12-26-2009, 11:37 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.
[/center]another[/url] Grand Battle thingy competition. Please don't run away screaming. If you don't know why you should run in the first place, continue onwards.
INTRO
So, you enjoy dabbling in a spot of writing every now and again, and fancy putting your skill to the test with others of similar dispositions? Well, erm, look no further. Please, don't. Here is far enough. Well, actually, go to the end of this sentence at least, because this sentence tells you to visit the first of the five links above in order to read a summary of the rules and the general idea behind the competition that's better than what I could do. There's a summary here, but it is only a summary...
RULES
Basically, you are going to be in control of a character of your own design, who's just been plucked out of their home universe and deposited into a competition without any prior knowledge of the proceedings. This competition is to be a fight to the death between eight of the multiverse's best, and you are one of them. But your fate does not rest on your ability to run around slaughtering people - no, for this is a writing battle! Every round, there shall be one death, and this death is to be determined by who is judged to have performed the worst over the previous rounds. Then, with one player fewer to deal with, everyone will be whisked off to a new setting and put through the above again. Got that?
Now, to make things easier, you can use a RESERVE system to claim the right to post within two hours of reserving. This could provide you with some time to get things straight, to sort out how your character might react to a situation and to make sure that you're not going to cause any continuity errors, without having to rush, stressed other whether or not someone else is going to post first and spoil your masterplan. After that time, though, others can reserve or post, though hopefully you'll be up against other chivalrous enough to let you go before them...
PLAYERS
As part of the master scheme of ending up with eight of these running their course, then having the winners fight each other at the end, a third wave of battles started up recently. Having plucked out the 16 combatants, there were still some interested parties left over, so I've offered to host the sixth one here and now for those people. They were then added to, to produce the following cast:
Drakenforge - Wolf/Iris (#400000) - Crushed and drowned in a collapsing seadome - R3
Baphomet - Vexmagog (#4000BF) - Banished to a dimension of pure order - R3
Schazer - Sen (#40BF00)
Weldar - Steven Taylor (#008000
NotTheAuthor - Jacob Helix (#000080)
Kaikostrike - Alexander Striensand (#800000) - Got bit by Wolf a lot in the middle of a burning ring of trees - R1
redskap - Blitz Wykerr (#FF0000)
Korbz - John Swift (#4040FF) - Had his spine broken by crystal shards thrust into the air by a volcanic eruption - R2
Pharmacy -Eryntse (#FF5C48)
SUBMISSION FORM
If those names haven't put you off (hopefully you want to seize the opportunity to work with such talented names - I know I did!), then here's the form you'll need to fill in. Hey, reservees have to fill it in as well if they want their spot (except for Schazer, who's already PM'ed me hers - I'll put it in a spoiler in a post after this one)
Username: If you have trouble filling this in, we appreciate your enthusiasm, but please, seriously...
Name: No, not yours silly - the name of the character whom you have invented for this battle.
Gender: Kinda helpful. M, F, N/A or Other are your choices here, really. If you haven't fallen into one of those categories, I'd very much love to hear about it.
Race: Any and every possible species or type of creature that you can come up is fine by me. Human? Undead? Neptunian? Demon? Robot? Kitchen sink? Whatever you want, fine by me.
Colour: In order to make it easy to see who's posted what, you pick out a specific colour text (and/or, if you fancy it, a special coloured background) in which you'll write all your posts and, at a later stage, other players will write your character's speech or actions in as well. Currently, this,this,this and this are reserved by me for overlording stuff, and any of the colours listed above by combatant names are as well.
Weapon: Well, this is a battle, so one important thing to know is: what's your player's mode of attack? Describe it as best you can. Bear in mind that your character doesn't necessarily use a weapon - maybe their bodies are their weapon, or perhaps they use magic or something similar. Be creative!
Abilities: Whether or not your character has a weapon, chances are that's probably not the end of the story. What other powers or abilities do they have? Magic-wielders, here's the point where you can go beserk about it, whereas others might wish to have special skills or powers that might give them an edge. If you can write it in convincingly, then you can have it.
Description: So, what does your character look like? What's their mindset towards things? If you have a picture, or are able to draw one, that would be excellent, but it's no big deal - all we need to know is what your character is like, both appearance and personality-wise, so that they can be written for sucecssfully.
Biography: OK, chances are your character hasn't just materialised out of thin air. They've been around for a while, have lived a life and all that. Let's hear about it. Having some character depth is helpful for writing for them, so just come up with a little backstory for them.
AND NOW, THE INTRODUCTION - AN EXAMPLE, IF YOU LIKE, OF THE THINGS TO COME:
tl;dr - An entity called The Executive has assigned two of his minions, Talis and Sruix, to host a Grand Battle for him, at Talis's suggestion. But it seems that Talis might have some other motive for suggesting it, bar his master's entertainment...
![[Image: majestic_2.png]](https://i967.photobucket.com/albums/ae154/Sruixan/majestic_2.png)
INTRO
So, you enjoy dabbling in a spot of writing every now and again, and fancy putting your skill to the test with others of similar dispositions? Well, erm, look no further. Please, don't. Here is far enough. Well, actually, go to the end of this sentence at least, because this sentence tells you to visit the first of the five links above in order to read a summary of the rules and the general idea behind the competition that's better than what I could do. There's a summary here, but it is only a summary...
RULES
Basically, you are going to be in control of a character of your own design, who's just been plucked out of their home universe and deposited into a competition without any prior knowledge of the proceedings. This competition is to be a fight to the death between eight of the multiverse's best, and you are one of them. But your fate does not rest on your ability to run around slaughtering people - no, for this is a writing battle! Every round, there shall be one death, and this death is to be determined by who is judged to have performed the worst over the previous rounds. Then, with one player fewer to deal with, everyone will be whisked off to a new setting and put through the above again. Got that?
Now, to make things easier, you can use a RESERVE system to claim the right to post within two hours of reserving. This could provide you with some time to get things straight, to sort out how your character might react to a situation and to make sure that you're not going to cause any continuity errors, without having to rush, stressed other whether or not someone else is going to post first and spoil your masterplan. After that time, though, others can reserve or post, though hopefully you'll be up against other chivalrous enough to let you go before them...
PLAYERS
As part of the master scheme of ending up with eight of these running their course, then having the winners fight each other at the end, a third wave of battles started up recently. Having plucked out the 16 combatants, there were still some interested parties left over, so I've offered to host the sixth one here and now for those people. They were then added to, to produce the following cast:
Drakenforge - Wolf/Iris (#400000) - Crushed and drowned in a collapsing seadome - R3
Baphomet - Vexmagog (#4000BF) - Banished to a dimension of pure order - R3
Schazer - Sen (#40BF00)
Weldar - Steven Taylor (#008000
NotTheAuthor - Jacob Helix (#000080)
Kaikostrike - Alexander Striensand (#800000) - Got bit by Wolf a lot in the middle of a burning ring of trees - R1
redskap - Blitz Wykerr (#FF0000)
Korbz - John Swift (#4040FF) - Had his spine broken by crystal shards thrust into the air by a volcanic eruption - R2
Pharmacy -Eryntse (#FF5C48)
SUBMISSION FORM
If those names haven't put you off (hopefully you want to seize the opportunity to work with such talented names - I know I did!), then here's the form you'll need to fill in. Hey, reservees have to fill it in as well if they want their spot (except for Schazer, who's already PM'ed me hers - I'll put it in a spoiler in a post after this one)
Username: If you have trouble filling this in, we appreciate your enthusiasm, but please, seriously...
Name: No, not yours silly - the name of the character whom you have invented for this battle.
Gender: Kinda helpful. M, F, N/A or Other are your choices here, really. If you haven't fallen into one of those categories, I'd very much love to hear about it.
Race: Any and every possible species or type of creature that you can come up is fine by me. Human? Undead? Neptunian? Demon? Robot? Kitchen sink? Whatever you want, fine by me.
Colour: In order to make it easy to see who's posted what, you pick out a specific colour text (and/or, if you fancy it, a special coloured background) in which you'll write all your posts and, at a later stage, other players will write your character's speech or actions in as well. Currently, this,this,this and this are reserved by me for overlording stuff, and any of the colours listed above by combatant names are as well.
Weapon: Well, this is a battle, so one important thing to know is: what's your player's mode of attack? Describe it as best you can. Bear in mind that your character doesn't necessarily use a weapon - maybe their bodies are their weapon, or perhaps they use magic or something similar. Be creative!
Abilities: Whether or not your character has a weapon, chances are that's probably not the end of the story. What other powers or abilities do they have? Magic-wielders, here's the point where you can go beserk about it, whereas others might wish to have special skills or powers that might give them an edge. If you can write it in convincingly, then you can have it.
Description: So, what does your character look like? What's their mindset towards things? If you have a picture, or are able to draw one, that would be excellent, but it's no big deal - all we need to know is what your character is like, both appearance and personality-wise, so that they can be written for sucecssfully.
Biography: OK, chances are your character hasn't just materialised out of thin air. They've been around for a while, have lived a life and all that. Let's hear about it. Having some character depth is helpful for writing for them, so just come up with a little backstory for them.
AND NOW, THE INTRODUCTION - AN EXAMPLE, IF YOU LIKE, OF THE THINGS TO COME:
Show Content
Spoiler[The room was big. Or at least, one had to assume it was big. It was black, anyway. That much was easy to discern. There was some grey in places, namely the catwalk that penetrated the blackness in such an alien manner, and there were a few dark purples in the upholstery, but mostly it was black. And black is exceptionally good at creating the illusion of a void, an ebony emptiness stretching on for an eternity or three. In this case, it probably did - the entity occupying the very end of the catwalk, where the path widened to form a circle three times as wide as the walkway was, was not one for interior design. Actually, as you might have already been able to tell, they weren't one for having an interior or an exterior in the first place. They had yet to be able to figure out floors, walls, roofs, let alone put them together and subsequently decorate them.
"He" didn't have a name. "He" can never remember (if what "he" does is remember) being given one by parents or guardians or the like. That hasn't stopped "him" getting names attached to him, of course. Formality works off of names, although in the case of one or two of the names "he"'d been given, formality is perhaps pushing it. The politest, and the most frequently used when "he" was present, was The Exectutive, for he always made the executive decision, and most of the time it was for an execution...
The Executive was at that moment reclined, resting rather restlessly (if that is at all possible) on a couch that bore more than a passing resemblance to one that you could find in any good psychiatrist's office. He... OK, let's face it, he was a he. Or at the very least, he looked like a he just then. Right, now, he had his arms crossed on his chest, which was somewhat upsetting the man (this one was a man, not an intangible entity) who was playing amateur psychiatrist. He'd fabricated himself a quaint and comfy armchair to sit in, had crossed his legs and steepled his fingers, although he'd stopped short at dragging in a skeleton and a potted plant, just after stopping himself from getting a pipe to smoke. He had a monocle though, but that was norm.
Talis had been wearing a monocle for some time, possibly out of the misheld belief that it made him look more evil in conjunction with the obligatory goatee, more likely (and indeed truthfully) because he was getting on a bit and his left eye wasn't as good as it used to be. His official role indeed called for him to be evil, for in any universe, there
must be antagony for there to be liveliness and functionality - so much comes from the struggle of good and evil that to remove the evil from the equation would result in... well, Talis wasn't sure. He'd never been away long enough for anyone to try to destabilise proceedings like that. As far as he could discern, the biggest problem would be afternoon tea suddenly becoming a rather awkward occasion, although he expected that there would probably be much deeper and profounder impacts on the universe than just that...
Still, now wasn't the time for such trifles. The Executive was preparing himself, getting ready to open up his mind to Talis, to let his troubles gush out, in the hope that Talis could make everything better for him.
"This... "Director"," - this word was accompanied by a fair bit of phlegm - "starts a game. A nice little game, very entertaining. It's been much more interesting to see multiversal conflict rather than having to put up with merely focusing in on a particular one - it gives the proceedings zest and spice; that bit of variety. Perfect at making the evenings disappear, Talis. And then, what's this, up pops a second battle? Well, I certainly took that opportunity-"
No, you didn't, thought Talis. You merely instructed me to get someone to put one of their creations on the line for your pleasure. You didn't even raise a hand, much less use it to seize the moment.
"-and Maxwell, he's most enjoyable. Sruix knows how to make a character, though I dunno how good he his at keeping that character alive, per se-"
That's because you weren't bothered enough to conjure up a fighting machine yourself, Executive. Sruix is a pacifist to the core, or would be if he had a core. He has a cortex, though. Close enough.
"But yes, then I had a commitment to that battle, yes, and I still do - I have to, right? Despite that, there's still the first fight - once you've started something, you gotta see how it ends. Curiousity. You'd never forgive yourself if you didn't. So I was a tad stretched. But that wasn't too bad..."
Yes, yes, because you had us to do most of the petty administrative work for you. Thanks for that.
"And then up pops a third, and then up pops a fourth, and then up pops a fifth! Five conflicts, with conflicting schedules! Unbearable! Atrocious! Inconcievable! And that is not the end! Good grief, no, of course not, for you say Sruix attends this multiversal meeting of masters to find that Mr. Director plans for eight. Eight! How is one supposed to keep up with eight?! Etiquette demands it, but it is impossible, Talis. What can I do? What can I do?"
By this point, The Executive was doing a very good job of getting on Talis's nerves. But then that was fairly normal as well. Working with someone with attitude was commonplace for him, though usually the attitude he came across was "if it moves, kill it" rather than "if it moves, pay it to kill everything else that moves". Still, he was about to drop the bait and initiate stage one...
"I have an idea, sir. What if you were to host your own battle? I know, I know, it sounds like a bit of work, but think about it. It is a bit of work, and henceforth it would be a permissable excuse for not keeping up with the affairs of the other battles. I know for a fact that the Observer has a fun time balancing his affairs, hosting and participating as he does. Sruix knows of a few other creators who were disappointed that they were unable to get into the last wave, and I suspect that, if we can round them up and get the last few punters together, we could be started almost immediately."
The pseudo-logic was laughable, but it served its purpose well. The Executive was obviously more than interested by the proposition, and having risen from his couch, was about to voice so:
"That, Talis, is probably the best idea you've had in all the time I've had the displeasure of knowing you. Get Sruix on it immediately. It'll be a much better use of his time than those silly music things he does... I mean, this latest one of his, "Music Of The Spheres" or something - ridiculous, let me tell you..."
"Um, that was about two months ago, Sir. He's up to Music Of The Dodecahedrons now."
"Good grief, really? Thank goodness you came up with this then - we gotta get him doing something more productive before he runs out of shapes and has to pester me to invent a new one for him..."
"Very well. I shall see to it immediately."
"Exactly. Now, run along now. I'm going to check up on... oh, I think the Battle Royale..."
Talis rose, gave the required salute, and headed back down the catwalk. At what he judged to be a relatively safe distance, he paused briefly and heaved a slight sigh of relief.
Perfectly done...
"He" didn't have a name. "He" can never remember (if what "he" does is remember) being given one by parents or guardians or the like. That hasn't stopped "him" getting names attached to him, of course. Formality works off of names, although in the case of one or two of the names "he"'d been given, formality is perhaps pushing it. The politest, and the most frequently used when "he" was present, was The Exectutive, for he always made the executive decision, and most of the time it was for an execution...
The Executive was at that moment reclined, resting rather restlessly (if that is at all possible) on a couch that bore more than a passing resemblance to one that you could find in any good psychiatrist's office. He... OK, let's face it, he was a he. Or at the very least, he looked like a he just then. Right, now, he had his arms crossed on his chest, which was somewhat upsetting the man (this one was a man, not an intangible entity) who was playing amateur psychiatrist. He'd fabricated himself a quaint and comfy armchair to sit in, had crossed his legs and steepled his fingers, although he'd stopped short at dragging in a skeleton and a potted plant, just after stopping himself from getting a pipe to smoke. He had a monocle though, but that was norm.
Talis had been wearing a monocle for some time, possibly out of the misheld belief that it made him look more evil in conjunction with the obligatory goatee, more likely (and indeed truthfully) because he was getting on a bit and his left eye wasn't as good as it used to be. His official role indeed called for him to be evil, for in any universe, there
must be antagony for there to be liveliness and functionality - so much comes from the struggle of good and evil that to remove the evil from the equation would result in... well, Talis wasn't sure. He'd never been away long enough for anyone to try to destabilise proceedings like that. As far as he could discern, the biggest problem would be afternoon tea suddenly becoming a rather awkward occasion, although he expected that there would probably be much deeper and profounder impacts on the universe than just that...
Still, now wasn't the time for such trifles. The Executive was preparing himself, getting ready to open up his mind to Talis, to let his troubles gush out, in the hope that Talis could make everything better for him.
"This... "Director"," - this word was accompanied by a fair bit of phlegm - "starts a game. A nice little game, very entertaining. It's been much more interesting to see multiversal conflict rather than having to put up with merely focusing in on a particular one - it gives the proceedings zest and spice; that bit of variety. Perfect at making the evenings disappear, Talis. And then, what's this, up pops a second battle? Well, I certainly took that opportunity-"
No, you didn't, thought Talis. You merely instructed me to get someone to put one of their creations on the line for your pleasure. You didn't even raise a hand, much less use it to seize the moment.
"-and Maxwell, he's most enjoyable. Sruix knows how to make a character, though I dunno how good he his at keeping that character alive, per se-"
That's because you weren't bothered enough to conjure up a fighting machine yourself, Executive. Sruix is a pacifist to the core, or would be if he had a core. He has a cortex, though. Close enough.
"But yes, then I had a commitment to that battle, yes, and I still do - I have to, right? Despite that, there's still the first fight - once you've started something, you gotta see how it ends. Curiousity. You'd never forgive yourself if you didn't. So I was a tad stretched. But that wasn't too bad..."
Yes, yes, because you had us to do most of the petty administrative work for you. Thanks for that.
"And then up pops a third, and then up pops a fourth, and then up pops a fifth! Five conflicts, with conflicting schedules! Unbearable! Atrocious! Inconcievable! And that is not the end! Good grief, no, of course not, for you say Sruix attends this multiversal meeting of masters to find that Mr. Director plans for eight. Eight! How is one supposed to keep up with eight?! Etiquette demands it, but it is impossible, Talis. What can I do? What can I do?"
By this point, The Executive was doing a very good job of getting on Talis's nerves. But then that was fairly normal as well. Working with someone with attitude was commonplace for him, though usually the attitude he came across was "if it moves, kill it" rather than "if it moves, pay it to kill everything else that moves". Still, he was about to drop the bait and initiate stage one...
"I have an idea, sir. What if you were to host your own battle? I know, I know, it sounds like a bit of work, but think about it. It is a bit of work, and henceforth it would be a permissable excuse for not keeping up with the affairs of the other battles. I know for a fact that the Observer has a fun time balancing his affairs, hosting and participating as he does. Sruix knows of a few other creators who were disappointed that they were unable to get into the last wave, and I suspect that, if we can round them up and get the last few punters together, we could be started almost immediately."
The pseudo-logic was laughable, but it served its purpose well. The Executive was obviously more than interested by the proposition, and having risen from his couch, was about to voice so:
"That, Talis, is probably the best idea you've had in all the time I've had the displeasure of knowing you. Get Sruix on it immediately. It'll be a much better use of his time than those silly music things he does... I mean, this latest one of his, "Music Of The Spheres" or something - ridiculous, let me tell you..."
"Um, that was about two months ago, Sir. He's up to Music Of The Dodecahedrons now."
"Good grief, really? Thank goodness you came up with this then - we gotta get him doing something more productive before he runs out of shapes and has to pester me to invent a new one for him..."
"Very well. I shall see to it immediately."
"Exactly. Now, run along now. I'm going to check up on... oh, I think the Battle Royale..."
Talis rose, gave the required salute, and headed back down the catwalk. At what he judged to be a relatively safe distance, he paused briefly and heaved a slight sigh of relief.
Perfectly done...