The Ratings War III: Republic of Heaven (Second Round Finals)

[The Sorrow]

?DEAD?! What do you mean, dead?! How could this??

?Father, he was not especially powerful; mid-level at best. Any powerful angel or demon could-?

?I bloody well know that! I meant ?how could somebody screw over the system like this?!??

He reached into his desk and pulled out an impressive-looking bottle. Without the term ?moderation? going through his head even once, he threw his head back and took a massive swig.

?Father, perhaps you shouldn?t be drinking.?

?Oh, shut up, Son. Might as well have the whole bloody Trinity here, eh? Father, Son, and Holy Spirits.?

?Father, the man is dead no matter how drunk you are.?

He glared at His son, then planted His face in His free hand.

?Fuck??

?My Lord, do not use such language!?

?DON?T YOU TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CAN?T SAY!?

He hurled the bottle against the wall, shattering it. He then snapped His fingers, causing the bottle (and the liquid within) to reform and return to His hand.

? Please, Father, calm down!?

?Calm down? CALM DOWN?! You two have made me ?calm down? for the last two thousand years! I think I deserve the right to get pissed off once in a while!?

?Lord, I-?

?Be quiet. Gabriel, Christ, leave. I need some time to think.?

?As you wish, Lord.?

The two men departed, leaving the Lord to sit and ponder, taking swigs from his bottle every so often. He slammed His great fist into the desk, cracking it.

?My Lord, L-Lord Lucifer is here to see you,? buzzed His intercom.

?Let him in.?

Not like that bastard could make the day any worse.

The door opened, allowing a sharp-dressed man to enter. He looked for all the world like an ordinary lawyer (and was thus absolutely terrifying). He took a seat and placed his hands on his legs, waiting for his Host to initiate the conversation.

?The Hell do you want??

?Oh, no, I already own it!?

?Hardy-har-har.?

?Don?t be so uptight. What happened to your sense of humor, Jovey??

?You call me that, I get to call you ?Lucy?.?

The man chuckled.

?That?s more like it. Anyway, down to business. I?m sure you?ve heard about the incident with the Earth realm.?

?Just heard about it. Sounds like something you would pull, you bastard.?

All joviality exited the guest?s face.

?Jove, I may be sadistic, manipulative, and power-hungry, but you know as well as I do that I?m not an idiot. This system of ours has been in place for longer than I care to remember, and we?ve had PEACE in that time! Peace, for Your sake! Whoever heard of angels and demons living in peace?! Why would I throw that away?!?

He raised His eyebrows, startled by this outburst.

?You may not think so, but I am no longer the type to risk total war for my own petty gain. You taught me my lesson.?

Jove nodded.

?Good that you learned; I?d hate for you to have to redo the class.?

The two sat in silence as the guest collected himself.

?What do you propose to do, Jove??

?Same thing we?ve always done in a crisis: rely on the system. Elect a new official.?

?Won?t work. This is the first time in the history of the system that we?ve had a death in office. If we run an election, both sides will accuse the other of orchestrating the killing in a power grab. We?ve already had casualties from people trying to claim the position by force. We need something drastic.?

Jove took a sip from His glass, offering some to His guest as He replied.

?What do you have in mind??


--


Welcome to the Republic of Heaven.

For a long time, Heaven and Hell did what Heaven and Hell are expected to do; that is, jihad the fuck out of each other. One day, however, one guy had the idea to end the bloodshed and established a Republican system of government, where angels and demons are assigned their own personal areas of governance while a grand council, led by the Christian God, determines matters of interdimensional import.

It was working great, right up until some jackass went and offed the guy in charge of Earth.

There was a brief, violent struggle for the position of God of Earth, but eventually tensions calmed down enough for the big chiefs, God and Satan, to come up with a plan: a grand tournament, like in the days of yore.

At God?s orders, Gabriel placed his horn to his lips and blew. All worthy, be they demons, angels, demigods, or mortals, heard the blast, with instructions on where to go and what to do to enter.

Of course, if a worthy one is killed on his way, the obviously more-worthy killer will hear the message.

It can?t be politics without double-dealing, however. Secret emissaries from God and Satan have begun to find ringers, ones not judged worthy to enter but immensely powerful.

Who killed him?
Who?s going to be a god?

The shit has hit the fan, and like good, honest men, we?re solving the problem with violence.

The basic rules are similar to the previous Ratings Wars. You each write an entry depicting your character defeating your opponent?s. You may also have two characters acting as a tag-team.

CHANGES THIS TIME AROUND:

There will be a central area, Purgatory, reminiscent of the first Ratings War, where competitors gather between matches. This is actually a test of mental strength; if a peaceful man is forced to kill his opponent, he cannot just forget it. He is forced to ponder and question his actions as he waits. This is to help allow for character mingling.

Arenas will be created for individual matches, but will fall into one of three categories: Infernal, Mortal, and Divine. Infernal and Divine arenas will take place in domains culled from popular myth or imagination, while Mortal arenas are completely up to my choice.

You no longer need your opponent?s permission to kill their character, but please be respectful to them when killing.

All interested parties have ten days to submit a character and an introduction post, detailing them either hearing Gabriel?s call and performing an act I?m leaving up to your imaginations to be drawn into Purgatory, killing one who heard the call and performing the aforementioned act, or being approached by a divine or hellish emissary and performing the aforementioned act.

Have fun, kiddoes.



ENTRANTS:
Bling Cat (sent me his stuff early)
Crowghast
Ultrajosephine
Dastardos
Wesdabigman
Mshcherbatskaya
SargentToughie
Vanguard1219
Mookie_Magnus
RagnarokTres
Labyrinth
Lord Krunk
Armitage Shanks
Rogueshadows
Qayin
Newclassic
Zemalac
vid20
Meatspace
The_Logician19

NOTE: If I have missed you, please inform me.

 

[Dastardos]

My sheet will be posted tomorrow.
I'm very very excited.

 

[Crowghast]

Spoiler: In nomine patris et filii spiritus sancti...

I don't usually pray in Latin, but I thought it'd be necessary.

Anyway, my new character will need some backstory.

I already posted this in the RWII (Post 641), but i'm reposting it here in case someone missed it, and also since it's a great story that I spent [i\]forever[/i] working on.

I think it introduces my new character effectively, and retires Tanner with some respect.

Brace for impact, this shit's huge.

In Ireland, on a secluded little hillock in the forests, in a house that appeared to be well past it's prime...

Sitting, solemn and in silence, Tanner took inattentive sips of tea. He was back home, the same he once had as a child. Way back, when life was simple, the world was infinite, and his daily struggles were helping the neighbours with odd jobs, doing chores about the house, greeting his parents when they got home, playing with friends before dinner, and then bed. The building had changed very little, to his surprise, it was still small and unimpressive, but with a comforting aura of quaint times and better days before. The bullet holes in the walls were still there, and the door that had been kicked from it's hinges was still laying in the hallway...

The greasy food stains spilt on the floor were still present, as well as the broken glass, the burn scars from the molotovs, the upturned furniture, and the ruin of the ceiling punched in from an impromptu grenade, the shingles still strewn out in the yard.

The only real change was the increased decay and the missing bones of his family.

In the past he had been hesitant... more afraid of returning here. It was in this home that his life took a turn for the stranger, and his purpose, meaning, and reason was layed out in random cards. He chose a card and called it his salvation.

Later, it was proven wrong.

A random choice by a random man, for a perceived random event.

And none of it was random at all.

How life does the change in the blink of an eye... or after several hours of heated debate with a voice in your head that has a physical form.

He wondered how the Sandman faired after that... what was his return like? Did he come home to the desert, to a small, quaint mud-brick village? Within it the shards of an event that had forged his future?

Tanner hoped that those shards were a wife and child that had been waiting for an eternity to see him.

It was there, with the beautiful image of a family waiting at a doorstep, his doorstep now, that Tanner realized, he had wasted his life.

Reeling a little from this thought, he raised an eyebrow and sneered in contempt at himself, he gave a groan of disgust, and threw the tea-cup at the floor.

He leaned forward and rubbed his temples, watching the mental slide-show of the people he had helped, tried to help, the people he failed to help, the countless men and women who had served as targets of his charity.

Those deserving and unworthy alike had earned unfaltering generosity and whether or not he received nothing or something, whether it be a pat on the back, a check with twelve digits, a cold stare and a harsh word, or a smack upside the head and kick in the shins... Tanner had never felt either good or bad for any of it.

He had pretended emotion, he had assumed ideals, morals.

"Humanity earns this", "humanity deserves that".

"They should be loathed", "they should be loved".

Now, situated here, at the very inception of the untold story of Tanner's life, he finally mustered a resolution:

Despite whatever he had done for who, and for whatever ostensibly "empathic" or ridiculously mawkish reason he had flittering in his deranged, grieving mind brought about by whatever damning need for whatever it was that would ease his troubles and loss on which day when...

he was still just Tanner O'Dare.

A tired, sick, sad, and jobless Irishman with no means and no love.

It was apparent now that the best thing that had ever happened to him was that tournament. Better was that he had been pitted against the right enemy, with the right reasons.

He would've called that "random chance" before.

It may have been, but right now, he had that feeling.

And right now, he felt that the unseen hand of God would be more comforting than the infinite probability drive.

He rubbed his temples, deep in contemplation, and winced when the burns gave a twang of pain. His last battle in the tournament... a weak-kneed parlor magician with a funny fire-trick had taken him down embarrasingly quick, and with very little conversation.

He wondered what happened to himself. What? What came over him... it felt like his reservoir of unshakable will had been emptied like so many buckets of water over a wildfire, to do nothing but instantly evaporate.

Accompanying that was the intense feeling that he had earned someone's ire.

He disliked it, but felt he wouldn't grudge whoever it was... another "intense feeling" of understanding took him next.

He lay on the dusty floor, sprawling, and forced himself to smile, wondering what the next "intense feeling" would be.

Keeping his face in that expression, he attained it. Happiness.

Maybe being home, maybe his internal struggle to explain himself, or maybe the tea had calmed his nerves...

Whatever it was, at least it was sincere.

Finally.

"You're such a sap."

He stirred, shifting his weight to one elbow, and turning to the source of the voice.

He saw nobody, he hit his ear with the heel of his palm, repeatedly, and then cupped his hand around it. Listening intently, he could hear footsteps outside.

But those were the steps of men who wished not to be heard... why would they go out of their way to inform him he was a sap?

"I'd ask you to make a second guess, but you're likely to reply with something more stupid than before, here's a hint: I'm in your head."

Funny, the voices came back, they usually didn't return for at least another... month or so.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, stating it as though to someone who actually existed.

"I don't want to tell you your business, but you're going down the wrong road. Here, brooding on your life, when you could be doing something important."

He absorbed the words, and replied. "Well, I have only just realized this, I thought i'd take some time to think." He stretched again, and stood up, putting a hand on the holster at his hip.

"Don't give me that, when have you ever thought about anything when lives were on the line? I remember you rushing forward with daring courage and improvised bravado to do little more than save a kitten from a tree. And NOW you start thinking about things?"

Tanner smiled at that memory, but reverted his face to a stolid, brooding appearance.

"You need to ACT. I don't care what kind of blithering stupid idea you have now, whatever philosophy of life you have, you are going to help people somehow. And you're going to do it actively. This isn't for them, this isn't for your family. It's got nothing to do with YOU."

Tanner felt a twitch in his mouth. He knew where this was going, and put up his hand to mock "blah blah blah".

"This is about the greater good of humanity. You, sir, are one of the rarest humans in the world. One with the guts to do work without payment in mind."

"Or any significant reward at all, you know, something like, feeling good about it?"

"What? You've never felt ANYTHING since... 'you know what' happened. You've always been content with pretending. Why is that different now?"

He turned to look inwards at himself. And then spoke. "Because i've only just realized that. I want to fix all the things i've done-"

"FIX?! Fix WHAT?! Fix saving lives? Fix aiding others? Fix-"

"By FIX I mean't to set straight what man could've done for himself."

"And what about what man couldn't do for himself?"

Tanner opened his mouth, and closed it. He wracked his mind for those words, those words that could get him out of this awkward conversation. He couldn't find them.

"Have you ever thought, for once, that you might be the last good man on Earth?"

"Sometimes." He said dolorously.

"After. AFTER you had your little revelation, after you stopped your search for someone like you?"

Tanner didn't feel like saying 'no'. It was written on his face. "I just don't feel like it anymore, I can't bring myself to do it. I'm resigning."

"Resigning? Resigning?! From WHAT?! What exactly are you resigning from? What is your letter of resignation going to say? 'I do not feel like helping people anymore because my EGO has finally SURFACED after THIRTY YEARS of THOUGHTLESS SERVITUDE to a misguided sense of compassion for the world?!!' Is that what it'll say?"

"Not exactly, but it's close." Tanner waved away the voice's argument with indifference.

"You... YOU... Y-... Y-... AHRRRG!"

Tanner tumbled, holding his head in sudden pain. He started screaming, his skull felt ready to split in half. Thrashing on the floor, pounding it with his fists until they were bloody, trying to redirect the pain...

And it stopped.

An "intense feeling" of exhaustion too place inside him. A strange, blue mist escaped from his eyes. He watched it mingle in the dust, before it took shape.

It looked like him... a younger version of him. An angry, younger version of him.

"You! I'm DONE with you! You had best DIE alone and unloved with a TUBE in your throat if you ever want me to be happy for you!"

The spirit of his inner voice floated away. And Tanner felt... sullied and highly uncomfortable.

The footsteps outside quickened a little. Tanner looked out, and a bullet ricocheted off the window sill.

Ducking, he retrieved his side-arm, flicked the safety, and held it ready. Keeping in mind the position he saw the men in, he calculated how far they would have moved, what cover they could have taken, if they have their weapons ready.

Deducing they were heading for him full-speed with guns drawn, he rose, and took aim.

As a hail of bullets tore through the wall.

Falling down in a heap of ruptured holes, spurting blood and failing organs. Tanner stared at his ceiling... in his house... the place of the beginning... at the end.

In walked three masked men, each wearing BDU's and holding assualt rifles. One of them spoke code words into a headset in his helmet. Tanner couldn't understand any of the words. And from his vantage point, he noticed they started swirling in wide arcs, dipping their heads down in great circles... their colors started going bright... dull... bright... saturating with the background. One of them spoke more code, something like, mocks rot... you n' corn... marley... keel low... something else... something else...

Tanner couldn't turn to look at anything else, he had one too many rounds stuck in his neck. They perforated most of his upper body, and had almost snapped off his arm. His thoughts became more incoherent, and he found it hard to take in information.

One of the men ran over and checked his pulse. He nodded his head and whispered into a headset, he nodded again and turned to the other two men. In a hushed, no-nonsense tone, he spoke. "This one's still alive, i'll take care of him. You both move in and check for tangos, grease anything you see. Once the building's clean, we pull out. Got it? Now move out."

The other two nodded and ran off.

Tanner hadn't even had a chance to check the rest of the house. He only just walked into the kitchen and dining room three hours ago. He shouldn't have wasted so much time thinking.

Too late for that now.

He heard gunshots from somewhere in the house. Was something else here? What could they possibly be shooting at? Tanner had a sudden fear that they were defiling the remains of his family, or something like that. He started to struggle against his broken body.

Forcing his good arm to the otherside, he rolled himself over, and pushed himself onto his knees.

His head tilted down, limp, and he smirked at his own resilience. Looking at the damage, he was half stunned to still be alive. "Huh... maybe, six, seven bullets had torn through the neck and spine. Thirteen, maybe fourteen through his torso, possibly fifteen. Of those possible fifteen, he figured most of them had gone through his lungs, and maybe... five or so were lodged in other places. One of them was in an artery, another might've been in his liver.

He didn't know which wound hurt less.

He always figured, that being shot full of holes would be painful.

It was, on the contrary, quite pleasant.

He had never felt so dead.

Feeling alive was, to him, becoming a threadbare sensation.

This feeling of hanging on the verge of expiration... was compelling. It made him want to struggle to live.

Looking to his right, he saw that his shoulder and arm were the most damaged. Mutilated was a better term, as the appendage hung by little more than the gossamer veins of ruined muscles and one or two shards of bone.

He felt the shadow of an arm there, but, the nerves that his brain reached for weren't there.

It was a distinctly unnerving tingle that shivered around a phantom limb.

Unable to turn his head, he swiveled his eyes to see the third man. He was busy smoking, markedly inattentive to Tanner's anomalous movements.

Reaching, straining his good arm to extend, he tried to grab his pistol, which had flown five feet away from him after the first volley, and had settled under the dining table. He reached, and reached. Falling back onto his face, he crawled, using his intact legs to push him, and reach for all he was worth.

The man had finally noticed, pausing after a long drag from his cigarette, and shouted. "Hey! Stop right there, you! Stop your moving!"

Tanner's senses heightened, and his movements became more desperate, he winced his eyes and reached.

The world had become him, the floor, and the pistol. He was in a black abyss, in front of him was that pistol. That pistol. He needed it, because in this void, he felt another prescense, something that would kill him if he did not retrieve the pistol. If he could not reach it, everything he had come to learn over the years, everything he had finally pieced together after his long repose, would be for nothing.

"That's it, I warned you!"

The man took aim down his sight and fired once.

Tanner heard the crack of the gunshot, the expulsion of the case, heard the whisp of heat, and felt a sickening crunch that could only be his skull caving in.

He had experienced his mind leaving his body.

And was still alive.

Tanner screamed. For the second time today, he screamed.

The man who had made the hole sighed, a sigh of relief. He lowered his rifle as the other two walked in. "Get back to work, it's all under control." He told them, in the same dry and pragmatic tone. "Tried to crawl off, I... stunned him."

Tanner was in abject, paralyzing terror. He made a wretched, wheezing sound, as though of hyperventilating. He continued to do so, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

The good one.

The man with the serious tone shouted over. "Hey kid! Oliver! Next time, try to stay away from our objectives! [i\]Especially[/i] if we have to kill people there."

The person named Oliver held Tanner's shoulder tightly.

He spoke to him with a blank face and a monotone voice. With a tinge of apology, and just a hint of sadness, se said:

"Sorry about the mess."

Tanner wanted to say "no".

But managed only to close his eyes.

Spoiler: There you have it.

I'll have the whole character sheet and Oliver's bio and [i\]personal[/i] intro done either later tonight, or next morning.

 

[Fightgarr]

I think I would like to observe this competition, and if I think I could make a valid contribution I may join in on the next ratings war. This seems like an interesting competition.
...and I wouldn't even play a dragon

 

[Mookie_Magnus]

Seems like fun. I might actually make a character for this.

 

[Ultrajoe]

Forewrd: Great, here i go with angel/demon symbolism and all of a sudden i'm dealing with actual angels. Bollocks.


Act 1: Fall

Chapter 1: Fallen

-After the fall, before the angels-

'I'll ask again. What is your name?' comes the droned question. You can almost see the foggy inconsequence of the words, shown up in the dim, yellow bulb-light of the 'interview room'. Bleached white walls, a grey table, two dark chairs. Another depressing room in an asylum of depressing rooms. They called it medium security, but the guards didn't worry too much; these were men trapped inside their own mind more completely than any amount of barred windows could achieve.

Watch out, you could go crazy in here.

The speaker?s eyes are unfocused, locked imbecilely on an internal schedule that shone steadily towards the time when he could return to the comforting dullness of his home. The sweat in his pits serves as a testament to a hard eight hours, the sweat that runs down the crack of his ass testament to just how easy those eight hard hours were. He asks for the name again, rolling the phrase around his bloated jowls before breathing it over the face of the prisoner across from him, my face. Everyone fucking loves nutjob duty, we never talk and nobody expects us to talk, to him it?s half an hour with each peanut before they wheel them off to whichever local grinder they kept them stored in. The man rubs his watch nervously, running the cheap shit he thinks is gold around his pale, pasty wrist; he hasn?t been outside except to park his ass in his car for fifteen fucking years.

The clock behind my left shoulder keeps drawing his eyes, swivelling in their sunken pits. I wonder if he knows it?s rolled over for daylight savings, and he should have left fifteen minutes ago? It?s hilarious. Not that he has anything to go home too, mind you, I?d bet money that the last time he rubbed his cock against a woman was when his wife kicked his balls good morning. Kicked his balls good morning, that?s funny. I should write that down somewhere. The chuckle creeps out of me before I can stop it, but it feels too good to stop now, it must have been weeks since I last had a good laugh.

He doesn?t like my laughing, because he?s heard the stories, they all have. You don?t do fucknut rounds without perving through at least a filing cabinet of reports and psyche evaluations per patient, a legal and disgusting voyeurism into everything we are. Sure as shit he?s read the one on my laughter, and probably one on how many hairs there are on my balls. I?m guessing if you took all the paper that he works with daily, and rolled it up onto a cardboard tube, you?d have just enough to wipe the expanse of his ass for one sitting. Oh man, today I?m on a roll, but then again I haven?t had a more perfect subject matter for months, this fat shit is actually too pathetic for me to hate, even with him stealing his way into my reports. Not that he?s read my report, however, because when you don?t expect victory there?s no point in preparation. This man stinks of someone eternally under-prepared.

?What?s funny?? He says, the patchy underside of his chins twitching in indignant confusion. He?s rubbing his watch again, was it a present? That watch intrigues me, what the fuck is so god damned important about it? I should ask if he can add that to my report, pointless habits drive me nuts.

?Help me settle a bet? I say to him, and the ape nearly falls out of his god damned seat. He blinks as if flickering his eyes will shoo away the words from someone not supposed to speak. ?Last time you touched a woman was when your wife kicked you in the balls, right?? I ask, with the deadpan I had made infamous. Jesus, you?d think I?d sung the fucking score to ?Cats?. His mouth just keeps making nervous chewing motions, which would explain why he?s on the last notch of his belt, he?s a man who has no concept of self-control. No, that?s not it. I know the indulgent, they don?t anger me, and t turns out this man does fill me with rage I haven?t felt since they threw me in here. ?Come on, last time you slipped any part of your sorry ass in a hole was when you shoved your kielbasa-digits down your throat to make yourself throw up that burnt toast you had for breakfast, right??

Do you know, I have no idea how long it?s been since I last spoke? It must have been a while, since the fleshy, sorry excuse for a man is practically shitting himself in his chair. He rubs his watch again, which is really starting to piss me off. He clutches for his precious paperwork, the sheer shock of success so alien that he can?t cope with it. There?s three things I cannot stand, are those are apathy, people, and angels.

This ass barely qualifies as human, but he has more than enough apathy to make me want to shove that watch into the cavity behind his eye. I can feel his question, it?s working it?s way up his well trained oesophagus and already I can feel the nervous spittle on my face. I have to give him credit, he gathers enough testicles to say it with some dignity. ?What is your name?? He asks.

?Disturbed teen kills 3? I say, and the old familiar thrill of getting inside a head comes rushing back. It?s like riding lightning, it?s like playing god except the bearded man is your *****, mistress and caddy. He blinks, and rubs that god-damned watch again. ?Costumed Killer Claims Family? I quote from memory, and he flicks through my report to find the headlines. I know them by heart, and shit this feels good. I can feel eyes on me as the pervert camera on the wall feeds my words straight to the people who matter, the Angels. ?My personal favourite is from the Herald? I say, and he flicks to the article. He reads it, and reads it again, and then flicks back to page one that?s been staring at his fucking face for the past fucking fifteen minutes but he couldn?t be bothered to fucking read.

?Is that why you use this name?? He asks, and he leans forward in anticipation. Wheels are turning in that padded head now, and he?s starting to ask questions again. Playtime is over, the petting zoo is closed before I even got to feed this walrus. Not a total loss, however, it?s at least seven times funnier to watch him grapple with the silence that he was willing to endure only 30 seconds ago. I should talk more. Interesting people show up when I talk, the perverts behind the cameras. The buzz is in my blood, the thrill of knowing that even with my arms strapped to my sides I can dig my fingers into their grey matter.

The man stares into my eyes, confused and bewildered at words he should have dreamt of. If there?s one thing I know, it?s people. I know people as only a predator truly can... and I love having my questions answered.

Spoiler: Behind the Visor

Eviljoe is written as a stand-alone storyline, which is a stupid thing to do when you are inherently intwined with that of others. With something like this as a novel, i would throw caution to the wind and allow you to be confused for long periods of time, but that is not a possibility here. For that reason, 'Behind the Visor' exists to help you understand the story not by giving away the plot (If you don't get it, chances are i meant you to not get it) but by helping you grasp why certain things are how they are. Any important points will be discussed here at the end of each chapter.

Chapters: 20+ pages in one go doesn't work.
Swearing: Eviljoe isn't a mustache twirler, he's a person who has undergone something traumatic, that we will soon watch. This part of the story takes place after that event, and so he is in his 'proper' frame of mind. That frame of mind is angry, very angry. He isn't supposed to be an infallible philosopher like Vherran, or uncaring wall like Ultraknight, he's a person, and he's pissed. Swearing is his method of outburst from an inherently powerless position, a prisoner.
Angels: I had already established a rather deep-run Angel motif through the story, the new setting can get itself damned before i go and find a way to take it out. I'll tie it in at some point, but for now, don't assume it has anything to do with the setting. Eviljoe, in this piece, has not taken part in RW3.
Helmless: They don't let you wear evil black armor in a mental institution.
Male: I gave serious thought to a female Eviljoe, imagining I might have some idea on how to do it. However, things got a little weird and i reverted back to writing a male. Don't ask. You'd think i could pull it off.

 

[Ultrajoe]

Evilthoughts:

1) What is being done about deadlines?
2) Is there an official strategy to allow the defeated to continue to write?
3) Will there be character quality control?
4) What's your upper limit on brutality? (I'll be aiming for it, in places)

 

[The Sorrow]

Evilthoughts:

1) What is being done about deadlines?
2) Is there an official strategy to allow the defeated to continue to write?
3) Will there be character quality control?
4) What's your upper limit on brutality? (I'll be aiming for it, in places)

1. Ten days per match. I'm in another tournament and that's worked fine for it.
2. Pretty much free reign. Keep in mind, when you die, you're going to Heaven, Hell, or somewhere in between. You could (quite literally) come back in spirit.
3. Yes. Mary-Sues, fancharacters, and all-around shitty charactes will be turned away at the door.
4. Rip their balls off. Just be respectful about it.

 

[Lord Krunk]

Spoiler: Introduction/Character Stats

Axle stepped lightly through the winding corridors of the hidden temple. He was exhausted, and made more so by the unconscious woman that he held over his shoulder. He was curious, however, as to why The Hunger was so interested in such a plain person; there was nothing it could see in her that was worth noticing, especially considering The Hunger?s interest in those that transcend the ordinary. And yet, it commanded him to kidnap her alive. This was a mercy that it did not give any ordinary sacrifice, and the reason why he had been summoned to perform such a task. She was important for something, but what?

He pondered this as he trod through the ancient Bronze gates of the sanctum, to be greeted by 13 hooded figures, the Guardians of The Shadow. One of them, a slender and pasty silhouette in the light of the ritual fires, stepped toward him cautiously. As the figure raised its hands, he ? or she ? spoke out in a high, raspy voice. The other 12 that stood behind the figures chanted in unison, unveiling the intimidating demeanour of the temple that Axle knew so well.

?He is waiting on the other side, and we all know that He does not like to wait. You have the girl??

Axel stepped to the platinum disc that shone in the centre of the ritual room. The hooded figures took their places around the disc and began the summoning chant. The disc dulled and faded to a deep black, the flames began to flicker and the shadows around them started to shift and congregate at the centre of a room, morphing into a shimmering, snakelike being. The back of Axle?s neck stood on end every time he saw The Hunger in its metaphysical form, no matter how many times he saw it.

?She is here, correct?? it asked in a booming voice, drowning out the chants around it.

?Yes, Great Shadow. I, Axel of the Nihilistic Cult, have tracked down the girl and brought her as a sacrifice, as you requested.?

?Good. Axle, do me a favour and dismiss my tiresome fans for me? I require followers, but I feel an urge to devour them this hour.?

The hooded figures bowed to the shadow beast and marched through the bronze gates, which closed behind them. Axel stood still as The Hunger swept around the girl, examining her person thoroughly.

?Completely unharmed; you are excellent at your job. I have uses for someone of your? skills, Axle.?

?Great Shadow, I am truly honoured to-?

But his words were cut short by a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

She was stirring.

The Hunger, however, was not surprised. In fact, it looked rather pleased. After all, it had asked for the girl alive and unharmed. The girl got up, looking around her frantically.

?Where? where am I??

She screamed as she looked behind her, to see the snakelike figure of the Great Shadow looming over her. It stared into her eyes for a brief period, and began to speak.

?The question is not of where you are, but why you are here.? It said in a soothing voice. The girl did not blink for a second; Axle could not tell whether she was entranced by its unnerving elegance or scared stiff. ?You heard the sound of a horn a few days ago, correct? One that sounded unearthly, like a call to arms??

She nodded shakily. ?But? what are you??

The creature looked away, a split second of irritation showing on its face. ?I will remind you that you are in no place to be asking questions, but I see no harm in explaining my? troubled existence to you.?

It slithered around the disc, coming to a halt as she was completely encircled by shadow. It tilted its head up, nodding in the direction of a brilliant light that shone above them.

?I am lust. I am hunger. I have many names, but those that reside here prefer to call me the Great Shadow. This realm is not my home, as I have been consistently reminded by the demons? relentless actions against anomalies such as myself. I came from a crack in reality, the very one that you see above you.?

She glanced around the area, squinting through the shadows that surrounded her. Her eyes eventually fell upon Axle, who merely stood aside and viewed the proceedings. He liked her, but he did not like her enough to deprive the Great Shadow of its feed.

?Now that I have answered your question, you can answer mine. Who are you??

The woman?s frightened look changed to a grimace as she hesitantly identified herself.

?I? I am Lady Athena. I have many talents in the field of fighting, and a black belt in 15 different martial arts. Is that all that you need to know??

The creature turned away from her. Axle knew that the Great Shadow was contemplating something; usually it would not hesitate before devouring its victims. What was the importance of her hearing the horn? Why would The Hunger wish for her life to be spared? What was the purpose of his being here?

In a snap, the creature turned around, eying the girl hungrily. She tried to scream, but within seconds it had twisted itself into a string and forced itself into the girl?s mouth. After the creature had completely disappeared down her throat, she collapsed to the floor. Axle was shocked; he had never seen it eat someone like that before.

Axle stepped over to the girl?s limp body, picking her up and carrying her to the Altar of Sacrifice. After he had placed her there, he turned and started to leave through the entrance from whence he came.

?Stop.?

Turning around, he saw the girl sitting up on the altar, flexing her limbs and motioning for Axle to return to his previous position. She looked different from before; her skin paled from a light tan to sheet white, flowing raven hair and black irises, the darkest black that he had ever seen. She smiled at him awkwardly, baring her teeth as she stood up and started to walk around the area. After a while, she came to a halt in front of Axle and gestured toward her body.

?So? how do I look??

Axle was too amazed to answer her question, backing away from her swiftly.

?No one has survived an onslaught by The Great Shadow! What are you??

She pouted.

?Idiot. I?m the Great Shadow. Don?t you recognise me??

He stopped backing away, and glared at her quizzically.

?I?m afraid that I didn?t. I?m sorry if I offended-?

?Perfect; if a mortal can?t identify me, then those paper-pushers upstairs will be easy to fool. We are ready for invasion; The Feeding is upon us!?

Axle used this opportunity to step towards her.

?Great Shadow, what are your intentions for a mortal body??

She smiled a knowing smile. Axle was impressed; she was getting used to her physical form quickly.

?The girl?s ears have befallen the Horn of Jove, a call to meet the man himself. I have always dreamed of devouring a god; I can only assume that He is a fine delicacy. However, my new physical form is fragile. That?s where you come in.?

He nodded in confusion.

?Anything for the Great Shadow. But what may a humble servant like myself do to serve??

?You shall pose as my bodyguard, and will refer to me as Lady Athena from now on.?
Axle nodded and bowed before his mistress, now sure that whatever the Great Shadow had planned, it was his duty to protect her at all costs.

Athena grinned. ?And so it begins. We shall prepare for the night; after all, I must wear something a little more? suitable for battle. Afterwards, let The Feast of Champions commence!?

?As you wish, My Lady.?

?You?re a fast learner.?

And so the two stepped out of the gates to prepare for the battles that lay ahead of them. Axle wondered who he would face; who Lady Athena would devour. But most of all, he wondered about the girl. Was she still alive in that body?

Spoiler: Lady Athena/The Hunger

Name: Lady Athena (alias)

Nickname: Many names; The Hunger, Lust etc. The Nihilistic Cult refers to it as the Great Shadow.

Gender: Female

Age: Athena: 23, Hunger: Timeless

Appearance: Elegant, yet one would also describe her as ghostly. She is extremely pale post-possession, accentuated by her black hair and eyes.

Clothing: She wears customised army uniform (dark camo pants, a lightweight T-shirt and heavy duty boots), but also wears a leather jacket and sunglasses to cover up her aforementioned peculiarities.

Equipment: She conceals a dagger and two pistols on her person; the dagger in the heel of her boot and the pistols in hidden pockets of her jacket. These are only last-resort weaponry, however; she prefers to use her hands in combat.

Abilities: Athena is a talented martial artist, and quite possibly the most skilled unarmed fighter to grace her era. She is not one who you would want to cross, unless it?s from a distance.
The Hunger, however, has a much darker power. It absorbs and consumes those it defeats (hence the name), and thus steals its victims? most desirable qualities. As a result, Athena will become more and more powerful as she progresses through the rounds, so you guys had better get creative should she do just that.

Story: The Hunger is an anomaly, the product of a breach in the Void of Reality, the very same place where Jove created the universe. As a result it is neither mortal nor immortal; something that cannot exist. Similar breaches have been made before him, but the heavens have been quite efficient in closing the gaps and erasing any anomaly that threatens their existence. The Great Shadow, despite its lust to devour the powerful, has avoided their view by only preying on the weak and biding its time until it could challenge the gods themselves.

Over time, the hollowed shells of those it had feasted on had accumulated into a substantial cult, who built a temple around the breach in the Great Shadow?s honour.

It heard the Horn of Jove calling out to him, but it knew that in its present state it could not show itself; it devised a plan to possess another Champion and take her place so that it could get ever closer to the delicacy that it so longed to taste.

Notes: Remember that no one but Axle knows the truth of Lady Athena. Use and interpret this however you may.

Spoiler: Axle

Name: Axle (No last name)

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Appearance: Strong-looking, broad-shouldered and muscly. His head is bald and his back bears a strange insignia. He does not know where the insignia has come from; he believes it to be an odd birthmark or tattoo.

Clothing: He wears a dark hooded cloak, and armours himself with Kevlar jackets and trousers underneath.

Equipment: He fights with his hands much in the same fashion as Athena, but also bears an obsidian katana on his person; a gift from The Hunger that was crafted from the Void itself. It can physically harm, much like a regular blade, but is far harder and sharper than any earthly weaponry. However, a stab through the heart allows it to drain the soul of those it kills, which he gives to his mistress.

Abilities: Axle is merely a skilled, strong and smart fighter, but not one of consequence. The main reason why The Hunger is interested in him is because of his devotion and inability to kill; a restriction that suits it due to the fact that it prefers to feast on souls rather than merely physical manifestations.

Story: Axle?s family was kidnapped by the Nihilistic Cult when he was a baby and devoured by the Great Shadow. It decided not to eat him, however, preferring to train his incomplete and immature soul from an early age to become a powerful warrior and servant (like preparing a delicious meal with the finest ingredients). Over the years, he has proven to be The Hunger?s greatest asset, and has thus used him as a conduit and link to the world beyond his temple.

Axle is incredibly loyal to his master as he has not been trained morality, nor does he truly understand the creature that he feeds. What he does know is that he is the only Occultist retaining a soul, and he is grateful for that. However, he refuses to kill. One would say that this is a shred of morality that he has kept over his years, but others say that Axle was trained this way from birth to sate the needs of his mistress.

I don?t know if anyone has a problem with me playing two characters at once (not as separate rounds, more like a tag team), but please speak up on your thoughts.

The intention for this is to force the opponent to get creative; to make something as entertaining as Khedive Rex?s Grand Final entry against me.

Another thing is to do something that I have never done before: Romance. Seriously, I need to work on it, and this is a great place if any.

Also, the two are there to promote character development in both my characters and your own.

Finally, I like interactivity. Deal with it.

Spoiler: Jericho's Gambit

Jericho slammed his fist down on the desktop in irritated rage.

?Bad day at the office?? asked another angel in the cubicle next to him.

?You wouldn?t believe.? he sighed. ?I?m looking at it one second, and the next it?s gone! Just like that!?

?You had better get onto it quick. Don?t want Mr. B to find out that you?ve lost your client. Your job?s on the line if you don?t get it back.?

He was right. While the top reporters were away to cover the sudden death of Sol III?s God, the boss had set up a competition for the new people; one to find the best, most controversial story possible and write an article on it. Until this point, he was well in the lead; he had found a story so juicy, the tabloids wouldn?t forget it any time soon.

He had found an Anomaly that the department had overlooked for centuries.

All he needed was to observe it further, to track it to the story of a lifetime. It didn?t know it, but The Hunger was his ticket into the big leagues.

That was until its disappearance. He rewound the tape and played it back, but the same result came up. A sudden pop, and the two figures were gone.

Maybe I should turn the sound up?

?Hey!? called a familiar voice from the hallway. Jericho sighed.

?What now, Job? I?m a little busy here, can?t you see that??

?Well, yeah, but I thought you might want to check out the contest. Satan himself is planning the proceedings!?

He knew it was tempting, but he also knew he was a few steps away from an eternity of shovelling cumulonimbus.

?Thanks for the offer, but I need to get this done.?

Job shrugged in disappointment. ?Suit yourself, but I?ll save you a seat anyway!?

As he left, Jericho banged his head against the desk.

Think. Think! What at the moment would make someone poof away like that?

He paused, looked up, and went wide-eyed.

A few minutes later, he was sitting above the Arenas with Job, zooming in on the contestants with his camera.

Where are you?

He stuck out his hand as a pimply demon swooped towards him, and he handed over some money for a catalogue. Job leaned over to him.

?It?s shocking how much they want for arbitrary stuff these days. 5 halos for a catalogue? I?m surprised that you bothered.?

Jericho opened the catalogue regardless, scouring the sheet for names.

Lex, Henry? Eviljoe?

Eventually, his eyes fell upon an odd couple; Lady Athena and Axle, her oddly named bodyguard. He recognised the picture of Axle as The Shadow?s disciple immediately. The girl next to him had an odd complexion as well.

Gotcha.

He zoomed in on the two mortals, taking notes and making observations. He was devising stories in his head, his smile broadening.

This story just gets better; not only have they evaded this thing since its conception, but now they?re trying to make it God? The only thing that would make this any better is if it actually won?

He froze, deep in thought. Of course, there was the possibility of winning on their own, but he knew that there wasn?t much chance of two normals standing a chance against some of the badass tanks that stood in their way. What they needed was a little help?

From a guardian angel.

Jericho reached into his coat and pulled out a little device that he kept on his person at all times. It was a multi-purpose tool, crafted by the Quantum Mechanics in their particular heaven, that shapeshifted into anything that the owner wanted it to be. In his case, it took the form of a cigarette lighter when he wasn?t using it.

?We?ve been through a lot together, huh.? he said, gazing over the beautiful bronze inscriptions around the object.

It was a gift to him for his 2000[sup]th[/sup] birthday, and it was sad to see it go. But the promise of riches and fame beyond his wildest dreams were more important; he always wanted to secure his own plot of sky and set up a cloud farm one day.

?After this order, you no longer belong to me. You now belong to Axle of Sol III, competitor of the Divine Colosseum. Now, seek.?

And with that, he drew back his hand and threw the lighter into the arena. He hoped that it would make it to Axle, and he hoped even more that he would be able to use it.

I hope so. It?s not everyday that a guy tuns 2000.

Moving to pick up his camera, his eyes fell back to Job. He owed him a big deal; after all, he was the reason Jericho was even able to find a seat.

?Say, Job.?

?What??

?You found yourself a story yet??

?No, why??

?Well, I?ve got one for you. Do you want to uncover a cheating scandal that has eluded the judges of this competition??

?Well, yes! Thanks, I owe you one!?

Jericho sat back and gazed playfully at the clouds above him. Things were looking up.

Spoiler: Hunger in Paradise

Axle basked in the sunlight that danced around his face, admiring the tranquil and carefree nature that emanated form this little patch of heaven. He smiled as he thought of his life back on Earth, his life that felt so distant now. A life of secrecy, hiding and serving. A life of skulking in the shadows, waiting for The Hunger?s prey to come within his reach. It seemed so dull, so repetitive when he looked back on it; why had he not left his temple more frequently?

He was reminded of the answer as the sun?s glare was blotted out by the slender figure of a woman bending over to glare at him, her pitch-black hair dangling in a frame around her pale face. Athena was giving him a smirk coupled with a look of disapproval as she produced a small book and some receipt paper from her pockets.

?While you?ve been lounging around, I?ve been doing a bit of research. Might come in handy during our battles, you never know.?

She sat down next to him as he sat up; she daintily waved the piece of paper in front of his face. Axle was irritated, but he let none of it show on his face.

I must not disrespect the Great Shadow?

?What is that?? he finally asked, a slight quiver in his voice.

Athena shrugged. ?A list of local eateries we should stop off at on our trip.? He skimmed over the barely legible scrawl on the paper, which displayed a list of the 25 contestants? names. Some of them were portrayed next to each other, most likely to mean that the two would be fighting together like Athena and himself.

?Nice joke,? he chuckled. ?taken a look at them yet??

?Of course!? exclaimed the Great Shadow. ?I need to know what?s in my food before I start eating it. That?s why I brought a menu.?

She dropped the book on Axle?s lap. He picked it up and glanced at the pages inside, giving details on the contestants as well as the events prior to their arrival. He suddenly took interest, taking mental notes as his eyes skimmed over the pages.

----------------

Athena sighed, smirking as she glanced over at the various people that dotted the landscape, some training, some trying to get comfortable, and some in conversations with each other. It made her laugh, the fact that these people were acting so casually when they knew that death loomed ahead of them.

Bunch of nut-jobs, if you ask me.

She smiled. She?ll have to store that nut line among all of her other culinary jokes; she rather enjoyed them. After all, she was only here for the food.

Strange. I don?t remember having a sense of humour?

She shrugged the feeling off, knowing that it must have been a side effect of stealing a mortal body. And besides, how could laughter harm her?

----------------

Axle was buried deeply into the pages of the book, his mind absorbing every last bit of information that may be useful to their future fights. He knew from experience that every last detail was a possible victory; after all, his abduction of Lady Athena had not been an easy task.

?My Lady, something that has been irking me for quite some time. Why have you not devoured everyone right here, right now??

She pouted in frustration. ?I would love to, Axle, but chances are that I would get caught and banished from existence or merely disqualified for offing the competition early. And besides, I like to play with my food.?

Axle sighed. ?I suppose, but it means more work for me in the long run.?

?What have you found in the book??

?Quite a bit. You know one of our opponents has an exploding liver??

Athena suppressed a giggle. ?Should lay off the spicy stuff. I learned that after that one time I ate a Mexican; couldn?t get the taste out of my mouth for weeks!?

Axle chuckled, which quickly turned into a look of deep concentration as he began to hear an odd murmour in the breeze. He swiftly got up and glanced around him, trying to trace the sound.

Where is it coming from?

The sound began to get louder, reaching a crescendo. He began to make out the sound that was heading in his direction, even if he could not see where it was coming from.

It?s a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling ?No?
And her daddy has told her to go

He glanced around him, his eyes darting from place to place. The deathly girl who sat next to him, the man in black armour giving the bird to the clouds that circled above him and the angels that strolled around the area, making sure that no-one tried to start a round earlier than planned.

But her friend is nowhere to be seen
Now she walks through her sunken dream
To the seat with the clearest view
And she?s hooked to the silver screen

?You hear that?? he asked to Athena, who stared at him quizzically.

?No. Seriously, if you can hear something that I can?t, then something?s gone horribly wrong.?

But the film is a saddening bore
For she?s lived it ten times or more
She could spit in the eyes of fools
As they ask her to focus on

A chorus began to play around him as he stood up, frantically searching for whatever was making that noise. As Athena gave him a look of confusion, he remembered the first rule of stealth.

No one ever looks up.

As he raised his head, he noticed a small dot in the sky. As he examined the dot, it began to grow.

Shit.

A few seconds later, the airborne object collided with his head with the force of a sledgehammer.

Take a look at the lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh man! Wonder if he?ll ever know
He?s in the best selling show
Is there life on Mars?

------------------------

Axle felt the glare on his face as he opened his eyes. As he looked around him, the first thing he saw was Athena stooping over his person, a childish grin forming on her face. She pulled a small bronze object out of her pockets and spoke.

?Fool. A mistake like that on the field could cost you your life.?

His temples almost screamed with pain. ?What happened??

She tossed the bonze box onto his lap, standing up and making violent gestures like she was reciting the events of a tragedy. ?That thing fell out of the sky and smacked into your head; you?ve been out for nearly an hour. I don?t know where it came from, but it has your name on it.?

He picked it up and examined the object, running his fingers over the fine indentations in the flawless metal. Sure enough, an image of a sun was apparent on the back, spelling out four letters in a circle.

A. X. L. E. Sounds like it stands for something.

?Some of the memories I?ve absorbed indicate that it?s called a ?wireless radio?. I don?t know what the hell music will do to help us, but you never know.?

She was right, a speaker and telescopic antenna was protruding from the front, but to his confusion, there was no sign of an on/off button.

What on Earth is a radio, anyway?

He shrugged as he placed the radio on the inside pocket of his cloak. He was curious as to what it was, but now was not the time. After all, he had a lot of research to do.

?Mistress Athena??

?Yes??

?Please don?t make a ?the world is my oyster? joke while we?re here.?

She laughed as she took a mental note of the comment. That was too good a line to not use.

Spoiler: After Reading

Okay, this post was to give a display of the personalities of my two characters, as well as introduce some plot elements that I will (hopefully, I am fighting Ultrajoe first after all) introduce in later entries. So please do take note of Athena?s newfound personality, A.X.L.E. and the radio; they are important.

Also, proofreading and comments are welcome, if not, enforced. That?s right, I?ll send the Thought Police on your asses if you don?t; after all, I am a Conspirator.

Can anyone tell that I was watching Life on Mars when I was writing parts of this? The song has relevance to the competition in any case; ?the best selling show?. Maybe I was trying to subconsciously break the fourth wall?

In a few moments, I?ll have compiled all 3 of my important posts on the front page.

Spoiler: Round 1: Thirst For Evil

Round 1: Thirst For Evil (Axle/Athena vs. Evil) [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/362.107952.2190296]

Spoiler: PowerThirst

Plot development time! [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/362.107952.2591467]

Spoiler: Round 2: Game Hunting

Round 2: Game Hunting (Axle/Athena vs. Farfig/Mark) [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/362.107952.2838185]

Spoiler: Food For Thought

Setup for Round 3 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/362.107952.3251282]

Spoiler: Round 3: Dinner And A Show

Round 3: Dinner And A Show (Axle/Athena vs. The DJ) [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/362.107952.3283221]

 

[Khedive Rex]

Quick question. Is there a set era this is taking place in? So far it seems like present day but if it's possible I'd love to be able to go back about a century.

If the need arises I could have a demon zap me to the appropriate time-frame, I'd just need to know in advance if it's nessacary. Or legal.

Oh, and no character sheet yet but if anyone wants a short hint about my character: I like to think of him as Lawful Evil the way it's supposed to be played.

 

[The Sorrow]

Quick question. Is there a set era this is taking place in? So far it seems like present day but if it's possible I'd love to be able to go back about a century.

If the need arises I could have a demon zap me to the appropriate time-frame, I'd just need to know in advance if it's nessacary. Or legal.

Oh, and no character sheet yet but if anyone wants a short hint about my character: I like to think of him as Lawful Evil the way it's supposed to be played.

Psh. When there are asses to kick, time and space can go fuck themselves. No set era.

 

[Khedive Rex]

Quick question. Is there a set era this is taking place in? So far it seems like present day but if it's possible I'd love to be able to go back about a century.

If the need arises I could have a demon zap me to the appropriate time-frame, I'd just need to know in advance if it's nessacary. Or legal.

Oh, and no character sheet yet but if anyone wants a short hint about my character: I like to think of him as Lawful Evil the way it's supposed to be played.

Psh. When there are asses to kick, time and space can go fuck themselves. No set era.

Good to hear. Oh and sorry but I've got one more question. How touchy are we as a community on the subject of slavery? I doubt it will come into the fights but it is a fairly important part of my character's backstory and partially personality.

In essence, I'm echoing Ultrajoe's question about the limits of gore you'll accept. I made my character with the intent of being morally uncomforting rather than physically. How far can I go with that? Slavery? Racism? Sexism? Rape? Genocide?

I said it in the last thread but that was a while back so I'll say it again. No one is supposed to like my character. I would be quite disturbed if anybody did. I hate him and I'm the guy writing his entries.

Oh, and just because I feel guilty not having a character sheet up but posting anyway. His name is Lex. First person to make a Lex Luthor joke dies.

 

[Dastardos]

Quick question. Is there a set era this is taking place in? So far it seems like present day but if it's possible I'd love to be able to go back about a century.

If the need arises I could have a demon zap me to the appropriate time-frame, I'd just need to know in advance if it's nessacary. Or legal.

Oh, and no character sheet yet but if anyone wants a short hint about my character: I like to think of him as Lawful Evil the way it's supposed to be played.

Psh. When there are asses to kick, time and space can go fuck themselves. No set era.

Good to hear. Oh and sorry but I've got one more question. How touchy are we as a community on the subject of slavery? I doubt it will come into the fights but it is a fairly important part of my character's backstory and partially personality.

In essence, I'm echoing Ultrajoe's question about the limits of gore you'll accept. I made my character with the intent of being morally uncomforting rather than physically. How far can I go with that? Slavery? Racism? Sexism? Rape? Genocide?

I said it in the last thread but that was a while back so I'll say it again. No one is supposed to like my character. I would be quite disturbed if anybody did. I hate him and I'm the guy writing his entries.

Oh, and just because I feel guilty not having a character sheet up but posting anyway. His name is Lex. First person to make a Lex Luthor joke dies.

Is he bald and have a kryptonite obsession?

But I have rape in the backstory I'm currently writing.

 

[The Sorrow]

Quick question. Is there a set era this is taking place in? So far it seems like present day but if it's possible I'd love to be able to go back about a century.

If the need arises I could have a demon zap me to the appropriate time-frame, I'd just need to know in advance if it's nessacary. Or legal.

Oh, and no character sheet yet but if anyone wants a short hint about my character: I like to think of him as Lawful Evil the way it's supposed to be played.

Psh. When there are asses to kick, time and space can go fuck themselves. No set era.

Good to hear. Oh and sorry but I've got one more question. How touchy are we as a community on the subject of slavery? I doubt it will come into the fights but it is a fairly important part of my character's backstory and partially personality.

In essence, I'm echoing Ultrajoe's question about the limits of gore you'll accept. I made my character with the intent of being morally uncomforting rather than physically. How far can I go with that? Slavery? Racism? Sexism? Rape? Genocide?

I said it in the last thread but that was a while back so I'll say it again. No one is supposed to like my character. I would be quite disturbed if anybody did. I hate him and I'm the guy writing his entries.

Oh, and just because I feel guilty not having a character sheet up but posting anyway. His name is Lex. First person to make a Lex Luthor joke dies.

Go nuts.

 

[Khedive Rex]

Oh, and just because I feel guilty not having a character sheet up but posting anyway. His name is Lex. First person to make a Lex Luthor joke dies.

Is he bald and have a kryptonite obsession?

Actully, yes. He is bald. No kryptonite but he does have a fancy suit and bit of a superiority complex.

Oh, and now I need to kill you. Where do you live by the way? So hard to slaughter people over the internet...

 

[Dastardos]

Oh, and just because I feel guilty not having a character sheet up but posting anyway. His name is Lex. First person to make a Lex Luthor joke dies.

Is he bald and have a kryptonite obsession?

Actully, yes. He is bald. No kryptonite but he does have a fancy suit and bit of a superiority complex.

Oh, and now I need to kill you. Where do you live by the way? So hard to slaughter people over the internet...

Texas suburb.
But if you wanna kill me do it like a man!

Do it in Genre Wars, My Brute, or Ratings War.

Real life killing is so underrated.

 

[Higurashi]

I am glad we have ten days to post the intro, since my life has taken a turn for the hectic since I moved to a new place yesterday. Yes, I love the people and the place, but it will mean much work nonetheless. A comment I have is on the setting, and that comment is: fucking awesome. It will work well with my character, and by God will it be epic.

 

[SargentToughie]

Spoiler: and so it begins again

My character sheet will be up in a little while.. my character I'm using is totally bitchin'

 

[Dastardos]

Spoiler: and so it begins again

My character sheet will be up in a little while.. my character I'm using is totally bitchin'

Spoiler: and so it begins again

My character is a fucked up junkie who likes to execute people...

 

[Dastardos]

Character Intro and Charcter Sheet [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/362.107952?page=2#1836459]

Spoiler: Story Posts

Chapter 1: A Cloud in the Sky [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/362.107952?page=3#1856517]
Chapter 2: Initiation [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/362.107952?page=3#1865235]

Spoiler: Battle Posts

Spoiler: Round 1 Malcolm vs Micah

My Battle Post [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/362.107952?page=9#2008517]
Mookie_Mangus Battle Post [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/362.107952.2017303]
Status: Dastardos Victory