NyNES: Might of the Pen

I'll wait. Probably post tomorrow. It's... rather long, and I don't have the time to split it up, at the moment.

He Made His Choice

Sybrus stood before the tower early the next day, feeling more refreshed than he had been in weeks. He looked over to his arm- the bandage was dry, as was the one on his head- he was healing quickly.

Around him were the surviving competitors of Carnivale: Tok-Tok, Nolan, Jiefin and Icekommander. Nolan stood still, gazing upwards at the imposing structure within which he had resided since the first day of competition. His once metal-clad arm was bare, and still deathly pale. Tok-Tok looked up with the same inscrutable expression he always wore, Strawman Hickles by his side. Jiefin stood, swaying slightly, the great stone Hungsu still resting in his muscular grip. Finally, Icekommander, only recently released from his sealed prison, looked on with a bored expression.

Bad feelings had little place now, whether by the unspoken truce of the competitors or some strange working of Carnivale, dulling any thirst for vengeance. A strange, almost anticipatory silence had befallen the island the previous night, and continued until now, the early morning.

Sybrus looked around for a moment, then stepped forward, pulling open the towering structure’s majestic doors. Within it was an atrium, with several halls extending off in the cardinal directions. In the center was what he had previously believed to be a broad structural column. However, now its sides had split open, revealing a grand elevator to the uppermost levels of the tower. Together, the group entered the great round column.

“This is it then...” murmured Nolan, scratching idly at his arm. Tok-Tok looked around with fascination at the structure, which he had yet to visit in a conscious state, while Icekommander raised his eyebrows, possibly in appreciation of the architecture. Jiefin hesitated for some time, before trudging heavily forward. The elevator sagged with his weight as he stepped in.

“Yes, whatever lies at the top is the that for which we have strived all this time.” spoke Sybrus, half to himself.

Icekommander gave Sybrus a pensive look.

“What sort of prize were you promised?”

“I’ve only heard of the prize the others on Carnivale... I was just here to... pay off an old debt...” Sybrus paused for a moment, putting on a curious smile, “Although it seems that I might be here for something more than that now.”

“I came in search of fame and treasure for my village.” rumbled Jiefin in a thick accent. Sybrus turned around and blinked- he had never before heard the huge man speak anything beyond his own strange language, other than a collection of universally-understood grunts and growls.

“I thought the prize was money.” suggested Nolan.

“I don’t need to fight for some petty reward.” remarked Icekommander, a smirk on his face.

It was now that the previously silent Tok-Tok spoke up.

“It’s all of those, those things you’ve said. The reward to the winner is a wish, a wish, a single chance to change something on a whim, on a desire! It’s whatever you want it to be, once you can imagine it!”

The elevator came to a perfectly smooth stop, rising into the room beneath the glassy pinnacle of the tower. Sybrus stepped out and was immediately shocked by the sight. He was in what had perhaps just days ago been a luxurious study- but it was now a ruin. A torn portrait of a man, tall and noble in appearance, with a trimmed beard and a golden timepiece extending from his suit pocket, lay on the floor.

With a weak ring, a grandfather clock, smashed and bent out of shape, attempted to announce the half hour. Scattered books and pieces of pottery were spread unevenly over the lush red carpet. Most strange of all, was an area completely clear of debris, in a neat radius around a collection of black metal, strange coiled machinery built into one of the walls- the only break in the otherwise full circle of windows around the room. Beside a downed bookshelf, a collection of panes were smashed out, letting a light wind wander throughout the area.

“Hello?” ventured Sybrus, gazing around the room.

Suddenly, triumphal music began to play from some unknown speakers. Tok-Tok jumped in surprise, and the others looked around for the source.

Somewhere in an unseen portion of the room, a prone figure rose from the floor and rapidly brushed himself off, before setting off in purposeful strides towards the central elevator platform, where the competitors still stood.

Sybrus saw a man approach- the same one who he had seen in the portrait- but he immediately recognized something amiss. His appearance was unkempt, his tailored, pinstriped suit scuffed and torn, and the gentle glint in his eyes had faded to darkness.

“May the victor... please step forward.”

With an uncertain step, Sybrus advanced and looked up- the man was tall- just a little higher than himself.

“Tok-Tok is correct, as I am sure you all have felt in your hearts. Every person in this world is driven by their wishes, their goals, their deepest desires. This is the driving force of the world, these wishes, and they are what my fair island is all about. Each of you, and all of those who have fallen, were chosen by each of your uniquely powerful driving spirits.

Nolan, the berserker, you escaped physically unscathed from a most terrible conflict, but mentally broken. You turned to these chemicals and elixirs, first for solace, and then for strength. You tamed the power of the unknown, without a care for your own wellbeing, forcing yourself onward through whatever fell in your way, even when you could see no end in sight.

Icekommander, lord and scourge of winter, you have fought for the sheer love of combat and with desire for no prize beyond the thrill of victory. For this, you are unique, and powerful in a way that none of your peers could understand.

Tok-Tok, child of a murdered mother, manipulator of the waters, the struggle of your purity and innocence with your twisted heritage and dark destiny is one the likes of which is rarely seen in any of the worlds. Your struggles are yet to truly begin, but when they do, we shall see the power that lies dormant within you erupt, and your father shall tremble before you.

Jiefin, mightiest son of the Huphata, your heart is pure and good, your body raw and strong. You have never ceased to uphold and bring pride to your kin, and have brought great glory to them. Hungsu, O elder being, it is truly a mighty man who wields you, and you are his great protector. May you continue to be so for many years to come.

Finally, Sybrus, the machine man, you have survived that which should have killed a man’s body many times, and would have mangled his heart beyond repair. You persisted through the terrible machines of the Vernelli Corporation when half of your body did not, their crude reconstruction, and the loss of all that you held dear- your friends, your family... as you once believed, your humanity- but despite this, you have strived to live on, to fight that which cannot be defeated, to aid those who scorn you, to live on no matter the odds.”

By the end of his speech, the man was beginning to look increasingly haggard, his eyes twitching about nervously in their sockets.

“It is for these wishes, gentlemen, that you have all come to this place- to complete a great cycle which has gone on throughout the ages!”

“To do what?”

The man seemed as if he was on the verge of descending into a nervous fit.

“To take these things, these great wishes and virtues... to make them... to make- you... MINE!”

With a sudden movement, he activated a remote in his pocket, and the black machine in the wall buzzed to life. In an instant, the competitors collapsed to the ground, writhing as the terrible thing seemed to scour away their psychological interiors, draining them into itself.

Sybrus, thrashing about, saw several others around doing the same around him. All were on the floor save Icekommander, who simply stood still, frozen in place. Hungsu lay where it had fallen- Sybrus could not even begin to wonder what was happening within its’ mind.

Desperately straining, the cyborg clenched his teeth and raised his head up to stare at the bearded man.

“What are you doing!?” he gasped.

“I am taking my wish! My beautiful daughter will be back, these years of my work will not be wasted!”

Sybrus collapsed back to the floor, feeling as if he was clenching down on something within himself, keeping it from being drawn out. His minds raced through the implications of the man’s words.

“Wait! If-” Sybrus struggled to speak, “You had the power of a wish, you would waste it to alter a single life!?”

“The power of all of the spirits on this island, of all the competitors...” raved the man, “I need it!”

“No! If this power- argh!” Sybrus groaned in pain as the dark machines surged, “Is real, you are squandering it!”

“You will not kill her again!”

“But- you’d- kill- millions, just to save a single person!”

“It’s my wish!” bellowed the man, now barely audible above the roaring machines.

“But not mine!”

“I have taken it for my own! Now, die!”

“I would wish for all of humanity to lose that tiny bit of fear that holds them back,”

“No! Silent!”

“That keeps them away from each other, that holds them separate,”

The black machines were now arcing with energy, spinning too fast to see. A blinding light was now blazing from them.

“That fear which condemns us to our long lives, walking together in a crowd but forever alone.”

The man, now just a silhouette in front of the blazing light, screamed unintelligibly at Sybrus, who roared on undaunted.

“I would wish that we as a people could come just a little closer together, to stand up united for what we know to be right, for what we cannot do alone.”

“I would wish for us to have this strength, to unite against those who oppress us, to stand together as allies

“To bring about goodness in the world, to bring an end to the forces of repression and isolation,”

“To bring about an end to cruel indifference! That would be my wish.”

“Nooooo!”

The man screamed, flailing his arms in the air. The machines froze with a crash, and the energy which they were absorbing flooded out. Sybrus felt as if he were whole again, at least in spirit if not in body- and similar gasps of relief were heard around the room.

Looking up, Sybrus saw the man standing hunched, his face a twisted mask of madness and grief. He cried out, thrashing and sobbing. Sybrus opened his mouth to speak, but the man was lost to the world. His eyes suddenly fixed on the broken window pane, dilating to pinpricks. His mouth fell open, gibbering, while his hands writhed together. Then, he launched himself. With an incredible sprint, he hurled his body towards the window, smashing through the glass and falling, screaming, out of sight.

The competitors remained at rest where they were, exhausted. At last, the journey was over.

He Bid Carnivale Farewell

It was a warm mid afternoon, and Sybrus was back on the dock for the first time since his arrival. He stood near the others, bathing in the soothing light and enjoying his last few moments on the island. He looked around for the little girl who he had encountered several times on Carnivale, but she was nowhere to be found. Odd.

The survivors sat together, talking and reminiscing- it was a bizarre sense of camaraderie that they seemed to possess.

“No man knows another better than one who has had his life held in another’s hands.” as Icekommander had said.

“So, Sybrus,” began Tok-Tok, “Did you really make the wish I heard? Did you say it, or truly wish it?”

“Yeah,” added Nolan, “And what a weird wish that was- did you plan it or something?”

“Well... in a sense.”

“But really-” interjected Icekommander, “Of all the wishes you could have made-”

“That was the one that I could make without ever having to feel guilt or doubt afterwards.” laughed Sybrus.

“But that’s not the reason you made that wish.”

Sybrus’ laugh faded to a distant smile.

“That’s true... it’s not.”

“You think it actually was a wish? I’m not inclined to entirely trust whatever that nutter in the tower said.”

“Maybe it was,” mused Sybrus, “Maybe it wasn’t. Whatever it was, it stopped those machines, and distressed him enough to make him jump.”

“And if it actually was real?” asked Icekommander.

“Even if we accept the existence of ‘wishes’, any wish that vast couldn’t have had a major effect- I don’t think I even worded it to do anything beyond small, simple changes- it was mostly filler. Besides, do you feel any different?”

“Well, I remember hearing what you said...” considered Nolan, “But I don’t know if that counts.”

“If enough people believe it, maybe it becomes true.” suggested Tok-Tok.

“If enough people believed it,” responded Icekommander, “It’d be a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Either way...” said Sybrus, fading out into silence. The former competitors looked off to the next dock over, where many of the spectators were loading onto a ferry. They sat in silence for a while, before the faint sound of squeaking wheels began to grow.

Tok-Tok jumped to his feet. It was Strawman Hickles, riding in his ox cart.

“Ye lookin’ fer a ride, laddie?”

“Sure! Let us go!”

“I suppose it’s about time for me as well.” said Nolan, standing up and brushing off his pants.

The oddly-proportioned Tok-Tok clambered onto the cart, deftly dropping a halm hat back on Hickles’ head.

“Good bye!” Tok-Tok waved and grinned, while Hickles gave a smiling nod and set off. As they moved, the two seemed to play tricks on the eyes, as it became increasingly difficult to focus the eyes upon them. Sybrus squinted, and saw the cart disappearing down a long, countryside road, fading away into the open sea. Meanwhile, Nolan was fading away, but somehow in a different way. His destination was a gentle suburb of green grass and white wooden homes, orderly and neat. Some figures were waving to him, barely visible in the distance. Sybrus blinked, but could not find the focus again, and Nolan was gone.

“Good bye, strange men of metal and ice. Jiefin was turning away, loading onto a large wooden boat rowboat. Sybrus had not noticed the boat’s presence just a second ago, but he was by now well aware of the spatial anomaly that was Carnivale. Ahead of Jiefin was another shadowy island, a short distance away. He began to pull the oars, and accelerated away from the dock with terrific speed.

“Best wishes.” thought Hungsu, as the pair faded off into the distance. Sybrus bowed his head, wondering if the pun was intentional, then watched until he could see nothing more of the boat or the mysterious island. Now, he turned to Icekommander.

“Well... for what it’s worth, I bid you well- and sorry again for the fire.”

“Don’t be bothered by it, it’s healthy for me to scour off the old hoar frost every once in a while. You are an admirable fighter and definitely a worthy opponent. I would be happy to do battle again.”

Sybrus nodded slightly, then looked back over at the icy human.

“Are you staying here?”

“I’ve got my own way of getting off. It seems that you have yours too.”

Sybrus turned around- a mechanized hydrofoil was pulling up to the end of the dock.

“Well...” Sybrus couldn’t think of what to say, so he backed away, nodding and giving a small wave of farewell. Icekommander gave a mock salute in reply.

“Goodbye.”

Sybrus turned around and stepped into the automated vessel. He sat down on a bench along the side, and looked around at his surroundings. They were vaguely familiar.

“Nakai Corporation?” he asked, looking up at the speaker.

“No. Sveren. Welcome aboard sir.”

Sybrus Brayne nodded and leaned back in his seat, enjoying the feeling of acceleration on his body as the hydrofoil sped away from Carnivale. A chill breeze passed behind the vessel, and the docks were now empty.

The long competition was over. But for the survivors, they would move on, carving out their own narratives as they did. Their great stories were only just beginning.

Alright... [cracks neck] ... let's get this going, shall we?

As I said before, it's long, so I have no idea how many posts it'll require. It might even rival yours, Iggy.

I don't really have an explicit title. You can call it "The Ending" if it makes you feel better. I tried to tie up loose strings, in both mine and Iggy's stories as well as in Ny's posts. I may have missed a few, but I did try. To accomplish this, I took perhaps a few liberties with others' characters, and I hope they forgive me for any misinterpretations I may have made in the telling. This final story isn't Kyle's, but the carnival's, and of those within it.

I think, perhaps, that many people didn't quite get Kyle - or maybe my vision of him changed over the course of the NES. As Ny said, he sounded kinda happy-go-lucky at the start, but from Iggy's story here he's much more... well, evil. I never saw him as either of those, but granted, I had some kind of idea of where I was going with all this. He isn't evil, or at least, isn't anymore... Anywho, enough with the meaningless prose, let's get to story time.

Spoilered to keep things a little clean. I do have to apologize, this is all from Notepad via email to the forums, and the transition hasn't been kind to formatting. Hopefully, section breaks are somewhat obvious, and the unplanned double-spacing doesn't seem to be a negative to readability.


EDIT: Done. I probably could've condensed everything to four, or even three, posts... but the time required to exactly determine where to split things just isn't worth it. Anyway, Iggy, I salute you for a fine story, and wish you luck.

That's an awesome view of Carnivale there orangelex. I had a great time reading it.

Yeah, it was interesting Kyle's character. From his actions in the previous story, I was building up an image of someone who had put up a fun, likeable facade, but was hiding something extremely dark within.

I have to say, I liked the interpretation of Sybrus as the irritatingly enthusiastic guy. I can very clearly picture him appearing that way to an outside viewer.

That's the interesting thing about these stories- all of them reveal the biases of their narrators, justified or not. It seems that Sybrus views himself as an embattled outcast and who strives to be a moral humanist, while Kyle viewed himself as a pseudo-intellectual 'last sane man', and generally cool dude. It's interesting to think that Sybrus' second impressions of Kyle as being a cold-hearted, diabolical killer could be entirely the result of misinterpretation of his actions and motivations- Kyle's intentions could have been to incapacitate Sybrus in the most efficient method possible with his first unannounced shot, in order to win the competition for the reasons explained in orangelex's story. And perhaps he had not even intended to fire his concealed weapon until Sybrus was winding up for his killing blow.

At any rate, it's great that this awesome NES has made it to this point, and I can't wait to see how Nylan ties it up. I hope a bunch of the earlier competitors show up to comment, or maybe add their own little finishing stories.

Yes, the multiple "realities" really make this NES what it is, and you've both understood that so well. Even though there is only one canon storyline in the end, all of the entries are a part of this world and I consider them full and valid parts of this work. Judging is proving to be very difficult, but I can guarantee you I'll have everything finished by Tuesday, if not earlier.

And I, too, would like comments from our other competitors. They're part of what has made this story what it is, after all.

Sooo... How are things going Nylan? We've done our part.

Everyone has a wish. They give us focus. They give us something to reach for. They bring about journeys from which we draw the most precious memories of our lives…memories which some might argue make us who we are. Every experience molds us. Every trial tempers us…or breaks us apart. That is simply the transient nature of these lives that seem to last as long as the time it takes a cherry blossom to fall to the ground.

Dreams fail. That too is a fact of life. All too often, they bleed over into the dreams of others, which creates conflict. Sometimes the price of one dream may be the sacrifice of many others. Those sacrifices create imbalance in the world, and imbalance brings suffering. Perhaps, then, the question is how best to juggle one’s one dreams in tandem with the integrity of others. Perhaps it is only how to enjoy the journey, without worrying about whether or not a wish is attainable. Perhaps there are greater, more important wishes buried deep within us, wishes that conflict with our desire to attain those more obvious dreams at all cost. Perhaps there is an invisible thread that ties us all together.

At least, that is what a certain young girl thought as she sat at the end of the dock, watching dark shapes disappear over the horizon. She smiled. Perhaps, she thought as she swung her feet on the edge of that place where it had all begun , my own journey is only beginning.

The winner of the NyNES Storywriting Competition is:

Congratulations orangelex!

Huh... thanks a bunch, Iggy. Honestly, I thought you had it in the bag...

And thanks to Ny as well, for running a splendid little NES.

And are we the only guys left now? It seems everyone else has left the thread.

DeLurk: Congrats to all, this was a good deal of fun to read.

Would anyone mind if I used this concept for my own NES. Having graduated, I have a lot of time to kill and something like this seems fun to run.