangerous monster.
Username: Truegreen
Name: Daniel Weiss and the Hive Lord
Species: Human and Parasitic Abomination
Gender: M/M?
Color: #808000

Description: Daniel is a completely normal clerk. He is slight of build and a bit out of shape. This man is not running any marathons folks. He is generous and kind, going out of his way to help others even at cost to himself. His goal in life is to be the best person he can be and improve the lives of those around him but otherwise has no special powers, abilities, or even artifacts. What Daniel doesn't know is that he is infested with an alien parasite beyond human ken. It lives in his brain and calls itself the Hive Lord. As a megalomaniac bent on universal conquest and enslaving all living things, the Hive Lord is a menace in any place it happens to find itself. It also has the bad habit of completely subverting its host's will and energizing their body with powers from a dimension that really shouldn't exist. The only caveat is that the Hive Lord has a little trouble with Sunlight. While the host is standing in direct or partial sunlight, the parasite just can't take control. Of course the Hive Lord has a plan for this. That is, he intends to bury every world he conquers in an endless night.

Weapons/Abilities: Daniel is completely normal, he has no special powers and abilities. The Hive Lord however can create small psychic fields, give its host unnatural strength and endurance, make its host highly resistant to harm, and open small rifts into its home dimension. Not to mention it's mind enslaving talents and its tendency to spread its vile spawn everywhere it can. The Hive Lord can only enhance its host while in control of their mind. This eliminates all of such abilities in direct sunlight. However, its other abilities are only weakened by sunlight.

Biography: Daniel was making a sandwich. It was his favorite, tuna on rye. Daniel loved making sandwiches. You might say it was his hobby. He sometimes took huge plates of the things to his office to share with his coworkers. He loved to see the layers come together, even on a sandwich as simple as this one. But his normal joy wasn't there today. Instead there was the strangest feeling that he was being watched...and judged. Maybe he should draw the blinds, no that was silly, he loved the sunlight. But perhaps it wouldn't hurt to have a little shade, he could go back to sleep catch up on some rest. Though the moment he thought that Daniel felt extremely silly. It was the middle of the day! And besides, he had a sandwich to fini...
A butter-knife fell to the floor clattering loudly. An unfinished tuna sandwich sat forlornly on the counter. And Daniel was quite suddenly further from home than he'd ever been.
Username: TimeothyHour
Name: A lamp
Species: Lamp
Gender: None
Color: #A08000
Description: An ordinary red metal desk lamp. Its slightly dented hemispherical dome, facing downwards, lacks a lightbulb. It has an on-off switch and a dimmer on its base. There is still a tag attached: it is an IKEA "KAOSDÖD" lamp.

Weapons/Abilities: The lamp has no apparent abilities. Lacking a lightbulb, it cannot even illuminate the world around it.

The world not around it, however...

Biography: The lamp was abandoned in a rubbish tip after its first owner died unplugging it.

A homeless man pulled it from the trash and tried it in the junkyard generator he had scrounged. No one missed him. The generator eventually ran out of gas and stopped.

Police recovered the lamp after a runaway cooking fire destroyed an apartment block near the junkyard. The evidence officer thought it was for use. The precinct later reappeared in Tahiti, crumbling and empty of people.
Username: Garuru
Name: Templum Capitibus
Race: Temple
Gender: None
Color: #DDAA00
Description: Templum Capitibus is an averagely-sized temple seemingly made entirely out of skulls and bones. Its entrance is a gigantic skull that has a mystical power over those that see it, beckoning all inside it. Inside it, a cult resides. This cult worships the mysterious powers of the bones. They are a gruesome bunch of people who have taken to exposing as much of their bones as possible without killing themselves, and they then paint these exposed bones with gold paint, made from crushing the bones of all intruders.

Items/Abilities: Unwary visitors will be creeped out, and try to escape. However, they cannot. Inexplicably, the temple becomes an unescapable maze, and it whispers to its victims. It tells them of lies and deceit, revealing all the truths in their past. It tries to convert its victims to the Cult of Skulls. If it fails, its victims are crushed into mash, and all of the flesh siphoned away. The remaining bones are then carried to a repository, where they are then used in horrifying magical rituals.

Biography: The Temple of Skulls was first discovered in a featureless empty desert, rife with cracked mud. A lone wanderer chanced upon it. He was immensely fascinated, and yet repulsed. Seeing nothing in sight, and beginning to get a little tired, he made the foolish decision to walk in. The first room he came to was a lone antechamber, with a gold-and-ivory plated mosaic in the center. It only had one passage forwards, into the back. The second room was a much larger room, with a high domed ceiling, depicting a cherubic landscape. Only it looked like the cherubs had been painted over sloppily with black paint. There was, again, only one passage forwards. It led back to a room similar to the first, but it looked distinctly more faded. The passage forward, however, was blocked by an unmoving door seemingly made out of gilded bones. He went back into the second room, and immediately noticed that the landscape was now made of darker colors, and paint was starting to peel away from the cherubs, revealing decidedly inhuman eyes. Feeling weirded out, he broke into a brisk trot out into the first room. But it was not the first room. This one was square, and lined with a different ebony-and-gold mosaic. In the center was a crate. He did not bother looking inside, only thinking to run. As such, he barely noticed the landscapes of the ceilings shift, and the former cherubs turning into skeletal demons and devouring maidens of the land. The maidens' expressions only grew more and more grotesque, as grimaces of pain racked their entire body. Mysteriously, their bones had been left behind, leaving them as mere skeletal corpses. If he had stopped to pay attention, he would have seen that the corpses were not paintings at all, but rather arrangements of actual bone. Finally, the ground opened up in an antechamber that was ebony-and-onyx. He fell in. Bony spikes penetrated every square inch of his body, expertly missing every bone, and, as he lay there bleeding, he heard one last voice before his flesh was messily eaten away, from the feet up.

"Cepi tibi..."
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Username: sollie aris
Species: Human, Spirit
Gender: Non-binary (They), Female
Color: ribbonate
Description: Kaz is a young teen with medium length brown hair that covers their right eye. They are of average height and are a bit thin, don't have much muscle, and generally wear a polo under a big grey hoodie with a long black skirt and leggings under that, and brown shoes. STARSHIP is a pink and white spirit vaguely shaped like a human, wearing a ribbon-like mask all over her face that extends to her body, swirling around her constantly.

Kaz is not very good at talking to people, and they prefer to be left alone by people they don't know. Upon getting to know them, you learn that they are a sweet person who is perceptive about what goes on around them, but just really doesn't like to talk about them self. STARSHIP does not speak, but her actions are generally whimsical and over-the-top. In addition, she cares about and dotes on Kaz, generally attempting to protect them and push them towards things she thinks will help them grow.

Weapons/Abilities: While Kaz doesn't have any abilities of their own, they do have STARSHIP, who constantly acts as their companion and ally. While STARSHIP cannot communicate with Kaz, she does listen to his commands and has a set of abilities that she can use as they wish.

STARSHIP's ribbons can extend and pass through objects as she or Kaz wishes, then constrict, pierce through, or otherwise bludgeon their target. The ribbons can also inflict a burning sensation, but can be used to heat Kaz as well. In a pinch, STARSHIPS ribbons can also encase Kaz completely, shielding him from harm in a ball of sparkly ribbons.

STARSHIP is not visible unless she is actively using her powers, but she is always following Kaz.

Biography: Kaz doesn't remember when they first met STARSHIP, nor do they remember when they learned her name, but to them, it doesn't really matter. Whenever Kaz had to go out in public, STARSHIP did her best to make them try to socialize, but it just didn't work out great... Kaz didn't want to talk about themself and they didn't want to talk about STARSHIP either...

It was like this for a long time, with them not really making friends until a great tragedy befell their home. The only surviving member of their family, Kaz and STARSHIP wandered the remains of their town, fighting off threats and trying to survive until they ran into another group of survivors. Kaz and STARSHIP joined up with them, hoping to prevent the situation of their town from getting worse.
Username: Ixcaliber
Name: Kaohna
Species: Ex-God of Darkness
Gender: Male
Colour: some dark shade of purple

Description: Kaohna looks good for his age only insofar as most non-immortals aged over a thousand years tend to be mostly decomposed. Physically he appears to be aged seventy to eighty and he isn't looking good on it. His face is where it shows the most; his once pitch black eyes are clouded and sunken, his face gaunt and his skin wrinkled and sunburnt. Very little of his hair remains, but what is left is ash grey and growing wild. His lips are chapped and broken and his chin smattered with itchy grey stubble. Though he's about one and a half times the size of an average adult human mortal he doesn't have what would be described as a godly physique. He's scrawny; very thin (bordering on emaciated) but tough. His clothes are markedly archaic; though not as old as he is they are clearly a relic of an age long since passed. They are ragged; ripped and torn and faded from age. However none of these features are the most immediately striking thing about Kaohna; which is the small star (small only in terms of how large stars generally are (in this case it's about the size of a building)) attached to his ankle with copious lengths of unbreakable chain.

Weapons/Abilities: Once Kaohna had the ability to extinguish any light no matter how bright or how far away, but since his powers have been all but removed he can only extinguish fairly dim lights and only from a few meters away. He is also dragging around a small star on an unbreakable chain, though it's not something that he can easily weaponize it is kind of dangerous nonetheless.

Biography: In a world with an overly large pantheon Kaohna was once a God of Darkness (and of death, duplicity and other such d-words). He loathed the light and could not long stand the company of others, and it was for this reason that he chose to live beneath the Earth, away from the other gods. He would only emerge at night to usher the souls of the dead into the afterlife. He was however not unhappy with his lot in life, not at first. He was happy, until he noticed that while the other gods were revered, he was reviled. There was no temple built in his name, no offerings sacrificed to him and the few prayers that he received were not requests for his blessing but beseechments that he should hold himself at bay. It infuriated him to be hated for merely doing what must be done.

Slowly Kaohna grew more and more resentful, a process that culminated with an ill-advised attempt to extinguish the sun itself and plunge the world into an endless night. He succeeded, for a fashion. The pantheon convened, and despite a couple of grabs for power and minor crusades the fires for which might have been kindled that day, it was soon decided that Kaohna had gone too far and something needed to be done. Cinrae Goddess of Industry quickly built a back-up replacement sun (the other gods complained that it was tiny (only the size of a building) but really have you ever tried to forge a new sun when you're on a deadline) and Kaohna was chained to it, forced to drag it through the sky. It was supposed to be a temporary measure while Cinrae forged a proper sun, but what with one thing and another and eventually it was decided that it was probably the best use for Kaohna really when you got down to it and anyway he would be pretty pissed when he was finally unchained from that thing so it's probably all for the best.

Kaohna dragged that sun through the sky for thousands of years, growing increasingly bitter and hateful, until he was finally the monster that everyone had imagined that he had been. And then one day, when everyone had pretty much forgotten about him, he vanished, and the world was once more plunged into darkness.
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Username: SupahKiven
Name: The Runner
Species: Human?
Gender: Male
Color: Gold

Description: The Runner looks like a normal human jogger if they were running in the autumn. Red hoodie, dark grey sweats and blue running shoes. The hood is always pulled up, which bathes his face in shadow. Any visible skin (usually just his hands, but occasionally his legs and forearms, as well as his face if you're close enough) are covered in lacerations, bruises, burns, and blisters. His personality is unknown, as he never stops long enough to share details with anyone. The few words that have been heard are monosyllabic and monotone.

Weapons/Abilities: The Runner possesses limitless stamina and is prone to bursts of strength. However, he seems to rely less on his strength and more on his excellent agility and dexterity, so as to dodge/bypass obstacles rather than break through them. Appears to be able to walk on top of liquids, as some have seen him cross lakes and rivers without going under. He also seems to be a master in hand-to-hand combat. He possesses a bag with 'lok' sewn onto the side that only lets out a burst of sound and light when opened. He's extremely protective of it.

Biography: Never stop moving. He can't. Because to stop moving means the night will catch up. And the night can never catch up to him, not if he wants to survive. Children are right to be afraid of the dark, for the monsters that lurk there are far more than just vicious. But he can't run too fast either, run so fast he catches the day. No, the sun doesn't like creatures of the night. It burns and blisters their skin, boils them alive. So he moves with the dawn, its gentle light not strong enough to destroy him, as well as warding off those that cannot stand even a glimpse of light. He runs from the midnight lackeys and the sun's deadly weapons. The Runner protects the lock from those who have the key.
Username: Bigro
Name: Veg-E-LITE
Species: Yeast by-product
Colour: Blacker than the darkest pits of the abyss from whence all salt originated.

Description: Veg-E-LITE is a masculine, muscular, spandex wearing embodiment of the popular spread vegemite™. Being dark in tone, but lite in calories, Veg-E-LITE protects the world from the evil forces of captain.P.Nut and his nefarious underlings.

Weapons/Abilities: Using his trusty UTILITY LID Veg-E-LITE can conjure up the saltiest solution to any conceivable problem. Faster than the speed of supermarket restocking, more powerful than a speeding sheila in a tinny, Veg-E-LITE is truly the greatest force of salt there is. However, they have a terrible weakness. When exposed to the raw material of his home planet, marmomite, Veg-E-LITE rapidly loses his power!

Biography: When Veg-E-LITE was just a wee tacker, his folks seeing that those bloody greens had taken over Marmiton (His home planet)(Remember kids, vote liberal and buy Australian!) sent him into space riding on a beer can float. The powers of yeast contained within the cans gave him strange and wonderful powers. One day, he crashed landed right here! To save to world from the terrible onslaught of Captain.P.Nut and his goons, who of course, is behind all wrong! No matter the issue, it is probably the doing of Captain.P.Nut.

With his sense of righteousness and nose for the evil of Captain.P.Nut, maybe he does more harm than good. He is after all, a bit salty for most peoples tastes.
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Okay, I know I didn't explicitly state a deadline for this, but they were intended to last a week and the first was just extended for Christmas.

So that means get your profiles in by tomorrow! For timezone convenience, consider the official-official deadline to be exactly one week after I made that first post. If you're putting together a last-minute entry, this is the time to submit it!
Okay, I've made my decisions and here they are.

I See What You Did Award--This one goes to Lamp, because putting your username as a different user and filling a profile out in their style sure as heck seems like aiming for Above the Fold to me. Congratulations, Agent.

The Above the Fold Award--And I'm handing this one out to Bigro for Veg-E-Lite, the yeast by-product with a gender of Extra Salty.

Iron Chef Special Ingredient Award--This one goes to Carlos Bracero, for the use of "light" in the sense of "weight" along with the more traditional usage.

The Backdoor Worldbuilding Award--Kaohna has a backstory implying an interesting set of gods. Bickering, lazy, and above all human. Plus, if Kaohna's gone we have the interesting question of what happens with the sun now!

The Diligent Gentleman Award--The Nyxic Mass is going to start off relatively helpless and end up becoming very dangerous. Exactly the sort of character that a lot can happen to in between! Will it become sentient? Will another character try to manipulate it? Or will it just be the great threat everyone unites against? No matter how you look at it, it's going to be great as a contestant.

The Leveraging Your Synergy Award--We've got a guy with a star chained to him, a monster that can't survive without light but doesn't want too much of it, and a guy who fears the night even though he comes from it. All of these have interesting potential for interacting with Daniel Weiss and the Hive Lord, and specifically the latter's plans to cause eternal night, so let's give him a hand!

The 20Q Award for Confusing Me--This one goes to the Runner, mostly for that delightfully uninformative-yet-informative biography.

The Best In Show Award--Fiona "Yona" Saulson, for being an all-around interesting character that doesn't quite hit one of the other categories, at least in my mind. Good work, LP!

This was not easy to judge, and I mean no offense to the two profiles that didn't quite make it. The main reason they didn't cross the finish line was that the connection to the theme felt a bit weaker than with most of the profiles, and I didn't feel there was enough of a hook to either of them to overcome that.

Anyways, I'm passing this along now, and thanks to everyone for participating!
Arrigh' motherfuckers, I'll be your gracious host for Week 3. You've got seven days to show me what you've got, to the tune of...