The Grand OC! [CONTEST XXX: HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEN]

Themes: Command and Boreal
Username: Ixcaliber
Name: Celeste
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Text Colour: #0047AB
Description: Celeste is fifteen years old. She has strikingly pale skin, olive green eyes and messy shoulder length black hair, but due to the way she dresses none of these features are exactly noticeable. She's usually wearing a thick fur parka jacket, leather boots and gloves, a long woolen scarf, a knitted balaclava, thick goggles and a backpack almost as big as she is. Her clothing is mostly browns and greys, but there are a couple of splashes of colour where she's sewn patches onto her jacket and her backpack is a bright friendly red. Attached to her belt are six smooth glasslike cubes, each about the size of her fist. They range in colour; one is a deep purple, another a gunmetal grey, yet another pulsed through every colour of the spectrum.

Celeste is pretty mature for her age. She is highly driven and highly competitive and if she wants something she's not going to stop until she gets it. If she doesn't see you as competition then she's pretty laid back. She's high energy, fun and spontaneous. She hates just sitting around and is very quickly bored.

Items/Abilities: Her backpack is filled mainly with camping gear, including a bedroll, a portable gas stove and about a month's worth of rations. She also has a couple of spare cubes like the ones hanging from her belt but at the moment completely transparent. These cubes are commonly used to contain and control the souls of certain creatures. By placing one of these cubes in her hand and focusing Celeste can conjure up and temporarily make corporeal the spirit of one of these creatures. This magic is commonplace and is most popularly used for competitive battling for the purpose of entertainment.

She has six of these familiars with her:

• Her first familiar is a Warpion. For the most part it resembles a massive scorpion with a red-black carapace, except for where its tail should have a venom laced stinger it has instead the barrel of a cannon. Its movements are slow and its cannon blast is imprecise, but when it hits it packs one hell of a punch.
  
• Her second familiar is an Imitar. In the wild it appears as a cloud of neon green energy which is more or less completely harmless. However due to the fact that its energy makeup is so similar to that stored in the energy cubes it is possible for it to learn how to take the form of other familiars. It rarely performs as well as they do but it can make a good bluff if an opponent doesn't know it's just an Imitar.
  
• Her third familiar is a Pazard. It is a deep purple lizard like creature carrying a large burlap sack full of sand over one shoulder. It isn't the most physically impressive familiar but it has a talent for putting its opponents into a deep sleep with nothing more than a handful of sand.
  
• Her fourth familiar is actually a unique familiar. Well, she suspects it is, it's difficult to know for sure, but she hasn't met anyone who has been able to prove the existence of another. It's called Melumaid and she captured it in the middle of the roughest storm her region had seen for many years. It is an enormous cobalt blue sea serpent with the ability to mesmerize its victims with its song.
  
• Her fifth familiar is a Ravoid. It is a large inky black bird shape that presumably is a bird. It's unique featurelessness has been suggested to be due not to its colouration, which is unknown, but rather to its impressive light destroying capabilities. It has the unique ability to temporarily drain all light from a given area, enveloping everyone and everything within in pitch blackness.
  
• Her final familiar is a Feuorb. It is a lot weaker and less thoroughly trained than her other familiars and was the first familiar she received. It is essentially a little ball of living fire; a little source of heat and light that never falters no matter how dire the conditions. It is the only one Celeste has deigned to name (Bernie) and it's more precious to her than any of the others.
  

Biography: Celeste is from the far north; a freezing region called Aihfah. In this remote region of the world only the hardiest could survive and so a large part of her childhood involved survival training, and learning to respect the wilderness. She was a quick learner.

On her tenth birthday Celeste was given her first familiar; a Feuorb she called Bernie. As was traditional she left home with her new familiar to explore the world, overcome tough times and learn more about herself as a person, oh and to battle familiars competitively. The last part was the part that really appealed to her. Celeste was a unique combination of skilled, determined and lucky. She worked hard, and worked her familiars hard, and somehow she always managed to be just in the right place at the right time to capture some of the world's rarest and most interesting familiars. She won fight after fight and in time she came to challenge and defeat the champions of the Aihfah region, but she still wasn't satisfied.

Over the next few years she travelled the world from one region to the next, catching the familiars of that region and challenging its champions. It was lots of fun at first but after a time she found herself getting bored. These champions didn't seem to present as much of a challenge as they had used to. Eventually, dissatisfied she decided to return home and contemplate what she might do next, when unexpectedly she was taken off to a new challenge altogether.

Alrighty! ~24 hours left!

bigro has my vote. scared my socks off.....

Next up: the DEAD Baron pays a visit to MR BONES WILD RIDE

Hey now, you're an all-star, get your 'wards on, go play

Best of Show I'll award to Reyna Ale. She just generally works, y'know? I'd have also pipped it for Diligent Gentleman or Synergy as well.

For Above the Fold, the DEAD baron successfully outruns The Fuzz and clears the finish line to take out this award.

Iron Chef Special Ingredient is awarded to Celeste, for a nice, concise way to pack in the themes from the last eight weeks.

Backdoor Worldbuilding goes to The Battle of the Temple of Skulls, even though I certainly wouldn't want to live where all this shit's going down.

Diligent Gentleman goes to Corrstable, whose innate knowledge of any new round's Laws will make him an excellent agent for setting-crafting. There's always the risk of how he'll interpret the Grandmasters' rules from on high as well, which poses him as a threat to the other characters.

20Q for Confusion can be awarded to Lt. Karl Weiman - I'm not exactly certain what his deal is, but that's probably just sleep deprivation.

Timeo and The Fuzz didn't quite fit for any of the awards, and the more disparate theme meant nobody deserved ISWYDT either, so the two can jointly win Synergy and The Space Jam Remix prizes.


Ok, that was surprisingly hard to judge. For week ten, Bigro has requested a reserve spot.

Username: Dragon Fogel
Name of User: Dragon Fogel
Profile Written By: Dragon Fogel
Writer of Profile: Dragon Fogel
Name: The Unemployed (Formerly The Employee)
Race: Former Grandmaster
Gender: Still male, last time he checked
Color: He can't afford one these days.
Biography: Things had been going pretty well for the Employee. He had a great job at Grand Battles Inc. that paid quite well, and he was able to not just support The Wife and The Kids, but he was able to take them on vacations regularly and buy them plenty of nice gifts. He even had plenty of free time to spend with The Drinking Buddy.
Then The Boss gave him the news. The Machine could run the battle just as well as he could, but in half the time at a quarter of the cost.
There was no need for The Employee any more.
That was when he became The Unemployed, and everything got worse from there. The Wife left him and took The Kids with her. He holed up with The Drinking Buddy for a while, but that soon fell apart too when he couldn't afford his share of the rent.
He couldn't even get an interview, not that he was in any shape to clean himself up. Dejected, The Unemployed simply wandered the universe in a futile hope for a better life.
Until one day, when The Machine decided he was one of the eight most suitable candidates for the position of "Grand Battle Entrant".

Description: The Unemployed is a disheveled, unshaven human-looking entity in ragged clothes. He hasn't bathed in eons. His life has been miserable for so long that he's almost forgotten how to talk socially.
He's pretty irritable, and envious of everyone around him no matter how miserable their situation. They haven't been unemployed for the age of an entire universe, after all.
He will also take any opportunity to apply for a job, no matter how terrible it is, because it's the only way he has any chance of getting back on his feet.

Weapons and Abilities: Most of the Unemployed's power derives from his job. Since he doesn't have one, he's pretty weak. Sure, he's immortal, and hard to kill, and he could theoretically traverse the dimensions if the Machine wasn't keeping them sealed up. But in order to really do anything impressive, he'd have to get hired and be The Employee again.
If he were hired, he would promptly become the best employee ever to hold that position, gaining impossible competence to the point where he can complete tasks before he's actually assigned them. However, despite his best efforts a promotion would always remain out of his grasp, and if he were fired - or had to leave the job due to a sudden transport to another dimension, which most contracts simply don't cover - he'd become the Unemployed again.

Username of User Above Me: Dragon Fogel
Name of User Who Most Recently Posted In This Thread Besides Myself: Dragon Fogel
Preceding Profile Written By: Dragon Fogel
Writer of Prior Profile: Dragon Fogel
Name of Dragon Fogel's Character: The Unemployed (Formerly The Employee)
Dragon Fogel's Character's Race: Former Grandmaster
Gender From The Depths Of Dragon Fogel's Imagination: Still male, last time he checked
The Text Color Dragon Fogel Decided On For His Character, The Unemployed, In This Round Of The Grand OC: He can't afford one these days.
The Biography Dragon Fogel Wrote And I, Chwoka, Copied Over To My Own Post: Things had been going pretty well for the Employee. He had a great job at Grand Battles Inc. that paid quite well, and he was able to not just support The Wife and The Kids, but he was able to take them on vacations regularly and buy them plenty of nice gifts. He even had plenty of free time to spend with The Drinking Buddy.
Then The Boss gave him the news. The Machine could run the battle just as well as he could, but in half the time at a quarter of the cost.
There was no need for The Employee any more.
That was when he became The Unemployed, and everything got worse from there. The Wife left him and took The Kids with her. He holed up with The Drinking Buddy for a while, but that soon fell apart too when he couldn't afford his share of the rent.
He couldn't even get an interview, not that he was in any shape to clean himself up. Dejected, The Unemployed simply wandered the universe in a futile hope for a better life.
Until one day, when The Machine decided he was one of the eight most suitable candidates for the position of "Grand Battle Entrant".

Description Of The Unemployed, Dragon Fogel's Character For The "Redundancy" Round Of The Grand OC: The Unemployed is a disheveled, unshaven human-looking entity in ragged clothes. He hasn't bathed in eons. His life has been miserable for so long that he's almost forgotten how to talk socially.
He's pretty irritable, and envious of everyone around him no matter how miserable their situation. They haven't been unemployed for the age of an entire universe, after all.
He will also take any opportunity to apply for a job, no matter how terrible it is, because it's the only way he has any chance of getting back on his feet.

Weapons and Abilities That Dragon Fogel Endowed Upon The Unemployed In The Application They Wrote Not So Long Ago, I Can Remember That Application Like It Was Yesterday And It Goes Like This: Most of the Unemployed's power derives from his job. Since he doesn't have one, he's pretty weak. Sure, he's immortal, and hard to kill, and he could theoretically traverse the dimensions if the Machine wasn't keeping them sealed up. But in order to really do anything impressive, he'd have to get hired and be The Employee again.
If he were hired, he would promptly become the best employee ever to hold that position, gaining impossible competence to the point where he can complete tasks before he's actually assigned them. However, despite his best efforts a promotion would always remain out of his grasp, and if he were fired - or had to leave the job due to a sudden transport to another dimension, which most contracts simply don't cover - he'd become the Unemployed again.

Redundant field to start off a truly redundancy-laden profile: Schazer, the person who submitted the profile for a character called Carmine-Beneath-Waves
Name: The-Carmine-Below-Waves, Royal-Insignia-Given-Form of the Court of Empress Levantine, by the Court of King Sirocco as a gift to the Court of Empress Levantine
Race: The-Carmine-Below-Waves is a magical beast created by the finest coralmancers in the court of King Sirocco.
Gender: The-Carmine-Below-Waves is a two-of-a-kind beast, created rather than born, with no sexual organs or prescribed role in society which would entail it have a gender. The appended statement statement following this explanation that this field is redundant, is, thus, redundant.
Color: The color of Carmine, a deep red hue of minerals, below the color of the sea, which is sea-green.

Description: The-Carmine-Below-Waves is a construct of a fearsome visage, sung from coral into the shape of a long-dead beast featured upon the East Sea Empire's royal insignia. The beast has the many legs and feelers of a shrimp, its eyes upon stalks (rendered in black pearls). It is about the size of a lion, with a thick mane about its neck made from black mussels. Its finer appendages are encased in metal casings, the rust worked in intricate patterns which illustrate ancient stories. It has a crown with the Empress Royal's insignia engraved on the front, embedded in the corals of its head. The Carmine-Below-Waves moves slowly even underwater; it drags itself along the seafloor with its many limbs. Its movement across dry land would be even slower, unless it submerged itself in water to give it some buoyancy.

Weapons/Abilities: The-Carmine-Below-Waves features a thick mane of mussels growing around its neck; heard undersea they issue a beautiful melody which becomes painful, discordant wailing when the Carmine-Below-Waves is taken out of water. The exotic corals which grow on its body exude seawater from no discernible source; this water when mixed with other fluids allows the seeds of more corals to germinate. The coral grows at its normal, extremely slow rate when submerged in seawater, but accelerates its growth out of water (and even more so when exposed to The-Carmine-Below-Waves' wail). Washing off an exposed wound in such water guarantees a painful death for any animal once the spores have entered its bloodstream. Corals which sprout off the Carmine-Below-Waves also leak polyp-saturated seawater.

Biography: The-Carmine-Below-Waves was created by decree of King Sirocco, as a gift to his sister Levantine, sung from finest coral as a living version of the beast emblazoning the Empress' royal crest. It arrived at her court with much fanfare and adulation, with its fine mane of corals and melodious roar, but escaped the palace grounds that very same night. Its handlers pursued it as far as one of the twisted, dead landscapes of the Knights, before giving it up for lost. The merciful Empress opted not to execute The-Carmine-Below-Waves' handlers, instead commissioning a new one, perhaps less inclined to wander, from the court of King Sirocco.

Several months later, the new Carmine-Below-Waves appeared on the steps of the Imperial Palace - but so did the original Carmine-Below-Waves. The awkwardness of this arrangement was mitigated somewhat when the original Carmine-Below-Waves vanished suddenly and without trace.

Username: domi origato solly abotto
Name: Officer Automa Polcia Botau & Protocol Procolo
Species: Human and Program
Gender: Non-Binary (They) and Genderless (It)
Color: Rosemary Green and Command Line
Description: Tall and imposing feminine looking person in a normal officers uniform with a very obvious metal cybernetic enhancement covering their face. They try to cover said enhancement and its glowing red eye with their auburn hair, which highlights their brown eyes and skin, and their cute red lipstick.

As Protocol Procolo is a program, it shares the same physical appearance as Officer Botau. It does not exclusively reside in the metal face plating nor in any of their other cybernetic parts.

Automa is shy, but committed to doing their duty! While they are a bit easy to fool, they don't bend under pressure and are willing to do whatever they can to ensure that their duty is carried out!

Protocol Procolo is taciturn, but literally made to do its objective. While its programming can be worked around, it is impossible to completely go against it and it will ensure that its programming is completed.

Weapons/Abilities: Besides their pretty good sleuthing skills and a slew of cybernetic enhancements, some less authorized than others, Automa has watched every single episode of TWF Wresting.

Protocol Procolo is set to run if Officer Botau is unable to perform their duty, at which point it will temporarily use all of their information and instincts to complete the mission, additionally adding in its cybernetic expertise.

Biography: After signing up for the Polis Cia City Police Force, Officer Automa Polcia Botau was content with their slow and calm pace of work. They went in, looked at various papers, possibly sussed various things out, thought about who needed talking to, that sort of thing! Unfortunately, one day, they took the wrong case and ended up in a bit of a bad spot.

The result was firstly a slew of cybernetic enhancements that they did not want to have done, and secondly an empty slot in their brain for a malevolent AI that was luckily, not installed. However, due to the way that the AI technology worked, unless an AI was installed, it was likely that Automa would die. The result was Protocol Procolo.

After a few upgrades, Protocol Procolo got to where it is now, and while Automa would prefer to have a less... pro-active AI, they are glad to have back-up no matter what the situation...

Name: Hideous Space Ants

Race: Hideous Space Ants From Another Dimension

Gender: "They" for bunches. "She" for singular and an occasional "he" in the distance.

Color: how redundANT!

Description: Ants! There are many others like it, but this one is mine.

Okay, Hideous Space Ants aren't really that hideous. They don't look too different from their bedfellows from Odontomachus and they pretty much act just the same. They kind of have an eerie purple glow around them because space. Otherwise, they are pretty much ants. Ants about the size of a large dog.

Wait, why are you screaming?

Abilities: Every time someone repeats themselves or someone else verbally. A Hideous Space Ant appears. A Hideous Space Ant that hates this green and loving Earth. That's it. That's about it.

Other than that, they're pretty much just ants times a dog. A rather large dog. If you want more ant-specific abilities, go look up "ant" in Wikipedia or something.

Biography: THEY CAMMMMMME FROM THE ANT DIMENSIOOOOOON.

Username: Agenusername
Agen currently emplacing written text upon a rectangular, square, circular, triangular, or polygonal phosphor, light-emitting diode, organic light-emitting diode, mental projection, imaginary, or analog representational artifice informational vector via intra- or interconscious transmission: Agenusername
Character name, designator, understood recognition code, unique authentication method result, bio-, cyber-, magi-, inexplicable- or nanoinformatic identification string, integer, or complex table: Wangwriter (aka Advance In Very Words, aka Few Repair Necessary, aka Much Joy And Harmony In Writing)
Character preferred name, colloquial identifier, social-grace mediated contractual accepted sub-group of name or names as collectively understood by acquaintances, familiar and familial groups, partners and closer (mediated by familiarity): Wangwriter
Character official identifier(s) with respect to local and multiversal database organizational and authenticative identity authority figures and computational devices:

11218829111928564736473&6151739018299Å81e847h0x71˚
πa441H!H421µs_871827482hshDEI[CENSORED]
obs667133894^&∞§£PO122%55_000101235@_78a92b¢

x

*jk91ª

Character race, larger classification, scientific place on known living/animated beings/objects/as-yet uninvented politically correct non-connotative meta-recursive term for the use of any existing [uninvented politically correct non-connotative meta-recursive term]:
Wangwriter™ - Class of mechanical writing implements, similar (and superior to) to far inferior mechanical user-input-powered systems known colloquially, commonly, within social and zeitgeist-driven vernacular and vocabulary as 'typewriters'.
Character gender or other socially constructed biologically, physiologically and psychologically bi-, tri-, or polyfurcative class-division system: Male, or male-identifying according to contractual behaviors created by historical and metanarrative influences, in accordance to exhibited and self-analytical behavioral patterns.
Character sex or biologically deterministic form of non-asexual reproductive ability and/or other vestigial formations denoting but not indicative of the above as according to social convention, norm or collective understanding: None, in a non-reproductivity-capable sense
Color, hue, shade, pixel or pigment intensity combination, psychological or synaesthetic hallucinatory phenomenon attribute of text or text-equivalent located on interconscious informational vector: This color is #4d4d4d, or gray30, or grey30, or gray, or grey, or dark gray, or dark grey, or typewriter grey, or typewriter gray, or gray-thirty, or grey-thirty, or Gray30, or Grey30, or Gray, or Grey, or Dark Gray, or Dark Grey, or Typewriter Grey, or Typewriter Gray, or Gray-thirty, or Grey-thirty, or hex-four-dee-four-dee-four-dee, or hex-triple-four-dee, or...
Biographical, historical or time-respective recollective media relative to individual characters' experiences/cognitive understandings, neural/neural equivalent/socially constructed associative memory complex: THE WANGWRITER.

UNDERSTAND OF THE WANGWRITER TAKE ONLY KNOWLEDGE AND CLEVERNESS. WISDOM COME TO PEOPLE ESCHEW INFERIOR SAD TYPEWRITING MECHANISM MACHINATION.

Wangwriter is make by President Wang, very accomplish. Wangwriter beat out all other writing mechanism machinations!

Pencil...? NO!
Pen of the Pointy Ball...? NO!
Pen of Furry...? NO!
TYPEWRITING MACHISM..........??????? NO NO NO!

Only Wangwriter make superior and understanding form of writing that is writing that is writnig!!!! SOUL depend on Wangwriter use by many and all! Tell FRIENDS! Tell FAMILY MEMBERS! Tell AQUINTANCE IN STREET! Wangwriter is for all for the more enjoying that is for joy and harmony!

Preisdent Wang has say, 'many happy time for you if you use wangwriter!!!!!!!!!"

Write better! Write with WANG!

Visual/perceptive representation of character as perceived or understood by local or remote bio-, nano-, cyber-, magi-, inexplicable-technological sensing apparatuses, as filtered through conscious or subconscious methodologies: The Wangwriter is a metallic oblong disc between 750 and 760 millimeters in diameter (manufacturing varies due to invariable differences in casting and machining conditions in the locality known officially in most jurisdictions as the Wangwriter Factory and colloquially as 'that heap', a derogatory term attributed to the lack of Wangwriter corporate prosperity (WANG -1.1) and visual/perceptive condition of locality), lettered on the edge with several esoteric arcane alphabets: (New Revised Runic Script, Reformed Arcana Typical, Times New Roman) and conventional communicative/informational static production sequence generators. Encasing the system is a ferrous/cuprite rectangular case (manufacturers may create square or triangular defects) with a living-hinge element-shield latch-lock apparatus. The mechanism machination is attached, held, or welded together with heavily radioactive slag/by-product and other classified or obscurated materials.

Common endemic abilities held by most members of character's larger class which exist as part of survival or non-essential attributes of aforementioned class/special abilities possessed by character specifically as part of prior training or biological/technological/magical/inexplicable innate ability: Wangwriter possesses limited sentience. There is a strong correlation to the hypothesis that this is due to the fact that Wangwriter purchasers/purloiners/obtainers (legal/illegal/'grey zone'/impossible)/equippers/users/addicts run through a statistical test are unable to demonstrate basic regard to sanity, sound mind, safety procedures, regulations or self-preservation primarily because such individuals that purchase/purloin/obtain (through legal, illegal, 'grey zone' or impossible means)/equip/use/are addicted to Wangwriters do not exist. However if such purchasing/purloining/obtaining (using legal, illegal, 'grey zone' or impossible methods)/equipping/using/becoming an addict individuals did exist, they would be capable of using the Wangwriter's innate ability to manipulate and use arcane, magical, sufficiently-advanced-technological alphabetical information vectoring on other individuals.

Just wanted to mention I won't be submitting anything this week.

Just wanted to mention I won't be submitting anything this week.

i already have

Username: Ixcaliber
Names: General Mildred Parish, General Mildred Parish, General Mildred Parish, General Mildred Parish, General Mildred Parish, General Mildred Parish, General Mildred Parish and General Mildred Parish
Genders: Female, Female, Female, Female, Female, Female, Female and Female
Species: Human, Human, Human, Human, Human, Human, Human and Human
Text Colours: #9B111E, #9B111E, #9B111E, #9B111E, #9B111E, #9B111E, #9B111E and #9B111E
Biography: Biographies are all well and good but first a little history lesson. In 1986 Queen Ragnarok sadly passed away and her kingdom was divided between her three daughters; the Princesses Fenrir, Hel and Jormungandr (it was stipulated in Ragnarok's will that her daughters were not allowed to succeed her as queen (she wasn't a very nice person) and so each retained their title of princess and their lands were referred to as principalities). One of the first acts of Princess Lisa Jormungandr (who was thirteen years old at the time) when faced with the fiscal responsibility of her principality was to have 90% of the population hunted down, killed and replaced with inexpensive clones via her newly acquired cloning technology. The man in charge of carrying out this order was General Walter Parish, Mildred's father.

General Parish made efforts to protect his family from the purge and while his success with his son was at best debateable; his success with Mildred was much more clear cut. In order to exempt Mildred (who was aged twelve at the time) from the purge he appointed her to the position of Lieutenant General. Walter had planned to have Mildred removed from the military as soon as the danger had passed, but it was a detail he neglected to iron out before he realized the horror of what he had done and took his own life. Mildred was promoted to General in his place.

Mildred was understandably distraught, not just at the loss of her father, but also at the unreasonable expectation that she was now going to do his job. Fortunately for her the next few years were very quiet militarily speaking. Over time Mildred formed a strong friendship with Princess Jormungandr and she gradually grew more accepting of her new role in life and got better and better at it.

One day in 1994 in the middle of a particularly violent squid uprising, General Parish vanished without explanation, whisked off into the multiverse to compete in a battle to the death. Normally that would be the end of that but her expert command was deemed vital to the current situation and so a recent sample of her blood was used to grow a clone. After a moment spent getting her up to date on current events the clone mysteriously vanished also. Because Princess Jormungandr was feeling particularly bloody-minded that day she saw this only as a challenge and continued to make clones of Mildred (seven in total) which continued to vanish inexplicably until her personal bodyguard (a squid by the name of Oioujuoaie) volunteered to take the position in her place.

Description: General Mildred Parish was twenty one years old at the time they were taken for a battle to the death. They each have short brown hair and muddy brown eyes; the only physical distinction between them is the heart tattoo the original Mildred has on her right wrist (on her eighteenth she and Jormungandr had got very drunk and it seemed like a great idea to get matching tattoos). The original Mildred was wearing her General's uniform (dark green with gold trim). It has a couple of actual medals for her services in the last couple of years but most of them are bottle caps and ribbon that Jormungandr made to make her feel better. The first clone was wearing Mildred's off duty clothes (t-shirt and jeans) and subsequent clones were hastily dressed in a standard issue new clone jumpsuit.

Mildred has never been a fan of cloning, after all it nearly got her killed and her father killed himself because of it; so she's unlikely to be all that happy about the current situation. Her position as General has forced her to become confident and decisive, and also has forced her to come to terms with people dying on her orders, though whether she'd find it as easy to kill someone herself remains to be seen. She's very professional in situations that call for it, but she does have a fun side as well and doesn't get the opportunity to cut loose quite as often as she'd like.

Items/Abilities: There's eight of her, but that probably wouldn't help her too much in a fight given that none of them have ever been in one. She does have something of a talent for tactical thinking but she's no Napoleon.

RIGHT, WATCH OUT BITCHES I'M COMIN' THROUGH!

THE THEME FOR THIS WEEK IS.... NOISE, BE IT MUSIC, CACOPHONIES, OR EAR PEARCING SONAR WAVES.

MAKE IT BIG, MAKE IT LOUD, DON'T STOP UNTIL THE COPS ARE CALLED ON YOUR DRUNKEN ASS AT 3 IN THE MORNING FOR BURSTING EVERYONES EAR DRUMS IN A FIVE BLOCK RADIUS WITH YOUR AWFUL TASTE IN DEATH METAL.

Username: AgenFAO
Name: PARTY ROCK
Gender: NONE WHATSOEVER
Species: ROCK (AND POP AND DANCE AND ALL THAT OTHER SHIT)
Color: IN THE HOUSE TONIIIIGHT
Description: PARTY ROCK IS A ROCK, BUT JUST CAUSE HE HAS NO LIMBS DON'T MEAN HE HAS NO MOVES! *salacious wink despite not having eyes* HE WILL MAKE YOU SCREAAAAAAAAM LOUDER THAN YOU'VE EVER DARED TO SCREAM BEFOOOOOORE! PARTY ROCK IS THE MANLIEST, CRAGGIEST, MOST SCULPTED ROCK YOU HAVE EVER SEEN, AND HE'S GOING TO FUUUUUCK YOU UUUUUP. HE GONNA MAKE YOU LOOOOSE YOUR MIIIIIND. AND EVERYBODY IS GONNA HAVE A GOOD TIME.
Items/Abilities: WITH JUST A SINGLE CLAP, AND INEXPLICABLE FEMALE BACKING VOCALS, AND INFEEEECTIOUS BEEEEAAATS, PARTY ROCK WILL HAVE YOU UNDER HIS CONTROL! WITH BLOOD POURING FROM YOUR EARS, YOU WILL OBEY HIS EVERY COMMAND, AND HIS EVERY COMMAND WILL BE TO DANCE! DAAAAAANCE!

Every day I'm shuffling

Biography: You know in the Party Rock music video where civilization collapses under the mad dancing crew? IT WAS A WARNING, AND THE CAUSE WRITTEN RIGHT THERE ABOVE THE VIDEOOOO.

Username: Dragon Fogel
Name: Diagnostic Prototype Unit G43-N
Race: Repairbot
Gender: None
Biography: The G-model repairbots were intended to go a step further.

Repair capabilities had already come a long way since the A-models and their singleminded focus on tightening loose bolts, screws, and nails. The F-models had already proven up to the task of reassembling the internal circuitry of some of the most delicate equipment, including other repairbots.

But there was still one key flaw, in customers' eyes: they needed to be told there was a problem. And so the emphasis on the G-models was creating diagnostic tools, so they could catch malfunctions before any serious accidents happened.

Prototype G43-N was equipped with a radar designed to scan for mechanical objects and detect deviations from standard specifications. The engineers had put a great deal of work into the system, and were eager to see how it performed in a test. They released the prototype into a sealed room filled with hundreds of appliances, some broken and some not.

Once everything was ready, they turned G43-N on.

And it promptly started trying to repair the air in front of it. Then one of the walls. Then a table, which did not react well to the built-in handsaw or blowtorch.

The test was called off, and there was a prompt review of the design. One of the engineers realized the problem - the G43-N's internal power source was completely throwing off the radar. They'd need to adjust either the power supply or the detection system to compensate.

However, when they went to retrieve the model in order to fix it for another test, they found it had disappeared.

Description: G43-N is a small, vaguely humanoid robot. It does not speak, though it will respond to certain voice commands. However, without an operating manual, no one's going to know what those commands are.
G43-N has no real personality, only a drive to fix whatever needs fixing. With its malfunctioning radar, though, it thinks a lot of things need fixing.

Weapons and Abilities: G43-N is equipped with a wide array of repair tools. It can access them at any time, provided it deems them appropriate to its current task.
Of course, it also has a radar system to help it determine what that task is, and said system is more than a little unreliable. It can easily decide very suddenly that anything - or anyone - needs "fixing" and it won't stop until it deems its job complete. Naturally, whether G43-N thinks the job is done has nothing to do with the actual condition of whatever it was trying to repair.

Username: Da
Name:
Race:
Gender:
Biography: certain self-replicating patt present within the continuum subject cannot enjoys speaking polish occupy mechanism o effect.

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Description: occupies a Motorola WX308. finds cnication difficult. Attempts speech through morse code issible. is slightly xenbic, dislikes non-audio lifef

Username: Garuru
Name: The White Noise
Race: Super... well not quite a hero anymore.
Color: white
Gender: ma-male
Description: His skin is white. I mean, very white. Like, drown out all semblance of colors and shadows white. His hair is slightly less white, but still pretty dang white. Other than that, though, he looks like a pretty ordinary superhero. His hair has been slicked back, and he has a pretty sturdy jawline. He's fairly well-built, if not a little stocky. He is dressed in a latex unitard, just tight enough to show off his muscles, but not his other assets. It is cut off around the elbow and the knees, to expose his skin. It even has a cape! All of it is white, of course, but it's more of an odd silvery white that repels dirt (very useful for laundry). His eyes, however, are another story. They are filled with fear and panic, and can never seem to focus on one thing at a time.

Items/Abilities: He is capable of producing a focused beam of pure white out of his body (mostly just his hands). What exactly this "pure white" is, is conveniently up for interpretation. It could be a form of energy, blasting enemies back (without drawing blood), or it could simply be light that fills up a dark tunnel. It could even be used to clean, such as stripping dust from something, or stripping color from something, or stripping flesh from someone's bones. Mostly, he uses it to rid the atmosphere of "noise", whether it be auditory or visual. Also, he can fly around and shit.

Biography: In his heyday, he used to be an independent superhero, working to protect Mayhem City from petty criminals and alien invaders. His name was White-Out!, with the exclamation mark absolutely required. He even had a logo of an exclamation mark on his chest. So, he would go around blasting bad guys with energy beams or cleaning up vandalism. This went on for a few years, and he was content with his job. However, Mayhem City was a big city, and not a friendly one. Criminals got more and more clever and brutal, terrorizing the city right under White-Out!'s metaphorical nose. He became less and less capable of keeping the city under control while simultaneously keeping a good public face and not harming civilians. Calls for help were becoming increasingly common, and he was getting visibly stressed by all the noise. One night, after a particularly brutal streak of assaults and robberies, he snapped. He killed this criminal instead of simply taking him in, as well as pretty much everyone in the vicinity. Horrified, he fled the scene.

While standing on a rooftop corner at night, he tore his logo off his chest, declaring himself no longer fit to be a superhero. However, crime still ran rampant. Thus, he became a vigilante, taking on the name The White Noise, and taking out criminals by whatever means necessary. Now, in addition to him hunting down and killing criminals, police were hunting him down as well. He simply could not get one day of peace. Eventually, his motivations changed from getting rid of criminals to getting rid of everything causing him stress. He became a cold-blooded, indiscriminate, murderer.

Username: solalala
Name: Screajalor
Species: Monster, Centrall-Wehstern
Gender: Male
Color: Purple
Description: Screajalor has the build of a gorilla, with giant beefy arms that lead to big clawed fists and smaller, but no less powerful legs. In addition to looking big and intimidating, the arms have powerful webbed wings which can sometimes act as a cloak, other times acting as gliders. Screajalor is covered in odd, coarse, black fur, even on his face. If there is a face under there, no one has seen it, other than a sharp toothed mouth.

While one may think that Screajalor is a brute due to the understandably imposing features, he is rather intelligent and spends his time traveling the Centrall District for interesting situations.

Weapons/Abilities: Screajalor's fur has an interesting property that allows him to detect and record any sort of nebulous sound that he is in the vicinity of. Said record can be distorted, edited, and spun backwards as Screajalor sees fit. This is of course, how he speaks. The closer Screajalor is to the ground, the more he feels, and if he focuses, he can hear as far as miles away.

In addition, Screajalor is of course, very strong, very intimidating, and very, very, tough to kill.

Biography: "He's somewhere around here, isn't he?"

Two medium sized creatures, one walking with six legs and pink with ribbons, the other standing on two with an arched back and black and blue with spikes, were walking around a dark tower.

"That's what the townspeople said... He apparently moved here a few days ago, he couldn't have moved away yet."

Outside, one of the largest storms that Central has ever seen is going on, with any person with a sense of survivability deep underground, far away from whatever horrors the storm may bring.

"You don't think that... that he's going to try to take on the storm are you?

Thunder cracks, with both of them feeling the air shift from the sound.

"I think that is exactly what he is doing."

The two continue their climb until they see a black mass standing at the top of the tower. Things have been rearranged so that what was once a large ballroom has become an open roof with every item in the room moved to a large pile in the center.

"I'm not going up there."

Thunder cracks again, this time followed by blue lightning, then red, green, and various other colors. The lighting and thunder flow with each other, almost fighting.

"This was a mistake," one of them attempts to say before realizing that the thunder and lighting are drowning out any and all attempts to speak.

They can only watch, frozen in fear as the storm carries on. What scares them the most, even more than the rainbow lights and sounds, and the flowing electricity, is that their target does not move throughout the entire ordeal.

After what seems like hours, the storm either passes, or ends, neither of them are sure of which it is, and Screajalor steps down from his pillar, completely fine.

"What business do you have with me?" says a voice unlike any other.

The two, still speechless, stare at each other. Yes, they have found the monster they are looking for, but it seems that he was so much more than they thought he was.

Username: Schazer
Name: Seric Anech
Species: Hibiqui, sometimes called Voxivora
Gender: Female
Color: Boom boom boom

Description: A very big (about five and a half feet tall), very fluffy white-and-grey moth-humanoid, the overall build resembling Bombyx mandarina. She’s got four furry arms, two very furry legs, and claws designed for delicate work. Seric, like other Hibiqui, cannot speak. Her wings are capable of lifting her, but not designed for sustained flight. She’s approaching the end of her lifespan, with all the accumulated wear and tear, so her wings and fur are a bit ragged in places, she’s missing a finger and a tip off her antenna, but on the whole has aged reasonably well.

At the time of abduction, she was wearing her travelling garb - a sturdy, helm-like hood with gauze sealing the opening at the front, with two flaps at the back for her antennae (they’re fully prehensile and used for hearing; in extreme conditions she’ll roll them up and keep them in the hood). With no functioning mouthparts, it’s the easiest way to protect her large, delicate eyes. Carefully knotted into her body fur are silk cocoons ranging from the size of a golf ball to a small melon. On each hip is a bag to store harvested silk, plus various tools. Most armor doesn’t fit her and boots mean she can’t move silently, but at her partner Rhea’s request, she’s got enchanted vambraces on all four arms, rerebraces on her upper pair, and a staff (ok it’s a long wand) pre-packaged with a few useful survival spells. They could afford it, so Rhea saw no reason why Seric shouldn’t head off on her excursions unprepared.

Seric can be nervous around large groups when Rhea’s not around, but a single stranger isn’t a real threat. She’ll mostly be worried sick about Rhea, but is a peaceful individual who’d only strike out in self-defence.

Weapons/Abilities: Hibiqui are an all-female species who produce predominantly-infertile offspring via parthenogenesis. They’ll produce roughly one egg per year for about half of their natural lifespan (about a century). The larvae are strepitovores (noise-eaters), producing Singing Silk when properly fed. Each is “keyed” to a particular range of noise, so Seric’s got one for laughter, one for birdsong, one for music, footsteps, the ocean, the crackling of fire, screams, clashing blades, and so on. When exposed to their preferred sound (Seric needs to cut a little flap in the cocoon), the larva eats it straight out of the air. This can make harvesting man-made noises like music difficult, as if your instrument falls silent mid-song, your instinct is rarely to continue playing.

Singing Silk “stores” the sound eaten by the grub which made it. Exposure to a single strand produces an auditory hallucination until contact is broken. When a fibre is broken, the sound is released. Seric can spin fibres into threads or cords to magnify these effects for defensive purposes, or mix Singing Silk with mundane fibres to produce cloth. Cloth made from pleasant noises, like birdsong or the ocean, is a luxury good and Seric’s main source of income. Silk made from song-eating or music-eating grubs is even more difficult to weave into an acoustically-pleasant whole, giving it even more outrageous value.

The last egg a Hibiqui produces will be the Voxivora - a grub whose diet consists solely of speech. The Voxivora is the only larva capable of pupation into an adult - evolutionarily, the sisters are there for their silk, which the mother uses to disorient predators which might approach the Voxivora during its vulnerable moult. Seric shares a psychic link with this one grub, commanding it to produce strings of words which allow her to communicate. She’s mute, otherwise.

A Hibiqui adult’s capacity for complex thought depends entirely on the ideas behind the words it absorbs as a pupa. As such, there’s a tradeoff for Seric between using her daughter’s silk to communicate with others, and depriving it of its optimum intelligence as an adult. This seems a countermeasure to stop others stealing and cultivating Hibiqui cocoons, as the adults don’t have words to explain the delicate rearing process (which almost certainly requires innate magics on the adult Voxivora’s part).

Biography: Seric entered adulthood like all other Voxivora - crawling out of the withered remains of her mother’s thorax, surrounded by a net of disjointed noise that extended out into the wastelands for several miles. Her first eggs were the howling of wind and predatory beasts, but subsequent eggs needed the sound of forests or mountains or seas. Like all Hibiqui, she instinctively knew what noise her new children needed, and travelled to ensure they wouldn’t starve.

She journeyed the Praeterwater for decades, having a few run-ins with civilisation but, where possible, avoiding it. The Hibiqui were, for the most part, a solitary species, rarely crossing paths with one another. Cursed with a life cycle that meant they had to steal voices before they had one of their own, their presence all-too-often became unfairly maligned, and the species was hunted down in many parts of Praeterwater. Seric lost a few eggs out of an unwillingness to venture into a city where they might feed, until she birthed the Voxivora and had to take the risk. She met an apprentice luthier called Rhea Anech, who quickly figured out why her instruments (and, you know, her vocal chords) stopped making noise around Seric, and Seric repaid her with Singing Silk, a single ream of which sold for enough to land the two some really nice apartments in the coastal Seakin city of Mon Sango.

Rhea was a fantastic mother, who spent lots of time just reading (if not quite aloud) to Seric and her daughter. The two had a happy cohabitation for close to fifty years, though Seric still travelled a lot to keep her “vegan” kids well-fed. The two were coming up with possible plans to train apprentices, stash silk, find a way that Seric could complete her life cycle without running off into the wilderness (maybe even teach Rhea how to tend to the cocoons), but these were interrupted by the battle.

Right, think I'm calling that for submissions.

Judgement will be in about 12 or so hours after i finish up real life responsabilities and get some sleep.

ALRIGHT.

First up, I See What You Did goes to Dalm, who put down a profile that seemed to be gunning for 20 questions but made the crucial mistake of not actually giving me many questions beyond "now what goes in this here blank?"

Solaris gets the Synergy award to go with Schazer's Above the Fold award - How would the two actually interact, I wonder?Also I just generally like the concept of audio munchin' Moth People. Gold Star.

Garuru runs off with the Backdoor world building for once more introducing us to a world that'd be interesting to watch but not particularly fun to live in along with the half mad sound-based super vigilante.

Agent gets the 20q award for confusing me, mostly because the profile was so sparse and I want to know more. How did this literal embodiment of THE ROCK come to be, how does it summon inexplicable female voices

Fogel gets the Dilligent Gentleman ward, if only to see how the little robot will do unnecessary 'repairs' to the other contestants, probably all the while causing quite the racket.

I didn't quite have a Best In Show this round as most y'all fit into one category or another, so I'm going to let you get in a screaming match over that one.

Sorry about the wait there. Whoever's next can do their thing, I'm out.

Hi um okay I'm doing this week's theme? Because I have delusions of being taken seriously with my writing or whatever, this week's original character theme is going to be pretentious and be: Illusion.

It's a fancy word, has a lot of ways you can take it, probably has pun potential, and I don't think has been done before really, hopefully? So, um, there you go.