NyNES: Might of the Pen

Good stories, everyone. :)


A number of players have had various issues of concern come up and have requested that I extend the deadline, and as such I will expect their submissions Sunday at 8:00 PM EST. This will not be a regular occurance, but I do not think it would be wise to disqualify the majority of our players before even the first round has finished. Those who have not yet spoken with me better explain themselves and get their entries in pronto, or they will be disqualified.

Thanks everyone for making this fun so far. 20 minutes to original deadline.
 
Innocence

Anesthesia thought this place to be very strange. She had arrived with the hope that everything would be over quickly, that there would be no complications. It seemed, however, that others had decided themselves worthy of her prize. This was unacceptable.

The strangest thing of all, though, had been the girl near the entrance. She had given her pain, and she had not cringed, nor even flinched, not even when the pain was at such levels that most individuals would have awoken from it with broken minds. The only possible conclusion that could be drawn was that the girl was perfectly innocent, a truly just and righteous person, just like her. That, of course, was also unacceptable. It would be dealt with later.

It wasn't all bad, though. She had found another pet cricket soon after coming, placing it in the cage and smiling at it. But she didn't talk to it. That would be crazy. Everyone knows insects can't talk.

Currently, she was remembering. She found herself incapable of sleep, and so she remembered instead. It was a very efficient use of time. She remembered that she had heard something about being paired with an opponent, but she had not been paying much attention. One at a time or all at once, she would kill everyone here, every contestant. Normally she would not, but they were in her way. She could only hope that all of them were guilty.

Anesthesia continued to remember for quite some time, before the interruption. It was often difficult to tell exactly how long she did so for, but this did not bother her. Nothing much bothered her anymore. It was certainly quite some time, though, as the sun had changed its position, from one side of the sky to the other.

The interruption was, as would be expected, one of the contestants. This one seemed to be a wrestler or something of the sort. Regardless, he was a truly enormous fellow, although she sensed something rather simple in him, something a bit innocent, a bit naive. This kill would be an unfortunate one, and she felt the need to speak to him, to explain, before it was over.

"Hello, Innocent One. I had not thought to meet your kind here." He seemed somewhat confused by her choice of words, but this was of little consequence. These words were for herself, not for him, an oral representation of the office she held.

"I sense nothing evil about you. You do not even intend to kill me. For this, I will honor you with the greatest of gifts. I will show you beauty, and your death will be a painless one." At this, his confusion was evident, but it was no longer time to worry about that. The removal of obstacles such as this one was an unfortunate but necessary step towards the greater good.

Anesthesia did not move for several more moments, waiting for the man to respond, to attack, to run away. He did none of these things, seemingly too puzzled to act at all. She made up her mind, then, and removed her sword from within it's hiding place in the much-dirtied police uniform she still wore.

The sword itself was somewhat ludicrous, if you knew anything of how swords were made. It was thin, curved, and razor-sharp; however, looking closely, it was obvious that the sword did not have the durability to deal a killing blow, nor even to cut deep enough to hit the bone. Anesthesia could see that the man knew this, and the imperceptible relaxation as a result was something she noted with a mild irritation.

"Nice sword. I didn't know girls liked to play with swords." She ignored the comment, and instead began to concentrate. She looked into the mind of the man before her and removed all pain, all discomfort. Nervousness melted away, irritation, as well as some more beneficial emotions, such as wariness.

The other part of her skill was worked on her cricket. She poured pain into the cricket's mind, far more than the human mind was capable of processing. She felt the rush, the same as it always was, the feeling of power that was so much greater than anything another person could feel. She stood a moment longer, savoring the feel, before beginning.

She moved so quickly that she could be perceived only when changing directions. The movements themselves were lithe, beautiful to such a degree that they could only be appreciated by true masters of the sword. The distance between herself and the man was closed almost before he could react, the opponent having only time to enter into a defensive stance, lowering his center of gravity and raising his arms.

Here was when the real work began, when the real beauty showed. Her sword was a special design, razor-thin but with no durability. She cut only the skin, and only along major veins and arteries. She was so fast that, while the man continually tried to grapple with her, his hands were doing little but chasing afterimages of her true self.

Her speed and her victim's inability to feel pain meant that he ignored the majority of the wounds dealt to him, sometimes not noticing them at all, at other times simply assuming them less of a bother than they really were. Anesthesia refrained from dealing a killing blow, both because she felt this man deserved more and because his neck and wrists were too well-guarded.

The final blows of the fight were the most important. Her sword severed several important tendons in his legs, causing him to collapse, obviously puzzled as to where his lack of mobility stemmed from. It was only then that she stopped moving, standing still above and to the left of him, letting the cricket's mind go while continuing to siphon away the man's pain.

"Did you see the beauty? It is truly a great honor for you that it was shown, but I must know if it was seen." The man still seemed more puzzled than hurt, for at this point the fight had lasted less than a single minute. He did not answer. This refusal was followed by some mild irritation.

"I should have known this was not worth it. It is time now for you to die. But I shall be here, and I shall help you along the path, Innocent One." The man did not seem convinced and, as she knelt down beside him, one of his hands grabbed her throat, squeezing with considerable might.

Anesthesia blacked out for a moment. When she awoke, the man was lying there, still alive, but obviously in a great deal of pain; she checked herself for injuries, and realized that she would have to get her windpipe looked at sometime soon. It was obvious, though, that the man could not live. But she still did not wish him to suffer. She did not wish anyone to suffer. She removed his pain again, and he became lucid once again, the final time. And she revealed to him her plan, before finishing his life and walking away. She said, "I go now to understand. You cannot, and you may not, but I will make a wish for you, Innocent One. May your afterlife be a pleasant one."

---

OOC: Sorry about the lateness. Like I said, I thought it was due in about 12 hours, and I couldn't get it up at all yesterday, as I did not have access to my computer.
 
Vert, Hungsu can only change shape, and only does so for the Huphata's. I don't really know what exactly you had him doing in your story, I'd just like to tell you (and I guess anyone else who cares) that.
 
The rock has a mind and is alive to some degree correct? If that is so he will be able to give energy to Cabera so he can make the second transfer in his weakened state and leave Hungsu alone to sleep. If this is incorrect I can remove that part of the story as it has no actual relevance to the combat. It was just an attempt to applease lj and the others amongst you who think Cabera is overpowered.
 
Well, I guess he has some energy with him that he could give. I wouldn't necessarily say he's "alive", but I think he'd still have "enegy" within him that he sues to make actions and stuff. I'm a-Okay with your story Vert.
 
I cannot find the time to write a decent story, so Nolan gets iced early:(shame too, had a background story and everything) Iggy is the winner by default.

PS. Great story Iggy you deserve the victory anyway even though it was default because that story would have crushed anything I could have sent at it regardless.
 
I cannot find the time to write a decent story, so Nolan gets iced early:(shame too, had a background story and everything) Iggy is the winner by default.

Sorry to hear it.

PS. Great story Iggy you deserve the victory anyway even though it was default because that story would have crushed anything I could have sent at it regardless.

Now we'll have none of that. :nono:
 
That's not the case condor, and I would have quite liked to see how Nolan would have dealt with Sybrus.

Um, glad you liked the story though.
 
You all better hope Nylan's list is up to date, because I'm going to read the stories based off that. I haven't even begun reading the stories, really. I prefer to read them all in one big swoop.
 
Where is this list? If it is on the front page with the backstories, then my battle story is not there.
 
Look again :p
 
I see, looked in the wrong one, sorry. It is there... enjoy.
 
When do we get the results, scores, update or something at least from the judges and mod?
 
I won't give a hard deadline, but judging should only take a day or two for this go-around.
 
OOC: It's crap and it isn't properly proofread, but it's here and I'm going to bed. :p Will edit later.



Round One Results: Blood Sport


“D’yeh mind!?”
“Oh, sorry…”

James ducked away from the window and out of the man’s way. The last thing he wanted tonight was trouble. The day had been eventful enough without starting a bar fight, even if it meant he couldn’t see what was going on outside. Thus having to wait until the results were announced to find out what had happened was an acceptable price to pay. For now, he needed to find somewhere to stay the night.

As the bar door closed behind him, trapping the smoke and ruckus inside, James found himself in the cold, dark hallway. His footsteps echoed as he made his way towards the elevator, and he hugged his coat around himself tightly as he waited for the doors to open. Why is it so cold in here? he wondered. This tower was much larger than it looked. There was a lot he didn’t understand about this place.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator, as well as muffled voices. Uh oh, not good. I’d better hide! He darted around the corner and looked around, but could find no cover. The hall was entirely empty, and he knew those doors were locked from his first time heading down this way. He would just have to hope they decided to go in a different direction. He stayed flush against the wall and did his best to quiet his breathing, although he could do nothing about the taiko drum in his chest.

Fortunately, whoever was in the elevator was rather drunk, and seemed to be headed for the bar to dull whatever motor skills they had left.

“D’yeh see what happened wi’ the crazy guy?”
“Which one?”
“Y’know, the crazy guy!”
“What, th’ one who likes to stand on top of the ferris wheel?”
“No, not that one. He got shish-kebab’d! The other one!”
“I dunno what yer talkin’ about Bill.”

--

{Icekommander vs. Germanicus results in an Icekommander victory}

--

There was a loud thump. James could only assume it was Bill running into the door.

“Hey, why didn’ it open? Anyway….th’ crazy guy totally exploded the dude’s mind. It was awesome!”

--

{Merc. vs. Cabera results in a Cabera victory}

--

They finally got the door open, and light spilled onto the hallway floor. James could see the silhouettes of a number of the patrons, all of which seemed to be having a merry time, so far as he could tell. Why they seemed to enjoy watching people kill one another, he didn’t know. All he did know was that he needed to keep track of how everyone was doing, as well as gauge how much time he had left. If he was going to find his objective, it needed to be now, before the competition was over. James slipped quietly into the elevator and punched the button for the ground floor. He was hoping that perhaps he could find some abandoned side show to sleep in for now. He also hoped all the fighting for the day was over, as the last thing he wanted to wake up to was an insane woman with a scythe or something of the sort.

Upon reaching his destination, he found that his view into the corridor was obstructed by a young girl. James didn’t know why, as she didn’t exactly look threatening, but looking at her terrified him. He jammed another button and the doors closed as quickly as they had opened. Who was that girl? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. She didn’t seem to have noticed him, but that meant little in this madhouse….


***************************************************​


An ill wind blew, coughing and wheezing. It was on its metaphorical last legs. With a sputter, it died, and the night was still.

The girl from the docks waited at the observation tower, waiting. It was far too early for these kinds of things. He appeared on the horizon, holding another man's body. She opened the door and stepped outside, still dressed the same way as before. Who knows, maybe that was her uniform after all. What is she doing here? he thought, but said nothing. Wordlessly, their eyes met, and he knew what he had to do. He handed Nolan over, gingerly, and she took him gracefully.

She patted his shoulder, the mechanical one, without flinching, or even giving a sign that it was abnormal for a half-metal man to be walking around.

"He'll be taken care of," she said, almost in a whisper. Sybrus's face collapsed into relief, and she turned around, walked into the observation tower, and gently nudged the door closed with her foot.

--

{Sybrus vs. Nolan results in a Sybrus victory}

--

A little while later, the sound of a girl whistling could be heard. It was a cheerful little tune that was almost guaranteed to become stuck in any unaware listener's head. In short, it was madly annoying.

Hardly any flies were buzzing around. The kill was too fresh. A knife lay on the ground, unused. The steady click, click, click of heels could be heard, in a slow crescendo that never got very loud. The girl arrived, her Mary Janes spotless. Upon arriving at the body, she neatly avoided stepping in the splotches of blood littering the the floor. Kneeling down, she picked the knife up. It had some interesting carvings on it. She did a few fancy juggling tricks with it and then returned it to its sheath. She picked the man up and walked away...

--

{Thuraen vs. Kyle results in a Kyle victory}

--


***************************************************​


The park grew quiet. Night had settled in, and all of the combatants were either licking their wounds or dead. Indeed, that is why the silence was so unsettling. Just a few hours ago, there had been lights, crashes, and screams. Now there was peace. The contrast bothered James…it bothered him a lot. There was something very wrong with this place, and as crazy as the contestants were, they weren’t the primary source of his discomfort

He rose from the box he had been sitting on and left the window, climbing over to his makeshift “bed” of medical bandages. He wasn’t entirely confident that the clinic’s supplies would be enough to hold them through the night, but it was a risk he was willing to take at this point. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was surrounded by psychotic killers, some of which could destroy your mind as easily as your body...but most of all, he missed his sister.

As he drifted off, James thought he heard her voice. "Lily...", he mumbled in response, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I promise I'll never let anything bad happen to you again...no, Lily, please don't go...please...I'll make it better...please...I'd do anything for you...I promise it will be alright..."

As sinister as this place felt...perhaps some good would come of it after all.

--

{Steven vs. Tok-Tok results in a Tok-Tok victory}

--


***************************************************​


As the former shooting gallery retired into a life of laying around all deconstructed, a mysterious girl walked in, surveying the damage. Without even batting an eye, she strode over to the ruins of the demolished building. Somehow, a rifle, still intact, was visible from the ruins. She knelt down and extracted it, then skillfully flipped it and brought it up to aim it. She pointed it at a raven off in the distance.

"Bang," she whispered, in a voice as sweet as molasses, which was to say that it wasn't terribly sweet but was pretty cute and girly nonetheless.

Settling the gun down, she turned to the body of the woman on the floor.

"Anesthesia," she breathed, kneeling and cradling the woman's head in her arms. Stroking her hair softly, she gave the woman a kiss on the forehead. She laid her head gently on the ground, stood up, smoothed her plaid skirt, and reached into her shirt pocket. Withdrawing a note, she opened the woman's right hand and closed her fist around it. She would find it for sure. Humming a tune, the girl walked away.

A few minutes later, after the girl had left the vicinity, Anesthesia awoke with a start. She craned her neck and looked left and right. What had happened? She was so sure she had died back there. There was no sign of Jiefin, but in her right hand was a note. She sat up and unrolled it. In a simple script, it read: Anesthesia, I have given you a second chance at life. There was no signature, no indication of who had written it. All Anesthesia could tell was that it had probably been written by a girl. The heart over the "i" in life was the clue.

Bewildered, she stuck the note in her pocket, and went to the Observation Tower...

--

{Jiefin vs. Anesthesia results in a Jiefin victory.}

--


OOC Notes: Anesthesia will continue on to the next round, as we have selected her as the loser with the best written story, and it brings our numbers to 8. It wouldn't be fair for Anesthesia, being such an intriguing character, to be eliminated when Fuschia wrote an excellent story while many others did not write at all.

The Splotch will also stay with us for now, as his opponent dropped out and his backstory is comprehensive.

New matchups will be posted this weekend. For now, feel free to write in some character development. A special thanks to LightFang for his contributions to this update.

The Victors:
Jiefin
Cabera
Icekommander
Sybrus
Kyle
Tok-Tok
The Splotch

A Second Chance:
Anesthesia
 
All I have to say is, I hope the turnout is better this time around! Judging shouldn't be such an easy process! You are supposed to make us agonize over our decisions, rather than not submitting entries. :(
 
Nice update Nylan? Do we have some time to write stories before the next round begins?
 
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