NyNES: Might of the Pen


Characters Welcome
Feb 27, 2004
Clow Country
I have decided to create a “NES” entirely based upon something that has been a fundamental part of NESing since the very beginning: collaborative storytelling. However, rather than just creating a world where people control countries without much in the way of rules, I have decided to take this aspect of NESing and point it in a different direction. This is a writing tournament, and I have loosely based it on the popular Original Character Tournaments found elsewhere on the internet. Through participation in this competition, the members of the NES forum will weave together a cohesive story with a life of its own.

(Vague, Preliminary) Plot Summary

Word is announced of a fighting tournament being held in a mysterious, abandoned amusement park far from civilization (known only as “Carnivale”), and the prize for winning is listed merely as “one wish”. Some fighters come of their own accord and eager to fight for their chance to make their dreams come true or change their lot in life. Others are…compelled. Upon arrival, there seems to be no way to get back out, except perhaps…

The Tournament

You will create a character and enter them in the competition, beginning with an entry where they find themselves in the amusement park. This entry should demonstrate a little of their personalities and what they are capable of (NOTE: This is submitted before matchups are posted and the first round begins). Each round, you will be paired up against another player. Each of you must write a story with your character defeating your opponent’s character. The judges will select which story was better and that character will move on, while the other will be eliminated from the competition. Victory goes to the last character still in the competition.


Those who are eliminated from or are not part of the competition may post what are known as “spectator entries”, where a character of their creation is in the carnival observing the competition. There is an observation tower in the middle of Carnivale, where the friends and family of competitors have been invited to watch the competition. Spectators do not have to stay in the tower; however, any character on Carnivale grounds is free game for the competitors.


-Anyone can enter! :) Please don’t hesitate to give it a try. Have some fun writing!

-Fan-characters will not be accepted. Do not introduce any characters from an existing franchise you do not yourself own. Any sort of special abilities, magic powers, or weapons you bring with you are allowed, just remember that good story writing is the name of the game

-Characters will be allowed to summon, have familiars, etc. However, you cannot squeeze an army into one slot as a “character”. If you include more than one person in your battles, then one must be your primary combatant while the other offers minimal aid

-Battles can be written however you like, so long as they end in your defeat of your opponent. Of the utmost importance is preserving story canon (entries from the winners of previous rounds) and capturing the personality of your opponent’s character.

-Battles don’t necessarily have to end with your opponent’s character getting mutilated or focus entirely on your character’s sweet moves. The focus should be on creativity and originality, and it just has to be a “defeat”. Write the way you like to write, and don’t be afraid to express yourself or try something new. Essentially, just demonstrate your character defeating their opponent, and give the judges a reason to want to see more of them.

-Quality trumps quantity

-Since a nice clean 1 – 2 – 4 – 8 – 16 – 32 tournament isn’t likely, we are going to have to improvise. If there is an odd number left, a group may have three contestants or one player may be given a bye. Matchups will be randomized each round to ensure fairness.

-Lurker comments are encouraged, so long as they are on topic

-The judges’ words are law

-Above all, HAVE FUN :) That’s what it’s all about, really

Entry Submission Process

As soon as matchups for a particular round have begun, you may begin writing your entry. You needn’t wait for the deadline to submit it, and revisions will be acceptable until the submission deadline. Once that deadline has passed, no further entries will be accepted and posts that have been edited will be considered invalid. If you need an extension, do not hesitate to ask for one.

Entries are submitted by posting them in the thread with ROUND X ENTRY: and your story’s title. They can be submitted all at once or in segments (which I understand is preferable to some players). However, each part of the story must be linked to the other portions of the entry so the judges aren’t hopping around the thread looking for your conclusion.

Please also remember that your entry is entirely independent of your opponent’s, and as such only one of them will become part of the canon of the tournament. If you acknowledge your opponent’s entry for that round in your own story, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.

After the winners of each round are announced, you are more than welcome to ask for a more specific critique of your entry, but only after judging for that round has completed. Improving our collective writing skills is an objective of this tournament

Judging Criteria

While it is difficult to define hard-and-fast rules for something like a writing competition, this section exists simply to give you a general idea of the sort of things the judges will be looking for. They are no more than guidelines, but they are a good place to start.

-character development

-compatibility with the overall storyline

-accuracy in representation of the opponent’s character

-creativity in problem solving



Kraznaya - Nylan - LightFang


Characters Welcome
Feb 27, 2004
Clow Country

Spoiler :
1. Ninja Dude’s Jiefin Huphata (and his boulder):
Jiefin 1
Jiefin 2
Jiefin 3
Jiefin 4
Jiefin 5
Jiefin 6
Jiefin 7

2. Vertinari118’s Cabera:

Cabera 1
Cabera 2
Cabera 3

3. Condor green’s Nolan Hasbeeue:

Nolan 1
Nolan 2
Nolan 3
Nolan 4
Nolan 5

4. flyingchicken’s The Splotch:

Splotch 1
Splotch 2
Splotch 3

5. Fuschia’s Anesthesia:

Anesthesia 1
Anesthesia 2

6. lord joakim’s Tok-Tok:

Tok-Tok 1
Tok-Tok 2
Tok-Tok 3
Tok-Tok 4
Tok-Tok 5

7. germanicus12’s Germanicus Octavian Caesar:

Germanicus 1
Germanicus 2
Germanicus 3

8. Azash’s Thuraen:

Thuraen 1

9. Lord_Iggy’s Sybrus Brayne:

Theme of Sybrus
Sybrus 1
Sybrus 2
Sybrus 3
Spoiler :

10. Charles Li's Steven The Dwarf:

Steven 1

11. merciary's Merc:

Merc 1

12. Icekommander:

Icekommander 1

13. orangelex44's Kyle:

Kyle 1

14. Diamondeye's Harlequin

Harlequin 1

Round One

Spoiler :
Round One Matchups

Jiefin vs Anesthesia

Merc vs Cabera

Icekommander vs Germanicus

Sybrus vs Nolan

Thuraen vs Kyle

The Splotch vs Harlequin

Steven vs Tok-Tok

Round One Results

Round Two

Spoiler :

Round Three (Semifinals)

Spoiler :

Spectator/Intermediate Entries

Signups will remain open until the start of Round 1 on Thursday, June 4 at 12:00 AM EST. If you intend to join but have not done so already, you must post something introducing your character and their capabilities by this time in order to enter the competition.

If you have already posted in the preview thread, please confirm your participation.


Characters Welcome
Feb 27, 2004
Clow Country
The Reserves

You may post


"I'm the hero!"
Jul 29, 2006


The first thing that most people see when they arrive on the lonely island is a girl. Of course, some people miss her due to being blind, having generally poor eyesight, or arriving on the island via other means, but those who alight from the boats onto the dock find a lone girl, standing underneath a sign. The sign is wooden and it's just possible to make out the last vestiges of ink from the faded sign, worn out over the ages.

The captain brings his ship to a mostly full and complete stop, the boat still rocking gently with the tide. He gets out, ties the ship to the dock expertly and motions for you to get out. You do so, taking your first tentative steps on land. It's hard to believe how fast you lost your land legs, so you wobble a bit, but after a few seconds of looking rather silly you've composed yourself again. You feel a presence drilling into your brain, and you look. There's the sign, and a girl standing underneath. She doesn't look like one of the workers - you doubt that her pleated miniskirt would be sanctioned by the dress code and she looks kind of too young to be involved in such shady business - but you figure that anybody here has to be here on purpose. It's pretty hard to wander accidentally onto this amusement park.

You walk up to her and she looks you straight in the eyes, without batting an eyelash. You notice that there is a small stack of papers extruding from her messenger bag on the ground and that she's retrieved one to hand it to you. Wordlessly, you take it. You say thanks, nodding your head a bit, but your action doesn't even register on her face. She just leans against a pole, crossing her legs, and stares at the dock. Your ship has left by now. You get the feeling that she's waiting for another one to come. Shrugging, you gather your belongings and look at the paper. It's a map of the island, with a big X where you're supposed to show up. You begin walking, and when you round the bend you throw a glance back at the girl. She's still out there, like a sentry, guarding the island...


Aug 27, 2008
The Polar North
Ooooh oooh sign me up!

Icekommander (OOC: Time to put that name to use!)

Standing 6'5 the strange man before seems to glow with a shimmering blueness. As he walks past you can start to shiver and suddenly feel cold, despite the sun. Appearing to have walked all the way to the Carnivale. Then so fast you would be sure you saw it (except that it's still there) a blueish white sword is in his hand. With a start you realize it's ice. From the ground suddenly arise two similarly icey figures only two feet tall. With a strange menace one of them seems to spit three icy darts onto the ground. With a sudder you realize you have stopped breathing, and the breath flows once more as the Icekommander walks past.

_ _ _

The Icekommander as he was known, is almost a legend in today's society. Supposedly seen several times during the last war, he killed almost indestcriminatly against those who he deemed invaded his territory. He has the ability to draw water to him and form it as his will, able to form shields and weapons from seemingly thin air. Each tale is different but the universal fact is that all the survivers recount a strange dryness in the air after each battle, as if all the moisture had taken some other form. Also giving him is name, he has two almost familiars. Both constructed completely of ice, they are told to be able to spit icicles. A few man tell of actually destorying these creaturs, only to see replacements pop up. However there seems to be only two at any one time. His reason for being at the Carnivale are unknown, but he looks to be a powerful opponent.


Rambling and inconsistent
Mar 3, 2007
A Silver Mt. Zion
The ox cart had stopped at a clearing; a small lake lied a few steps from the wagon, while the trees were as tall as always. The duo was taking a break from the trip towards Carnivale; Hickles was standing next to the ox, preparing for it to be tied. While he messed with the ropes, Tok-Tok hopped down from the cart and stretched out. Letting his knuckles emit a number of soft cracks, he then put them down his pockets and began whistling a tune. Hickles turned his head at Tok-Tok, who was slowly walking towards the lake; tightening the rope, he watched as Tok-Tok sat down next to the water and began drinking with cupped hands. Hickles wondered about this young macabre body, where his long arms may have come from. He was indeed some unique physique; while the limbs were clumsily plunged together, as a whole Tok-Tok was strong and fit. He did, at least, seem healthy and bright. Strawman Hickles had never felt safer next to a stranger, trusting that Tok-Tok would be prepared if the cart was attacked by highwaymen.

Tok-Tok felt the cold, fresh water being poured down his throat; the sensation of a moist mouth had been so strange for him a while ago. But he knew that a dry mouth always was the result of a long journey; soon they would make it to Taran; from the city harbor, they would take the boat to Carnivale Island. The distance was now mere miles before they were riding the waves. Tok-Tok refreshed himself by smearing his face in freshwater, rose, and turned around to find the old man looking at him. He froze, a bit surprised from the look on the Strawman's face, before they both looked elsewhere.

"Uhm," the old man said, "Have ye drunk 'em up?"
"The water?" Tok-Tok answered. He smiled for a bit, then looked at Hickles again.
"Yes, I liked drinking it," he said, "Have some yourself. I'll lie down for a bit."
Strawman Hickles walked past Tok-Tok while he found a good spot to relax. The old man crouched and began drinking as Tok-Tok took a straw from the soft grass beside him and put it into his mouth. It tasted like spring as he looked into the cloudy sky. Soon, he would be awaiting the first combatant against him in the arena; he imagined himself proudly defending himself against a vile taurus beast; like the golden meadows of his home, where those damned tauruses always broke into his home and stole his corn, and his fish. He had never understood them, why they always cleaved the door with their axes and mauled it with their fists, and why they never learned. The knocks always scared him during the dark night, with their voices roaring outside. The tauruses should just have chosen another farm; one which was further away from the lake... And the river. His room was cold and humid, with only the stone walls and bed to watch and know. The gridded window only let moonlight and skies in; but he loved those clouds. They weren't out tonight; and tonight it didn't matter. He didn't even care to share a moment with the beautiful stars. Instead, he was listening; sweatily he heard the muffled noises outside the barred door. Steps moved, knocks were light first, then forceful. Some high-pitched voice was wet and watery; now he heard two strong fists drum on the door in rage.

"We're good ter go, Tok-terk," Strawman Hickles said, "Jumpin' aboard, 're we?"
Tok-Tok woke up, covered in sweat, staring into the old man's eyes. He was fearing the day now; his recently wet mouth was now dry.
"What's wrong, lad?" the old man said, "Yer be haven' nightmares?"
"No," Tok-Tok said, taking the straw hat from the grass beside him; he rose, "Let us go."
Tok-Tok rapidly walked towards the ox cart, Ol' Man Hickles staring after him.


Discord Reigns
Jul 22, 2007
Workwork Workshop
Steven was born a Dwarf, with poor eyesight, and hated it. He looked into the mirror and imagined, conservatively, himself three times higher. In Gym he was more often mistaken for the ball, than ever got it, in art he can barely pickup the thick brush for mural painting, and in math, he can hardly open his thick textbook that the teacher keeps on his desk, let alone every hoping to carry it.

He felt bad for himself, and often, during his sleep, plotted his revenge.

One day, Jonathan threw him when he accidentally dropped his books during his checkers game, and Steven fell into a waste-paper basket. Only by finding a cellphone did he get free. During his sleep he dreampt of Jonathan being tore into pieces, then fit back together, then growing bugs from his skin.

When he woke up, he heard that Jonathan has been brutally tourtured with flesh-eating bugs, quartered, and then killed. Steven, for once, didn't feel bad, but felt a strange warmth of being in power. He often is depressed, but when he was in one of his depressed day-dreams... his imaginings become real.

He never grew taller, however, and heard of a contest... a contest for a wish... a wish to become who he wants to be: Normal, not small, and without powers... That is his only wish in his whole life.


No idea what I'm doing
Mar 8, 2006
Oh, I'll have to join this. I enjoyed playing Stadium of Superpowers, which has already been mentioned and guess what for those who played the Merc is back *evil laughter*

*System Rebooting*
*Transferring Intelligence*
*System Operational*
*Starting Program*

"Ugh, what happened to me. I remember the firing squad, then I have a strange memory of a cemetery, and for so reason an intense hatred of elephants. Hmmmm..... I'll figure those out in time, first where am I? Computer location." A voice in his head chimes in. " GPS coordinates scrambled, only the text "Location: Carnivale" is displayed" "Well that was helpful. Lets see what happened to me."

He moves over to this odd stand covered in a red and white striped fabric. "Well the names certainly fits, lets get a look at myself." He found a mirror and when he looked into he saw a rather messy looking robot staring back at him that seemed to be made of scraps. Oddly enough he didn't seem shocked at all.

"Well it looks like my self preservation program executed properly, that explains the memory fragmentation, more should come to me once the program sorts itself out. Now what's functional at the moment, Systems Check" "Basic weapons operational, Basic Sensors on line, All Primary Systems online. Advance Systems will be operational after the Central Program becomes completely integrated into the new frame." "So I have a while, lets see what weapon I have, Weapons Online." His hand shifted into an energy cannon of sorts. "So the plasma rifle is operation, we see what more this body has later. First lets find out why I'm here."

(Note to those that don't know this is a form of my character in SoS, which did very well until I was voted to be executed.)


Characters Welcome
Feb 27, 2004
Clow Country
Welcome! Glad to have you all aboard :)
Nov 23, 2008
Screw the beauty sleep!


Aug 5, 2008
Weyauwega, Wisconsin

From Latin, via French. The normal English polyglot. Polyglot is a fun word, too. Damn, if he wasn't an effing geek. Still, he was an effing geek with an effing gun, several guns. Gun has it's own etymology, slightly less refined, but no less interesting. Norse.

He didn't bother naming his arsenal, though. They were tools, not people. He did much better relating to tools than people. You usually knew what a tool would do; you always knew what a person would do. The wrong thing. Fail. Support the errant cause. Do whatever possible to mess things up.

He knew that was unfair, but screw it. In the words of one of his long-ago friends: people suck. Including himself, which largely explained why he was driving a crappy truck loaded with entirely too many high explosives towards a carnival, of all things. Or at least, he thought it would explain it.

He parked well off from the entrance. The grassy damned knoll. A good enough place to sit and watch his fellow... competitors?... enter. A confusing bunch, and one that in any other situation would seem to imply an acid trip. Any group where a Roman legionaire becomes a logical inclusion... well, he certainly fit right in.

Leave the rifle. Bring the shottie - always bring the shottie. Brace of pistols, although "brace" is, perhaps, no longer the correct term. Backpack with ammo, and a couple full sticks'o'dyno.

And walk towards the Ferris wheel. Why not?


The physical description:

His name is Kyle. Lanky, not especially well-muscled. Wearing prescription sunglasses, worn jeans, and an AC/DC T-shirt.
Nov 23, 2008
Nolan watched as the concession of fans walked towards the viewing tower. A sure sign as any that the games are about to begin.

Getting up stiffly and cracking his neck and back Nolan picked up his bag of chemicals and made his way to the Ferris wheel where he knew that everyone would end up in the end. As he walks to the Ferris wheel he notices.

The Murderer, The General, The Giant, The Empath, The Hunter, The Assassin, and The Criminal are already there.

"All of them are insane" Nolan thinks to himself "But then again I’m no walk in the park either and you would have to be insane to join in these games of death".

As he greets his opponents Nolan smiles to himself. "Well... Time to make some martyrs".

Is this better with spacing?


First Citizen of Rome
Jan 18, 2007
Ancient Rome
A horse snorted, the young lad standing nearby shuddered, "Damn cold!" More horses snorted, fires blazed in the distance, trees blocking the view beyond several hundred yards, dogs barked, a man shouted. Germanicus was happy, he commands the Northern Legions and they have waged a successful war against the Briton defenders, this battle will determine Rome's fate on this blasted isle. He stares out past the woods, seeking the enemy he knows is there but is invisible, scouts pour in placing the number at around 120,000 to 150,000 warriors from all over the island. Germanicus' battle weary veterans number around 50,000, all that is left from 10 legions of 70,000 from Gaul. Inexperienced soldiers from Spain, Greece, Syria, Gaul, the whole lot of them now Rome's elite, personally trained and whipped into shape by Germanicus' well trained centurions and Legates. For 5 years these inexperienced lads went from conscripts who wet their pants at a sight of a Briton woman rushing down on them to a battle hardened veteran who would fight Pluto* himself, if commanded to do so.

Now at this point, the legionnaires face their most difficult test yet, an enemy who more than doubles their numbers, fearsome Briton warriors from all over waits just over past the treeline, painted blue and naked. No doubt a fearsome sight to a green soldier, but to his veterans, just another fanatic to bring down with cold hard Roman steel. Octavian's horse, Mars, shuddered under him and nearly burst forward, he patted his horse, "Calm, Mars, calm, you will get your chance soon enough." Octavian looked up and watched his lead scout approach, he was waving his hand and his horse was galloping at high speed through the ranks, he was liable to kill someone with that speeding horse. The scout finally arrived to within earshot and shouted, "They are attacking!" Just as the words left his mouth, a loud cry shattered the pre-battle atmosphere, and all eyes darted to the front as a blue wave approached, Octavian Germanicus raised his arm and shouted, "Archers! Release!" as he brought his arm down. Flaming arrows filled the sky, seconds later they struck their targets, rows of men fell burning, but the rest poured past unfazed that their comrades fell. The front ranks tightened and the entire Roman line solidified, shields interlocked one another and every man behind them braced for impact.

A lull came, arrows flew in the skies at slow speed, the sounds of the dogs barking was slowed, Germanicus looked around it appeared as if time slowed just for him, as it always seems to have done in previous battles, Mars snorted and then time returned with a thunderous crash, the lines met. Screams and clashing metals could be heard, the swish of arrows as they left their bows was loud, Germanicus again raised his arm and dropped it, a boing could be heard followed by another, a few seconds later something smashed near trees and dozens of blue fanatics fell to the ground burning, the catapults launched gaskets of oil with a burning cloth, a new terror weapon brought forth by Rome in recent times. Germanicus now focused his vision on the front ranks, his centurions were doing well, cool under pressure they moved the front row to the rear to allow them to rest their arms while the 2nd row fights. Every 15 minutes they do this, even his veterans, troops that fought under him for the last 5 years, show the same vigor and excitement that he shows. There is no doubt Rome will win this war with such men under his command, but first he has to win this battle.

The battle has been going on for only 2 hours and the line has not moved much in that time, his veterans were holding their ground well but the Britons numbers were beginning to wear them down. Germanicus has already ordered his reserves to reinforce his weakened flanks and prevent the flanking Britons to rout them there, fortunately for Germanicus, the Britons neglected to bring their horses with them and this gave him free reign with his cavalry. Despite this advantage, he could not use them himself, the dense woods prevent an effective cavalry charge, undeterred Germanicus donned his helmet and pulled out his sword and raced to his line, his bodyguards scrambling to catch up. Germanicus wanted to end this here and now, and if he had to fight with his men to see that end come, he would. Mars neighed happily and charged into the fray, Germanicus jumped off and hacked down a Briton before two others jumped on him, thinking quick he grabbed his spare sword from his bodyguard just before being tackled. Seconds later he emerged atop two dead Britons, much to the relief of his guards and nearby veterans. Abandoning one of his swords he grabbed a shield from a fallen legionnaire and began fighting his way to his troops. His bodyguards falling one by one, victims to Briton attacks, despite his fighting skills the Britons were still keeping Germanicus from reuniting with his troops. Seeing this a Centurion cried, "Charge! Save the General!" With this, a cry rose, "Save the General! Save the General!" The entire line surged forward, reinforced by fresh men the legions pushed with all their might and finally the Britons cracked. Three hours into the fight and the Roman Legions emerge victorious, but after chasing down the Britons they return to find out that no-one knows where their valiant General is.

They searched the woods, they sent cavalry patrols to raid and scout out Briton camps, scouts search far and wide, not even Briton chiefs who surrendered the next day know where he is and claim his soldiers never caught him. His one remaining bodyguard claimed he was with him when he disappeared, claiming to see a bright light emitting close to the General then a second later the light was gone and so was the General. It was at this point that General Germanicus Octavian Caesar was taken from AD 21 and brought to Carnivale.

*Pluto=The Roman God of Hades or Hell.


Jun 7, 2005
He Was Given a Choice

Sheets of night-time rain cascaded down over a trenchcoated figure, leaning against the wall of the alley and breathing heavily. The sound of wet footsteps, slapping against the slick concrete, closed in behind him. Looking around with jerking motions, he saw no escape- the area was a dead end. Leaping upwards, a metallic claw emerged from his left sleeve, digging into the concrete wall. A second digitigrade mechanical limb emerged where his left leg should have been, and he began crawling, in a scrambling, asymmetric fashion, up the side of the building.

However, he was not fast enough. The black-clad group in his pursuit arrived at the entrance of the alley, drawing their weapons on him. A flashlight illuminated the hanging figure, completely exposed.

“Give it up Brayne- get off that wall.”

“You’ll kill me before you convince me to come back!” Sybrus Brayne discretely slid a short, tubular metal device down his sleeve and into his human hand.

“Well, we’d hardly like to kill of someone such as valuable to the corporation as yourself, now would we?”

A gunshot rang out. Instantaneously, the metal rod whipped out, with a loud ring. One of the black-clad men fell down, a bullet lodged in his cranium. The man on the wall barked out a single laugh, a fully-extended, two-bladed staff now in clearly visible.

“Agent Crozier, you’re slipping- you never lowered yourself to trickery earlier.”

“Whatever methods are necessary to accomplish my superior’s goals, Subject Brayne. However I am willing to negotiate.”

“On what terms? And don’t try to pull anything like that again- I don’t want to kill anyone else tonight.”

“Regarding your contractual release. I am in a position to nullify any remaining inequities between yourself and the corporation.”

“I get full release, you guys stop chasing me... what’s the catch?”

“The ‘catch’ is the crux of this agreement. There is a tournament of combat that will be taking place under the auspices of another corporation. You will take part in this event, to serve as a test of your training and technology. The combat metrics gained from this event will be enough to recompense our expenses on you, and conclude our experiment. Regardless of your status after your fights, we will gain the necessary combat metrics, and conclude our experiment.”

“And if I don’t want a thing to do with this?”

“Your family can... balance out the remainder of your debt.”

“You sick bastard, I have no family- after what you did to them.”

“Are you so willing to make that gamble, Subject Brayne?”

Sybrus paused for some time.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“That is true. May I assume that this is acceptance?”


“Shake on it?”

“Not on your life, Crozier.”

“Very well then, I’ll accept your verbal agreement. Your transportation is here.”

The Agent placed a parcel on the ground, and backed away, along with his entourage. Several moments passed before Sybrus came down from the wall, and picked up the package. He looked at it briefly, then set out into the moonlit streets, in his limping, inhuman gait.

Elsewhere, Crozier began to speak into his cellphone.

“Status?” buzzed a voice from the device.

“The breakout was staged as planned, and Subject Brayne has accepted the offer.”

“Good. Now, do you have any questions regarding my reasons?”

“Of course not sir.”

“That’s a good agent. Out.”


Rambling and inconsistent
Mar 3, 2007
A Silver Mt. Zion
There is an "Attachments" button somewhere in the Advanced Post Aditor. It's one of those metal clips with a downward arrow beside it, I think.


So Happy I Could Die
Apr 20, 2007
Dancing in the Dark
The Harlequin found himself drifting away from the world. He could still feel the sword of the paladin piercing his skin, cutting through his red and yellow clothes like, well, clothes. He quickly got tired of the sucking feeling in the stomach that drifting from the world of the living provides, and felt a sudden... force, pull him to the surface.

The girl with the sign watched in silent determination for the next boat, when suddenly a clown's head appeared, breaching the water's surface. The bells on his hat was jingling, and he was laughing a surprised laughter. He swam to the shore, his clothes and make-up all ruined by the water, but still smiling. He took the map from the girl, careful not to ruin it by letting water run onto it, and read. "Oooh. A carnival? Teehee!"

He cackled happily as he wandered towards the center of the Carnivale. Whoever was going to face him would be in for an unusually large dose of insanity and improbability...


La Sombra
Apr 30, 2005
The Net
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