#this was written as a five part set because of a rp event in the Global Server

[splynter]

A Letter for The First Lost

A drabble about Wings Unflown. Iterator oc

Flooding, flooding with data. A dam barely restraining the overflow of code, information, and music. There is no room for thought or diverted focus, and that is how Wings wants it.

Music blasts in her chamber like a siren and fills her thoughts with intense guitar and orchestral ensembles. Neuron flies dance around her body in time with the rhythm, swarming in and out of her chamber in waves of powerful information. They fly through screens that surround her in words and footage and pearls. Perhaps this could be considered overstimulating, especially to one with lesser capacity than she. Yet here she is. Working. Thriving

Distracting herself...

No matter how hard she tries to bury, archive, and file away the data, she still cannot get all reminders out of her head. Ending's schematics, their core purpose, chatlogs upon chatlogs upon *mems* of them that she stripped and saved and buried. Their music playlist, once at the top of the SOLA playlist files, is now buried beneath every other playlist she has made. Not one song is allowed to be played. They've been erradicated from every other location. She just cannot risk accidentally happening upon a song on her radio that they loved. It hurts.. It reminds her that they can’t listen anymore..

...

Of course!! She's not thinking about that!! She is thinking so so very much, but it's about everything except what she actually needs to think about!! She gets a lifetime of work finished in mere minutes, she floods her feed with layers upon layers of content, she has three entire brains overflowing with information, and none of them are focusing on the issue at hand. Imagine that! Because she isn't!!

Or... maybe she is. Maybe.. maybe there is a simulation deep in her processes. One that is constantly being adjusted for accuracy. One that will forever be outdated because she never knew how they acted outside of their can.

Still.. still it plays. Over and over again. It is a simulation of a hypothetical visit. Wings in her chamber, hovering close to the floor, and right across from her is Ending. It's not real. It never will be. But she couldn't help herself. Every word she makes them say cuts a wound in her chest.

“I missed you, Wings.” They say every time. But it's not real

“{I'm so sorry I couldn't reach you.}” She replies in turn. ”[My towers reach everyone but I couldn't reach you.] |I'm so, so sorry..|“

”It's okay, it's not your fault.“ Every single time they say that, it doesn't feel right

”Of course it is!!” She wails. “{You were GONE!!} [I could've tried harder to find you, to search for you, to connect somehow but ] |But I didn't!! I never did!!|”

She never understands why they don't reply. In every simulation of this same scenario, even after so many adjustments for accuracy, they would never reply. They would only stand and stare at her with quiet, sad eyes. Perhaps it's because she's right. Perhaps it's because it truly is her fault.

She can't... handle it anymore. Simulation 3,440,509 of this same conversation, and it finally breaks her. She crumples to her knees on the floor of her chamber. She buries her face in her hands and every mind wails. It bleeds through the simulation and stains her towers. Each structure groans and cries for the sibling she failed to find. Electricity boils into the sky and consumes the air and the ground. In mere seconds, it is all she can think about. And it hurts

...

Something shifts in the simulation, startling her into silence. This is something new. Her focus returns to it just as Ending's face appears in front of her. They're suddenly so close. She flinches back, expecting him to strike her. To yell at her. Something.

But instead, all they do is extend their hand to her. Red fingers.. She stares at them. It's only a simulation, but still the idea of contact keeps her frozen in place. She doesn't... like being touched. It makes her chest tighten and her hands shake and her minds scramble like frightened moths. It's not something she wishes would happen to her without warning and careful coaxing.

Ending wouldn't know, so neither does this Ending. Wouldn't that mean they would touch her outright? But they don't. They're only holding out their hand

...

Slowly, she breaches the gap and takes their hand. It's a delicate touch. It's barely even there. Yet it's enough comfort. It's a silent “I forgive you.”

And despite knowing this will never be real, it still... feels right.

When she opens her eyes in her chamber, there is no one there but her.

[bending-sickle]

fandom new year 6 8 and 16!

6. Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list? - ...the one i was going to write before the one i'm actually writing, because it was too Long and Complex (i have half a notebook of notes, coded into eight separate Big Arc Events. send help.) and i got scared and somehow thought writing a story set in scotland in the 1700s would be easier. (readers, it is not.)

but this yet-to-be-started fic is part four five of the supernatural you owe me series, and it's going to be *checks notes* sex and feels. and feels and sex. numbers of those involved ranging anywhere from one to three, as will their enthusiasm. basically it's just an excuse for me to see just how messy (figuratively and literally) i can get things. (although i had the though last night that the premise is ridiculous but y'know what? so was the first fic in the series and i can make it work.)

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it? - uh, there's nothing, really? i mean i'm quaking at the knees thinking about the above fic, but mainly because it's going to be...a lot of writing.

as for topics, nah, i've tackled quite a bunch i never thought i would.

16. Do you have that one fanfic that you wrote a ton for, ages ago, but never posted? Will this be the year, come hell or high water, that it WILL get finished and posted? - *shifty eyes* buddy, i have got so many. and i actually do intend on posting them. finishing is another matter, but fuck it, i really just want to post what i have. and i can.

they're all incredibly self-indulgent and OFC-centric because hashtag yolo so like, literally no one else would want to read them, but i like them and i like the prose and themes, so :P

in order of most recent, there's 1) a my country: the new age fic, which has some Fun With Translations and some Fun With Ghosts shenanigans and was written during The First Plague Year, 2) a planet of the apes and underworld crossover, which is basically My Werewolf Boyfriend during the apocalypse, 3) the hobbit rewrite of the Oh Noes I Fell Through To Another World variety, which i wrote for NaNoWriMo one year and finished a whole week early, so like...there's a lot written.

i do have a few others that are dead in the water but it's been twenty years so let's not drain the lake for them anytime soon.

(and i was going to clean up a mad max: fury road RP but uhhhh it's massive, and ditto for a modern au of the hobbit collaborative brainstorm that lasted like...half a year. just going to let those lie for a while.)

Fanfic Asks: Come At Me

[quasimyth]

I might be leaving RP.

In late May, I announced I was going to be leaving Tumblr in August. That took a huge weight off my shoulders, but part of me did wonder if I could go even further. This may feel as sudden to some of you as my announcement that I was going to be leaving, though I did discuss it with more people this time. Yet at the same time, I feel that not only is it also just a confirmation of something that has been true for the past 5 months, it may end up being for the best.

The past month, and in particular the past two weeks, have been a world of stress for me. I had thought I was doing fine this year, that I had stabilized due to taking a higher dose of my medication as prescribed by my doctor, because things did feel better than they had been before. But I didn’t even realize just how badly I was doing until recently, my mental instability came to a head. Once I came to that realization, I began to reevaluate a lot of things, particularly how I handled my stress and also my relationship to roleplay. I came away with the following conclusions.

The first is that RP doesn’t suit my desires and needs as a writer as much as I thought it did. Not only does it often take place in communities that I’ve already decided are no good for me, it has also become burdensome to me in a way that I only recently was able to articulate. I’m a person who doesn’t like writing slice of life--I love to write huge, epic narratives that rend the heart and stun the senses. But the thing is…I have so many characters and so many massive narratives that I want to take on, and for each character I want to devote that sort of time to, there are like 3 AUs that I also want to give the same treatment to. In the end, I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Everything has started to collapse in on me to the point that it has become unbearable. And dropping threads or trying to do smaller things won’t solve this problem, because my brain works primarily in big narratives and I won’t feel as satisfied restricting myself to the smaller stuff. It’s painful, because this is basically damned if I do, damned if I don’t. But I do feel as though if I keep most of my storytelling to worldbuilding, drabbles and character metas in an original setting, I at least won’t feel the pressure to constantly keep up with threads to move the story forward, or even to formally write out all the stories in my head. I can go more at my own pace.

The second is that on the whole, my main engagement in the RPC has been through events, particularly IC Pokémon Contests, and they’re probably more trouble than they’re worth. This isn’t something that’s just limited to the past five months--I feel like this has been a thing since the Galarian Stars Showcase which ended last October, and perhaps something that’s been true to some extent for my entire time RPing. In seven years of Tumblr roleplay, I can recall only finishing one thread that wasn’t part of an RP event, and as I’ve mentioned in the previous point, this leaves me greatly unsatisfied. I love screaming about my muses and plotting stuff, but the follow-through writing usually never happens, especially recently. It got to the point where recently, I’ve been feeling like the only reason I’m even in the RPC is to that I can do events with people…Yet RP events, whether I’m running them or participating, bring all of their own stresses that I don’t need in my life and that I may want to leave behind. 

In terms of participating, I noticed that I tend to get way too competitive and obsessed with winning. I don’t take it out on the judges or on fellow contestants, but I still have an issue where I can’t listen to my favorite songs the same way if I use them in an Appeal and don’t win. I have written before that events are fun before winning, but I really needed to take my own advice. What’s more, they also take up an ABSURD of my time. There were seven Appeals--seven, count ‘em, seven--that I wanted to do for existing or upcoming Contests between now and the end of August…and there were two more I wanted to do for an October Contest that I wanted to finish first drafts of before law school started. Even accounting for the fact that I’m no longer obligated to do at least four if not six of those Appeals anymore, I was still prepared to just throw my novel (which I haven’t even worked on for a whole month because I was working on Appeals) out the window and spend every waking moment of my free time entering Pokémon Contests. I was a woman possessed! Even writing this, part of me would still have been willing to write all nine of those Appeals. I know I shouldn’t blame myself too harshly for it; this is probably all a really bad reaction to the fact that as I said before, RP events are my only real connection to this RPC anymore. Still, it’s time to come to terms with the fact I have a problem. I have a serious problem.

That’s to say nothing of running events. While I’m known as the event person around here, that reputation comes with a burden. I don’t talk much about event drama but I have had good friendships of mine obliterated thanks to it, to the point that this would be a major factor if I chose never to host a RP event again. And while I wouldn’t say I’m traumatized by this, I do always have the nagging thought in the back of my head…When event drama rolls around, which of my friendships will be the next to go? There are many people here who I would trust not to leave if we had a spat about event policy, but I’ve been surprised before and I may be surprised again. On the whole, when my only RP is during events and if events are this bad for me, maybe it’s time to put down RP.

The third is that I feel as though the amount of effort I put into my Pokémon RP is more fulfilling when spent on original lore. Like. The amount of blood, sweat, tears and knowledge I have put into my portrayals is unreal, and as I think about it more, it’s rather impractical. I have put any and all of my knowledge and research into my lore--Indigenous issues, Judaism, Russian history, Slavic witchcraft, Japanese culture, anarchist ideology, ancient Chinese philosophy…I want to use all of this to create something bigger.

I had my first taste of it in the past few days. I’ve been working on an original lore document that was based on all the 50k+ words of lore I’ve written for the Pokémon fandom. And let me tell you…the feeling was ecstatic. The idea that I could just worldbuild and meta endlessly, on an original project still deeply tied to a fandom that I will always hold dear, with no obligation to reply to threads, no obligation to be at least somewhat faithful to someone else’s work, and no fear of gaining or losing interactions with it--I felt cleansed. I felt liberated. I felt as though there had been invisible shackles on my arms and legs for the past five months, and now that I was writing original work, it was just gone. I felt light and free, finally able to release a whole mass of tensions that I didn’t even realize I had. I don’t know yet if this will be my forever future. But if it is, it’s one I will embrace with the greatest joy.

I’m still nervous to say definitively that I will be leaving RP. I’m nervous even to say that I want to take a hiatus, let alone leave the hobby for good. Because first of all, there’s the old saying “never say never.” And more importantly, I’m worried about what this could mean for some of my friendships--I have lost contact with dear friends of mine after we stopped RPing, and I know it could happen again. But part of me feels strongly as though one day, if/when I do decide to leave, it will be forever. My life won’t get less busy. I’m gaining, not losing, responsibilities as I get older. I have realized the importance of proactively freeing myself from negativity and limiting thought patterns and activities…Maybe it’s time for me to free myself from this as well.

Thank you all again for being with me on my journey. Wherever I go, I hope our journey together can continue.

天

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Cravendy meets Lin! I think both of them have a terrible time.

Cravendy Hound woke up two days prior, and has spent those days awkwardly exploring the company while simultaneously avoiding all of its members. Finally, she understands what has happened in her absence...a very basic understanding, at least. The details are far too many to untangle at the moment.

Cravendy Hound has left a note on Lin’s door, inviting her to meet at one of the Lavender Bed islands. She waits on the bench absolutely terrified. Outwardly, this unintentionally translates into a menacing aura. Fists clenched, eyes dark, looking pissed off as hell.

Aislinn North It was a day with no work to be done. For most people, that would be a cause to celebrate. Right now, at this point in time, for Aislinn, it's a nightmare. Nyscera's people and Bertram, all of them had conspired against her. Sweeping the paperwork from her desk, aiding her in the clinic, leaving her with no escape. Work was the distraction used to keep her thoughts from looking back. Like a colorful toy you waved in front of a child to keep their attention where you wanted it. However, there was one piece of parchment left for her on her now far-too-clean desk. A note. She turned her head to the sound of approaching footsteps, the blood promptly draining from her face as she read it over. What in the Seven Hells was this? She fought back a litany of curses. No. She wasn't doing this today. She couldn't do this today. However, underneath the note was another's handwriting. Bertram had written something. And whatever he had penned had her out here, in the rain, making her way to this damned meeting. She caught sight of the familiar silhouette as she approached and immediately felt her throat go dry. As she drew closer, she realized the look was all wrong. The anger, the glaring eyes. Nothing about this....person was Wyda. She came to stand wordlessly just under the gazebo's shelter. She simply couldn't find anything to say.

Cravendy Hound similarly feels her heart sink when Lin steps into view. There is no plan, no eloquent speech prepared. Hells, she doesn’t even have a rough idea of what she wants to talk about. But she feels like she has to say something - anything - for both of their sakes. And yet, words fail her. The silence stretches between two of them like a widening fissure, and it feels unsurmountable. Gods, what was she thinking?

Cravendy Hound gets up. Why did she do that? Now she’s standing! She moves to sit back down, but wouldn’t that be more awkward? Cravendy freezes in a half-squat for a second until finally deciding to throw caution to the wind. Hells. She’s got the nerves of a kid on stage for the first time, but at least things can only get better...right?

Cravendy Hound strides over to Lin, grabs her shoulder, sits her down on a bench, and then takes a seat across from her. Okay, pieces in place. Things should happen now. Aaaanytime now. “.....................................”

(Aislinn North) ((Awww! OKay, this has me laughing! xD)) (Cravendy Hound) xD!! )) (Cravendy Hound) cravs has 0 braincells 0 plans. the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in many ways ))

Aislinn North eyes flared widely as Cravendy grabbed hold of her shoulders, clearly taking umbrage at being maneuvered into place by a person she knows is a total stranger. Unfortunately, her still-healing injuries leave her unable to swiftly move out of the way in time and she finds herself plopped on the nearby bench instead. "Nymeia's bloody britches." she muttered, returning the Seawolf's glare with one of her own. "Starting to think I might have been better off wandering another circle around the House." In all honesty, it's the most emotion she's displayed since the events of that horrible day.

Cravendy Hound: “Aye, you an’ me both. Suppose we got that in common? Not wantin' to be ‘ere. Today being a weird an’ unpleasant day.” Cravendy tries to laugh and her voice cracks from high to low. Twelve have mercy, her expressions are not fully her own yet. Her face reddens and her scowl only deepens. “M-mud an’ shite! Been more than a year since I last spoke, I promise I ain’t like this normally...”

Aislinn North "I'll have to take your word on that." came Aislinn's rapid fire retort. She had clearly reached 'Anger' along her trip through the five stages of grief. But even she can hear the bite in her words and knows they're misdirected. She looked away, out over the water as a war waged within her chest. Logically, what happened wasn't Cravendy's fault. It also wasn't Cravendy's fault she woke up. She just did. Logically, Aislinn knew all of this. She just didn't like it. "....It'll get easier, I'm sure." she finally, grudgingly allowed. That felt alright to say. That felt safe.

Cravendy Hound winces slightly, but the bite in Lin’s voice feels deserved. It isn’t as if she’s unaware of what has happened in the past year. In dreams you can become another on the flip of a dime...She’s in possession of memories that are both hers, and not hers. She shakes her head.

Cravendy Hound: “Don’t go easy on me. I know what happened. The mess I caused.” She  crosses her arms and...my god. She was never going to get used to how after waking up, she suddenly had the toned body of a fistfighter. God, everything is so weird. “...An’ I won’t go easy on ye. Ye look like shite, an’ ye look like ye can stand to get somethin’ off yer chest.

(Cravendy Hound) sleep is the most powerful workout xD )) (Aislinn North) ((God, I wish that were true! lol!))

Aislinn North shot the Seawolf a swift, dry look out of the corner of her eye. "You're looking for someone to unload on you, aren't you?" she shrewdly assessed. "Did you? Cause this mess? I mean, did you mean to summon..." her voice caught, stumbled over the word. "the primal?"

Cravendy Hound: “Personally, could do without. But when ye do somethin’ wrong, an’ ye don’t get what ye deserve then...well, I’d be wonderin’ whether or not I was still dreamin’.” Her jaw set, tight. To Lin’s second point, she found herself at a loss for words. Part of her wanted to absolve herself of guilt and claim it wasn’t her fault. A half-truth to make everyone feel better, and one that she knew would gnaw away at her heart like all of her other white lies. No...She literally died following this creed. She had to carry on differently, no matter how uncomfortable.

Cravendy Hound: “....It was unintentional. But what I did leadin’ up to it was my fault.”

Cravendy Hound: “Accident or not, I made a right mess of things. If hatin’ me will make ye feel better, then I’ll gladly bear it.” Hair fell in front of her face as she let out a short breath.

Aislinn North "How could I hate you? I don't *know* you." Aislinn replied. "And that's an awful lot of wasted energy, in my experience." She grew quiet as she mulled over Cravendy's words. For a long stretch the only sound was the rain drumming against the roof of the gazebo. She saw what she was trying to do. Get all the information and assemble it into something that made sense. That gave her answers. And what would answers do now? They wouldn't change the outcome. "You're right though...you did make a mess of things." she said with blunt honesty. "And we're all just going to have to learn to live with it. Not all of us are going to manage...*well*"

Cravendy Hound’s brows knitted together. She was partly relieved to hear that she wasn’t going to be immediately hated by Lin. Dream-friend or no, it was definitely something she could do without. But the other half of her was frustrated at the existence of yet another problem that she caused, that she couldn’t fix at once.

Cravendy Hound: “Maybe ye don’t know me, and maybe I don’t know ye, but whether ye like it or not, I’m ‘ere for you. Because...” Cravendy pauses. Because what? She feels selfish for saying anything at all. If her goal isn’t closure, then what is it? She doesn’t know, and it infuriates her. “...Just because.”

Cravendy Hound: “....................” It dawns on her that she hasn’t introduced herself. Shit, is it too late to bring it up now? She simmers in anxiety and, as usual, it comes across as looking like she’s about to fight something.

Aislinn North sat back sharply, caught up short. Clearly, she wasn't ready for that. She looked away. Her fingers tapped out a quick rhythm against her leg, her jaw squared. How many times did it take for her to learn this particular lesson? Cracking herself open again and again only to lose people. No. *This* time she would get it. *This* she'd learn. Upon glancing back at Cravendy, her dark musings fly from her. The woman looked like she wanted to punch something. Aislinn tensed. "Alright, there?" ...she asked uncertainly.

(Cravendy Hound) xD )) (Aislinn North) ((Lin's wondering if she's gonna have to dodge and roll xD))

Cravendy Hound narrows an eye as she reads Lin’s expression. Shit, looks like she’s closing up. But then again, what other outcome could she expect? Thrust herself in her life and expect immediate and full reconciliation? Of course not. Cravendy doesn’t know Lin either, and maybe never seeing each other would be the best path to take...but it feels wrong to see her like this. It just does.

Cravendy Hound: “It’s not alright! I...I wake up after tryin’ to end things and I guess things are better? But worse at the same time? I’m still where I was a year ago an...” She cuts off her outburst. Piss n’ wind, just another way to further alienate Lin. “‘SCUSE ME.”

Cravendy Hound gets up, dunks herself under the water and yells at the top of her lungs. When she comes back, she looks spent. “Should’ve said this at the beginnin’, but I’m Cravendy. And I’m...I’m just losing me mind! Haha. That’s a...a joke.”

(Cravendy Hound) i dont know whether to laugh or cry )) (Aislinn North) ((ohhhhh...I think this is one of those times where its just both!)) (Cravendy Hound) both? both. xD )) (Aislinn North) ((xD)) (Aislinn North) ((Also did she just go and pitch herself into the water, or just her head?)) (Cravendy Hound) LOL she stepped into the water, slams herself completely underwater, and then came back )) (Aislinn North) ((lol! Got it!)) (Cravendy Hound) lmao i dont know which would give off more of an insane person vibe. if she crawled on the wood and dunked just her head in the water versus what she actually did )) (Aislinn North) ((lol! Oy, that's true! Six of one, I suppose))

Aislinn North As the woman let loose on her, Aislinn realized the turn of phrase she's used since childhood may have been misconstrued. She sat in stunned silence after watching Cravendy pitch herself into the lake. She'd get up but at the moment, in her condition, that seemed like too much of a chore. "I didn't..." it was all for the best as Cravendy immediately returned and squelched back down on the bench. "It's just...something I say. Of course nothing about this is alright." she let go a breath. "Cravendy...I gathered that. From the note you left me." A part of her had to admire someone who could do exactly what they felt like doing. She, herself, had been holding in a scream for days. She looked forward to when she could pick up her pistol again and target shoot. She had always been better at letting her gun snarl and growl for her. "And like I said, it's not an easy thing. But it'll get easier."

Cravendy Hound sits in wet, miserable silence. Her hair, once a dense tangle resembling a pine tree, is now slicked down against her face and shoulders. And she’s godsdamned grateful for looking like a mess right now, as it hides the tears and redness in her eyes. She’s not some whelp to be pitied, she’s a tough pirate that shoots first and asks questions later! Used to be, anyway. Cravendy sniffs once. Must be the cold.

Cravendy Hound: “Hah, ah...No.” She takes a bundle of hair in her hand and wrings water out of it. It’s a little salty. “Yeah. No...No? No.”

Cravendy Hound: “........Aye.”

Aislinn North tipped her head as she listened to Cravendy argue. Though whether it was with Aislinn or herself, the highlander couldn't be sure. "Aye." she affirmed. "Because there's no other option." she spoke like someone who knew that was the way of it.

Aislinn North After a pause, she slowly pulled herself to her feet. "I'll be heading back to the House now. Not that anyone has left me much of anything to do...but still." she sighed. She hesitated a moment, studying Cravendy. Feeling torn in several directions all at once. "Come back up when you're ready. No sense sitting in wet clothes for very long."

Cravendy Hound sighs. Well, that went swimmingly. She shrugs her shoulders and lets Lin go, preferring to unwind in the privacy of this lonely island for now.

[thevoilinauttheory]

FFXIVWrite2020 Prompt #13 - Extra Credit

Character(s): Caromont Allard, Astrid Allard; a couple unnamed tutors and teachers. Setting: Sharlayan (Motherland); approximately 1475 of the Sixth Astral Era -- approximately 1480 of the Sixth Astral Era -- approximately 1494 of the Sixth Astral Era, just before the events of Prompt #22 What: Caromont is introduced to his new abilities, much to his dismay. Content Warnings: Explicit physical and emotional, familial, abuse; implications of trauma Author Notes: My spouse wanted more Caromont lore, so I used it as my extra credit prompt. Honestly, that’s all I gotta say. I had fun writing this one, because Caromont is my “enigma” character. Everything about him is hidden under the veil of the classic case of amnesia, but even if he does remember - no one ever knows, he doesn’t communicate if he’s remembered anything or not. So even in my private RP with my spouse, he’s still something of a mysterious character. --

Violet eyes cast a glance outside of the window of his classroom, it was a nice day. He was stuck here. Again. And again. And again. Everyday it was the same thing. When the click of a switch against the podium at the front assaulted his ears, he flipped the page of the book in front of him with no regard to the words written. Another snap, another page. There were whispers of other students beside him - he paid no mind. There were clouds to watch and he was far more interested in those. Crack, flip. Whap, flip. 

“Allard!”

The boy’s head whipped to the front suddenly, his attention drawn by the sudden shout of his name. When he realized it was just his teacher, his posture relaxed, eyes squinting into a pure sense of utter boredom. He exuded it as he slid his arm over his desk to rest his head on his fist. The eye contact showed that he was listening… at least more intently than before, yet he said no words. His teacher walked her way to his desk, snatching up his textbook.

“The answer to number four, please.”

A deliberate attempt to sabotage him, taking away the text he paid no attention to and asking a question on it. It would’ve made any student fluster, yet the boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. “Teleporting is breaking down your aether and confluencing it with the Lifestream, carrying you to your destination so long as you don’t break contact with your thoughts. There are dangers to teleporting, such as losing focus and losing self - where your aether cannot conjoin together. Other effects can be severe aether sickness, crystal sickness, and possibly ending up at a different location.” Before any words could be spoken, he continued. “Aether sickness is caused by an increased intake of aether, causing a variety of symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, migraines, dizziness, vertigo, and temporary blind and deafness. There is no known cure for aether sickness, and it’s recommended to just let it pass. If it does not, though, a transfer of aether can be used to reduce the amount of aether stored in another’s body.” A sharp inhale. “This can also lead to aether deprivation, where there is too low of aether in another’s body; causing malnourishment, lack of appetite, inability to move certain body parts, loss of certain bodily functions, and numbness - death, within a matter of bells or suns.”

His eyes turned back to the window. “Answers four, five, and six. I am paying attention, and I dislike that you are accusing me of not.”

His teacher let out a soft sigh, setting his book down, then returned to the front of the class - allowing the child to continue daydreaming in peace.

When his classmates filed out at the first sound of the bell, he gathered up his belongings slowly and meandered his way to the door. “Caromont.” “Mm?” “Stay here, your mother will be arriving shortly.” “What did I do wrong? I answered your questions, did I not?” She shook her head. “It’s for both praise and punishment. You’re above your class clearly, but it feels as if you’re not invested in this path.” “I am not, I would much rather be doing something else.” “Then why do you continue?” “My mother wants me to. It’s the best way to make money and take care of my family.”

There was another shake of her head, yet she gestured to the door. “Take a seat outside.”

When his mother appeared, near stomping down the hall; heels clicking- he hated that noise. She could afford nice heels, but not a proper bed for her children. Nice clothes, nice makeup. In his loathing, he neglected to realize she was right beside him and a hard yank on one of his ears made him cry out. “What did you do this time! Ungrateful child, I send you to school and you do nothing but get in trouble!” “I do not want to be here, regardless! Let go!” He tried to pry her hand off, but her nails caught the cartilage, causing a sob to break from him. “Stop!”

“Mrs. Allard, if you please.” His teacher caught her before a hand could crack over his face - a save he couldn’t have been more grateful for. She seemed to recognize the situation, then smiled. “There is naught for him to be punished. I wanted to give only praise and a proposition.” A change in her previous statement. “Is that right? Why didn’t you say so before?” His mother let go of his ear, following his teacher inside the classroom while he was left outside to tend to his injured and now bleeding ear.

“I wished to convey just how brilliant your son is, he is far ahead of his peers in his aetherology studies - and I believe he is ready to move on to higher skills. Might I suggest astrology? He seems keen on being outside, and studies regarding the stars would allow him that enrichment he needs. He could be Sharlayan’s greatest healer with just a bit more effort and motivation from outside sources, such as his family.” She stacked up some papers, sitting herself down at her desk. “I can provide the necessary documentation of his successes, and present it to the head of the board. He’ll be ready to move on by next moon. Until then, I would have him stay and take tutoring classes to help him further. No extra charge, I assure you.”

“I see… if you believe he’s got that much talent wasting away in him, I suppose moving him forward wouldn’t hurt. Tutoring - if he’s so brilliant, then why--” “Because he will be entering in the middle of the school year, Mrs. Allard, and he will need to catch up on everything his new peers have already learned. Just because he has mastered this class does not mean he is a born master of every other class. You expect too much of the boy, he needs to be nurtured, and he needs to grow; and I will be frank with you - you are stifling him. Do not get in his way, or you will be the cause of the rift between you and your family.”

--

“Take your reading now, Caromont - allow yourself to connect with the gates as we last practiced. Your first reading is always the most important, to see your progress.” His mentor sat on the other side of the desk from him, watching intently to Caromont’s now bright-eyed enthusiasm to his new path. He hadn’t thought of astrology - while Sharlayan was well known for their astrologians, he never considered something like that to speak to him.

The first card was flipped over. “The Spire.” He spoke softly, and he allowed the card to speak. It hurt at first. He rubbed at his temples and within a few seconds his head hit the table as if he had fallen asleep there. His mentor quickly stood to check on him, frightened that something might have gone wrong - but when his head snapped back upright with his eyes wide, he turned to his mentor in tears. “...I- I-... I am sorry… I did not mean…” “What is wrong, child? Dear heavens, I thought you had performed a spell wrong.” “N-No.. I just. My reading is for you… and this position is the past, with the Spire, and… I saw. I saw what happened, I…” “Saw? You saw the past with the flip of a card?” “I just wanted them to speak to me…” “Cards don’t speak, Caromont. The stars do. I think… we may need a different tutor for you. I do not know if there is anyone with your talent, but. I do know that we have a section of professors and students all learning about an innate ability we have called the “Echo”. I would like to make certain that if you do have the Echo, you have a proper tutor to teach you about it - despite the fact that it manifests differently in everyone.” He gestured to the cards again. “Sit upright this time, against the back of the chair instead of forward. Close your eyes after drawing the card.”

He followed. The next card was drawn. “The Spear.” Immediately, he closed his eyes; still the tears fell. He shook his head as his eyes opened again. “...Maybe I should not do readings on you… I see too much.”

--

“No, this isn’t the Echo.” “Are you sure? What other explanation could there be for such a talent?”

Caromont was the talk of the Studium. Professors and peers wanted to know more about his ability - this was the day that his enthusiasm turned to responsibility. He hadn’t realized it yet. 

“The stars speak right to him!” Those were the rumors. There had to be more, a person, or magic… something was doing this to him. He delved in libraries for years to tell him, what was he, what was he supposed to do? Everyday it was another person in need of help - everyday he had to make the choice whether someone should live or die - how heavy a burden on a man barely thirty winters old. Was this his fate and destiny? His cards were blank when he tried to read them for himself - like the stars only spoke through him, rather than to him.

He stood out in the dark, up at the sky did his eyes turn. He was never a wishful thinker, he was studious, uptight, he had to be the responsible one. This was the night he cried. He cried and he cried - how many more times would he have to sentence people to their deaths, how many more times would he have to tell people that there was nothing he could do. He would take the fates into his hands time and time again, always promising to never do so again. Everytime, the consequences of doing so would be worse than the original outcome - the fates ever escaping his grasp. He only wanted to help, why was he burdened with this responsibility?

[walkingshcdow-a]

Longtime follower, big time fan! I love your writing and I wanted to know what you would suggest or have any tips or recommend about how to start writing a book? I want to (and have a bit of an idea) but I don't know where to begin?? Thank you!!

I want to start this ask, first with thanks and then with a disclaimer. Firstly, thank you so much for following me and for reading/enjoying my stuff! I really appreciate it and it makes me feel very warm-and-fuzzy to know that someone on the other end of the internet reached out to me and thought highly enough of my writing to ask for advice. Secondly, I am a writing teacher. I teach high school creative writing and have degrees in English and Secondary English Education. I have written numerous short stories and one day hope to get a PhD in English or an MFA in creative writing. On the one hand, I am Supremely Qualified to answer your question. On the other, I’m... not. I am not a published author (yet) and most of my writing energy goes towards roleplay and fanfiction. The longest finished work I’ve created as an adult is my “Wooden Overcoats” fanfiction “The Greatest Undertaking”, which doesn’t “officially” crack novel length (50,000 words, give or take). When you say you seek advice on writing advice, I’m going to tell you something I’d never tell my students: you don’t have to take my advice. If something else works better for you (this part I do usually tell them), do that. I am not and no writer is the font of all writing knowledge. Anyone who says they are is trying to sell you something, usually, a book on how to write, written by an author you’ve never read or heard of. 

Okay, now that that’s out of the way... let’s talk about what helps me in hopes that some of it helps you!

Don’t be afraid to start. People will make you feel like your idea isn’t worth pursuing. Most of them are doing it on accident and would be horrified to know that their thoughtless comments are holding you back. For years, I did not write characters who had parents because when I was eleven, my mom read a fanfiction I wrote and the main character was critical of her parents and my mom asked me, “Is this how you feel?” If a circumstance hit too close to home, I didn’t write it even if my mom wasn’t going to read it. Thankfully, I’m past that. People won’t be the only thing that will hold you back. Time, fear of failure, impostor syndrome... all sorts of insidious things will give you excuses not to start. Do not let them win. 

Some form of pre-planning is extremely useful! It’s not necessary. Most of my short stories have never been outlined. I just sit at the keyboard and type until I have a short story and then I edit later. But for my longer stories, I find an outline keeps me organized and on track. Currently, I’m writing a story called “Catch and Release”. “Catch and Release” has two separate outlines (I kept the original, even though I scrapped at least half of it), both about five pages long. The outlines, for me, include character summaries (who is this character, what did they do in the last story- “The Greatest Undertaking” - that is relevant, what is their goal now, how do they perceive themselves/others, how do others perceive them, what other details are important), and chapter summaries with bullet-point lists of what plot points and emotional beats need to happen in each chapter. I did this in Google Docs because it means I can access it anywhere (and often do) and so I can use the strikethrough function to cross off plot points and emotional beats I’ve hit in writing. This keeps me on track when I take breaks from writing. I haven’t worked on the writing since a little over a week ago, since real life has picked up. I opened Chapter Nine the other day and was like, “Why did I start with Sid Marlowe?” I checked my outline and remembered exactly where I left off. It’s nice. I wasn’t as thorough with “The Greatest Undertaking” and there was a point where I took a month-long hiatus from working on it (I was teaching remotely from a different city because of the pandemic) and when I picked up “The Greatest Undertaking”, I thought to myself “What would have made writing easier for me?” Your outline doesn’t have to be as detailed as mine. It could be more detailed. Just create a guidebook for yourself in case you get stuck or have to take a break from your work. 

Speaking of preplanning... Brainstorm! Keep a list of your ideas for future fics/stories/etc. Write little plot summaries to refer to later. I like to you the “[Somebody] wanted [goal], but [obstacle], so [climax], then [ending].” model when I’m too busy to write a detailed summary. I’d also recommend looking at and utilizing traditional outlines, like Freytag’s pyramid or the “four-act structure” a professor suggested to me at a Shakespeare conference if you want to push back against traditional storytelling that allows for a longer focus on the resolution/consequences as the characters establish a new normal. Something. Anything to make you know what ideas you have and what shape they might take. Pictures can be helpful!

Even though preplanning is useful, don’t get married to your outline. If you love your outline too much, you might spend all your time working on it instead of the story or you might not give yourself the flexibility you need and deserve to write the story of your dreams. I realized when I was writing “Catch and Release” that I needed the latitude to add in a scene between Chapman and Calliope and to have Chapman and Antigone interact at least once in the series, since they didn’t in “The Greatest Undertaking”. I was able to edit the outline easily enough to add a whole chapter (Chapter Nine, which I’m working on). I might have to add up to three more chapters to hit all of my bullet points and I know my ending has changed from the first outline. That’s okay! As long as I keep writing and preserve the emotional beats, I’ll be content. Some people would hate this edit-as-you-go approach and insist upon sticking to the outline. If that works for you, great. But I’m not going to commit myself to subplots that don’t serve the narrative. 

Decide if you’re a plot-driven or character-driven writer (or, rather, if your piece is plot-driven or character-driven). I’ve put so much emphasis on outlining plot in this thing because I’m character-driven. I am constantly thinking about “but why are they like that?” and “What motivates character X? What is their payoff if they act?” I think in terms of character relationships. This is great! Super helpful! But when it comes to getting my characters do things... I need to outline a plot otherwise they will sit around and talk about their feelings for 30,000 words and nothing will happen. I compensate by making sure my characters have goals outside their intimate relationships, other interests/hobbies/struggles, and lots of things to do. In “Catch and Release”, I had to think of an event that would allow my characters to act out their feelings, rather than think about them privately. If you’re more plot-driven, you will need to make character outlines to keep track of why your characters are doing things that they do and to keep them somewhat consistent in how they behave. People in real life are sometimes inconsistent. In fiction, readers are more likely to notice “out of character” behavior... especially if it isn’t tied to an important motivator. You might need to make character arcs instead of a plot event list. And that’s okay! Do what you need to do to make sure that whether you’re plot- or character-driven, the two tie nicely together. 

Practice writing and read a lot. There are two ways to become a better writer. The first is my favorite: write a lot. In between short story projects and novella/novel-length fics, I write my RP characters here. I experiment with style and voice and character development here all the time. This is my “take a break from writing” writing corner, lol. It’s made me a lot better and the partners with whom I write make me better. It keeps me in continual practice with both story craft and mechanics. The second way to improve as a writer is to read a lot. I’m going to say something my colleagues would probably hate: watching TV and listening to podcasts counts as reading, too. Study how the author or writers craft the book/episode/movie you’re consuming. Look at the dialogue and plot structure. Imitate the parts you like, mix and match pieces of media, use one author’s style to tackle another’s subject material. Decide what you think is good writing and what you think isn’t. I’m having my students do an activity from the book called “No Plot? No Problem!” by Chris Baty, the founder of National Novel Writing Month. It asks writers to list all their favorite tropes, conventions, stylistic choices, etc. and all their least favorites and then to only include things they listed as favorites and to avoid writing about things they hate. Writing is a self-betterment activity, but you don’t get better by punishing yourself. You want to enjoy writing, right? Don’t “write what you know”. Write what you know, what you love, and what you want to know more about! Imitating writers you admire is a good thing for both original and fanfiction. Practice, practice, practice!

Set goals for yourself. I have an app called Habitica to help with my to-do lists. I have three things that are writing-related on it right now: “Respond to writing prompt” (habit), “Work on creative project” (daily), and “Finish Catch and Release” (singular event). On Habitica, you rank the level of ease for each thing. “Respond to writing prompt” is “easy”. It can be a prompt here, working on a chapter of “Catch and Release”, or doing a separate writing prompt. “Work on creative project” is “medium” and can be any of the above... plus outlining or another artistic expression, because sometimes I forget to branch out. I can’t check “Catch and Release” off my list until I finish the actual story and that’s ranked as “difficult”. I get a different amount of points for doing the things I need to do and I lose points for not doing them. I also (unofficially) have a goal that all of my chapters must be between 2000 and 5000 words. There’s no formal system for that one. Either way, these keep me motivated to keep writing. Find a system of accountability for yourself. Some people do well if they reward themselves (I don’t. There’s nothing I want enough to work for except things that have intrinsic rewards, like... I get to keep my job if I do my job. Telling me that is more motivating than telling me I’ll get ice cream for finishing my lesson plans. I can get ice cream even if I don’t. I’m an adult with a modest amount of disposable income or I’ll decide I don’t want ice cream. The only times I’ve done this self-denial tactic and seen results I also dehydrated and deprived myself of sleep. I do not recommend that in the slightest). Others thrive on working competitively against friends, the clock, or themselves. Still others accomplish their goals only by having external people hold them accountable. I will admit: I sometimes need a shove from a friend which is why...

Enlist friends to get opinions from. I have the world’s best group chat on Discord. All three of them are writing partners here and familiar with my fandom (”Wooden Overcoats” in this instance; though at least two of them are familiar with “Phantom of the Opera”/Susan Kay’s “Phantom” and I’ve forced the whole group to know about my original characters). Each of them has a different perspective so I can ask their thoughts and brainstorm with them, throw ideas at them, etc. or just ask them to make sure I’m writing once a week or so. I have other friends who know nothing about my fandom or my stories but who are willing to listen objectively to look for plot holes. And then I have friends who are content to know I’m writing and never ask for more info. Writing is such a solitary activity that it’s important to find support and community where you can! 

Believe in yourself. You can have all the support in the world, but you have to remind yourself that your story is worth telling and that no one can tell it quite like you can. Get writing!

I wish you the absolute best of luck on your writing endeavors! If you ever want to talk or follow up, I’d love to hear how it’s going! Take care!

[the-colony-roleplay]

↬ Col22 Annual Appreciation Awards: The Reception ↫

The decorations in the Colony’s Catch 22 are purposely less lush than the exuberance that was found in the auditorium for the ceremonies. Oh, there’s still a ton of holiday themed paraphernalia: wreaths and garlands, colourful twinkly lights and, yup, there’s that mistletoe again...  but there are no ostentatious draperies, and only one Christmas tree in the corner. Much more digestible.

The evening is designed to be a real celebration. Alright, let’s say it: a party. But after a long year of hard work and difficult change, this is something that even Alex sees as good for morale. The awards are the first part of it—acknowledgement for their commitment, for their rigorous training and for the progress they’ve made. And this... well, this is the second part. The part where people might laugh and dance and forget about the reality of things, if even for a little while. 

Because the truth is, this is the new reality. This isn’t the apocalypse anymore—it’s post-apocalypse. As much fear and horror and strain and loss still fill their world on a day to day basis, and as much as the fight is a long ways from over—this, here and now, is the new world, and they have to live in it. Because as soon as they forget the simpler, human joys of life, the easier it will be to lose motivation entirely. “Those who fight together, thrive together”: the Colony 22 Games motto since the day of its rise. But there has to be something worth fighting for. Something to inspire a reason to survive. 

Alex, despite his reclusive nature, despite his tendency to put work first and friendship second, knows that the only thing keeping these citizens alive now, with all the fear and oppression and prejudice clouding over their heads, is love. Pure and simple. God knows he’ll never say it out loud, but he knows it to be true, nonetheless. The friendships and loyalties built within these walls over the past five years have become a reason for people to push forward. A foundation on which to nurture their passion, ambition and drive. 

And so, despite the fact that Alex is still intending to make himself scarce within the hour, once the general public are a couple drinks and some pour soul’s taking the first stab at the Karaoke machine—he is pleased by what he finds when he first walks in. Pleased to see colony company slowly filing in—some of them having dressed down for the reception, others still sporting their refurbished prom dresses and ties. 

Even some of the NWRF shuffle in awkwardly looking in desperate need of a drink. Which, as far as Alex is concerned, is perfectly fair. Perhaps even they are doomed to have a good time tonight, as the night presses on and their glasses are refilled. And perhaps, Alex will even stay a little longer than planned. Perhaps. 

CHECK OUT FULL EVENT DETAILS AND SUMMARY UNDER THE READ MORE!

Good Evening and Happy New Year, everyone! Welcome to the Second Portion of the Colony’s 6th, non-games Event!

THIS POST OFFICIALLY TRIGGERS PART TWO OF THE AWARDS EVENT: THE RECEPTION AT CATCH22!

                       ↬ EVENT DETAILS & SUMMARY ↫

General Geography

Much like so many other physical spaces in the Colony, we’ve always left it specific enough to work with, but vague enough to leave you free to work your imaginations. However, since so many of us will be threading here all at once, we figured it might be a good idea to give you a sense of the space. 

So, the front of the Catch has a small covered patio attached—no tables or anything, just a wooden awning with pillars, two steps up from the ground—some people will smoke out here. 

When you walk in through the front double doors, the bar is forward and to the left side of the room. Directly centre of the room is most of the tables and chairs for the seating area. These are old wooden chairs and tables, kind of rustic. The WCs are past the bar, on the left, down a little alcove. In the back of the room, beyond the tables, there is a small stage that used to be used for bands/performances etc. It is rarely used as such anymore, and is currently more or less grouped in with the dance floor, which is just in front of the stage. Tonight, however, the stage may have a use or two... more on that later :) 

Also for the purposes of the evening, there will be a couple of long tables set up on the right side of the room (opposite side of the seating area from the bar) where all the food will be dropped off. This will be a help-yourself sort of set up, with casual finger-food people can pick at over the course of the evening. More on this below! 

Food and Drink

So, like with the Brink Reopening, there is finger food available, all of which is being prepared up in the kitchens from the main building. There are volunteers cooking and bringing food down in through the back of the Catch, but it is not catered in the same way as the “classy” Brink Reopening was. The food is casual, pub-style appies, and is not brought around on platters, but rather set up on tables with napkins and small plates (plastic ones! because there’s no Party Central stores in the apocalypse and they can’t afford paper plates, ya’ll, so put ‘em in the dirty dish bin at the end of the table, okay? Just as the heartfelt handwritten sign on the wall so politely and firmly requests!)  

Food assortment includes the following: 

Chicken and Veggie Sliders

Chicken Wings (Hot, BBQ and Salt&Pepper) 

House Cut French Fries 

Fish Tacos

Veggies & Dip

Chips and Salsa

Drinks will be served at the bar, (Xavier Crane is one of the usual bartenders for the evening, along with some other regular Catch staff. Mitch Douglas will also be seen back there some of the time, because he’s very much a hands-on kind of volunteer). All the usual drinks one might find on a regular night will be available, so not the same restrictions as at the Brink Opening, but drink tickets have again been handed out to citizens over the age of 18. These were passed out in little envelopes before leaving the ceremony (so anyone who decided to skip the ceremonies wouldn’t have gotten theirs!!) and the number of tickets is determined by security class again, which are as follows: 

Elites & Class 1: Three free tickets

Class 2: Two free tickets

Class 3: One free ticket

If citizens would like to purchase more drinks with their credits, they can obviously do so as per usual, but standard drink limits still apply, and free drinks count towards those limits. 

Music, Dancing & Entertainment

Unlike the Bonfire, no one is particularly DJing this event, but Tate Rothchild has volunteered to run the music, and she’ll be taking requests. The dance floor will be open most of the evening, but there will be Karaoke between 9pm and 10pm which Crane will be running (quite enthusiastically, we might add) at which point the bar will be run by other staff. 

After Karaoke, dancing and music will continue until close, at 0130. Last call for drinks will be at 1am. 

Maisie Pace will also be wandering around taking official photos for the evening, so citizens should keep an eye out for her if they want some taken with their friends in front of the Christmas tree! And remember: there’s mistletoe surreptitiously hung about the bar—will anyone be caught under it, I wonder? Perhaps Miss Pace will be quick enough to snap a shot of that too... she is an excellent fly on the wall, after all. 

Photos taken at the event will be made available on Echo in the following weeks. 

                   ↬ EVENT ROLEPLAYING GUIDELINES↫

The same guidelines apply as with all our events, and with ceremonies. Here is a summary/reminder!

As of now, you may NOT post any NEW threads that are not affiliated with the RECEPTION portion of the event. The new timeline of the RP is currently AFTER the ceremonies. So you have free reign of anything between the ceremonies ending and people milling about, or going back to their dorms to change, or heading down to the Catch, or anything throughout the night of the party at the Catch, until it closes. However, If your character does not attend the reception, they could be elsewhere in the colony at this time. Basically, you are free to RP your character anytime between 8pm (when the awards ended) and 2am, which would be just after the Catch closes. 

You MAY continue old threads you have going, both pre event, or from the ceremony. All we ask is that you start tagging non-event threads with #preevent so we know they are earlier in the timeline.  On going, ceremony threads do not need to be tagged this way, as they are still part of the event overall. 

All new event threads being posted must be TITLED and tagged as such, indicating that they are Event threads.  (In this case, key words like “Awards” or “Event” or “Reception” or even “After Party” is encouraged. How you go about this is up to you though! 

You MAY post photos of your character’s clothing/outfits, etc, if you wish. You are by no means obligated to do so. 

Please TAG your event starters with the regular starter tag (#col22starter), AS WELL AS #col22awards. 

The event will continue until the mods post an official closing notice. It will likely last about week, maybe more, depending on member activity. We want to give enough time for people to get a good start on threads and plotting, before wrapping it up. Obviously people will be able to continue on going threads after the event closes, but still, we’ll be keeping an eye on the dash and who’s had a chance to participate! We don’t want to have it going too long, but always endeavour to make sure everyone gets a chance to get involved!

Alright, I think that’s all I got for now folks! As always, come to us with any questions you might have! And we’d appreciate if you bring them to the main blog Ask so that we can share event related questions with everyone! 

Also, just so everyone knows, the tag the mod blog is using for this event is col22awards2—so you can track it if you want! But this is a mod only tag, so please just use col22awards for your own stuff! It’s just simpler, and that way the tag remains uncluttered for admin stuff in case anyone wants to track it! Thanks!

Very much looking forward to this portion of the event! Can’t wait to see what you guys bring to it and all the fun chaos on the dash! 

Okay, have fun ya’ll and Happy New Year!!

xxMod!Ro

[i-anand-mishra]

Five Stages of Negotiation - From Preparation to Agreement

Negotiation require methodology. The expert negotiator invests more time in preparing a negotiation than an average one, and that’s why he takes the time to think in advance a set of arguments with which to defend his position and downplay his concerns and expectations.

Basic Negotiation Skills Exercises

Negotiation is a skill that comes handy in almost any life situation. You negotiate when you are trying to motivate your son to do his homework. You negotiate when you and your friends are deciding on whose turn is it to be in charge of the grill on your next gathering. And you even negotiate with yourself when you are saying “no” to that piece of cake on a Monday because you are on a diet and you are supposed to eat perfectly clean up to Saturday.

Suggested Read: KPI Digital Marketing: Which ones should you track?

But even though negotiation is ubiquitous, in this article we’ll focus on it from a business point of view. Without a doubt, being a skilled negotiator can be a very valuable asset in many business situations so putting in work to improve negotiation skills can’t be underestimated

The Five Stages of Negotiation

1- Preparation:

Without preparation, there’s no result. Preparation increases your flexibility, imposes rigor and forces you to follow certain automatic patterns, or basic negotiation skills, that get better with time and practice.

The more automatic patterns you have at your disposal, the more ready you’ll be to face the many unforeseen events so typical of negotiations. In this stage, you need to define and note down which are the points that need to be discussed, the milestones you want to reach in the negotiation, the concessions you are willing to make and the limits below which you are not willing to go.

Read Also: Anand Mishra Is A Motivation For All Aspiring Entrepreneurs

Key questions to ask during the preparation stage:

What do you need from the other part? In which order of priority?

Being a good negotiation involves good preparation and practicing negotiation skills exercises. How do you plan to prepare yourself for the negotiation at hand? What’s the minimal amount of time that you need to devote to this particular negotiation?

Are you B.A.T.N.A calibrated? (B.A.T.N.A stands for Best Alternative to Negotiate an Agreement)

2- Exploration:

This stage involves researching, exploring and establishing a dialogue with the other part, so it can be considered part of the pre-negotiation process. Because in order to propose (stage number 3) your first need to know what the other part wants.

The dialogue and the meetings will allow finding the common ground between both of you and uncover what matters most to each part as well as discover the motivations or inhibitions of the parts involved.

I- Calibrate your B.A.T.N.A:

Once you have determined your B.A.T.N.A during the preparation stage and you RP (Reserve Price) you have all you need to know which is the lowest offer you can accept in the negotiation. In the exploration stage, you need to find out which is the highest price you think you could get and find out the RP of the other part.

II- Calculate the RP of the other part.

3- Proposal:

A proposal is a provisional offer that one of the parts makes. The proposal gives an answer to the following question: What does the other part want and in which order of priority?

Creating an anchor (price) in the initial proposal is useful for finding out the BATNA of the counterpart, setting the negotiation rhythm and building a foundation for the next rounds of negotiation. If this wasn’t the case, because the anchor is below or above the RP, then the correct answer is to counterbalance its influence with an aggressive counter proposal and pointing out the need to work together to close the distance in the negotiation.

The negotiation progresses when both parts exchange realistic proposals and it stagnates if what is being exchanged are arguments, opinions, and emotions instead.

4- Exchange:

This is a key moment in the negotiation, where it is of utmost important being able to listen and interpret every word the other part says in order to detect flexibility or weakness.

There is always a need for hiding behind any proposal. Concessions are a tool to close the gap between us and the other part and it’s only possible to negotiate if concessions are made.

In the exchange, the rule of thumb is asking before giving. Conditions before offers.

Every word said during a negotiation has a why, and the data they reveal can be either conscious or unconscious.

At this stage, a negotiator must always be taking into account the following:

Review of the milestones reached in each of the stages.

Highlighting the points in common between both parts.

If there is still a considerable gap between the parts, it is important to point out the common ground, no matter how insignificant it still seems to be.

Avoid reaching isolated agreements. Always take into account all the petitions of the other part in order to evaluate their priorities.

Realize that there is a correlation between a high aspiration level and a good result.

In other words, if you ask for more from the get-go, it’s very likely that you’ll end up with more.

5- Agreement:

The goal of every negotiation is to close a deal. The negotiation goes on until the very last second before an agreement is reached.

Written agreements usually reduce the risks. In any negotiation that involves plenty of data and specifications, it is crucial to put into the paper the most important points discussed until the definite documents arrive.

[yeastofeden]

Hello! Your Traitor Uraraka theory was an amazing read! I want to dive into the world of character/story/literary analysis too, but I dont know where or how to start... Any advice/tips you could share?

Thanks so much! I’m honestly flattered you would ask… I’m ahobby writer so a lot of what I know about analysis is what I learnedin grade school, on my own, or adapted from what I know about artcriticism & analysis….. Since you’re not sure on the start,I’ll just talk about all the core things I feel helped me getinterested in this.

Read If I had torecommend anything specificfor reading, I’d say lookinto classic literature – not because its “critically acclaimed,”but because a lot of the time classic literature has been analyzed byprofessionals in their fields, so it can be a nice way to see howother people handle character interpretation, storytelling, worldbuilding, and so on. I liked Shakespeare a lot, and you probablywouldn’t be surprised to hear that people analyze the shit out ofShakespeare. I probably picked up the most of my understanding ofcharacter analysis from indulging in Shakespeare alone.

Don’t like Shakespeare? I’d say look into stories that are just over 50 years old; Lord ofthe Rings, Catcher in the Rye, Pride & Prejudice, Lord of theFlies…. So long as you can find actual scholars analyzing it,you’re golden. Read things you enjoy; if you like anime and only care about that…maybe check out textbooks on classic anime.

Alongwith looking up how others analyze, start being critical with all themedia you consume. Movies are a great way to do this because it’sshort format and easyconcumption. You can stayfocused on critical thinking for a couple of hours while enjoyingsomething–I also think movie reviews are a good way to experiencecritical analysis. And don’t just watch good movies… watch badones too, and figure out why they’re bad.

WriteActuallywrite. Take all the interesting things you learned and apply it tosomething. Don’t just think about it; the tragedy about onlythinking is that nothing really solidifies like it does once youfinally put it out there. Talkto friends about it if you can drag them into aconversation;a lot of my analysis started out because I was talking with otherpeople. If you don’t have anyone to talk to about a series or don’twant to bother people with your miscellaneous thoughts, get a sidetumblr or a dreamwidth and just write things there to get themdown–ifyou’reshy, just don’t tag things.Tbh, sometimes I just write things out and then delete them when I’mfinished just so I can get the thought out of me. Writing is just apowerful tool tohelp organize thoughts into cohesive opinions.

Butdon’t just write thoughts only… build on them. Write your owncharacters and stories just for fun. Write fanfiction. WriteAlternate Universes. Really just explore your own taste in fictionand the kind of things you yourself want to see. If there’s onevery easy thing I could suggest… take your favourite characters orship and slap them into story that already exists. I wrote one of myOTPs a few years ago into HasChristian Andersen’s theLittle Mermaid,andit was interesting andfuntrying to suit different characters into the roles of the story.

Writingand reading as a combination are just good things for you; they helpbuild competency with literature and language, andby just indulging in the two of these while remaining critical canjust naturally better your ability to read deeper into things.

ResearchAlongwith the earlier mentioned analyses that you should look into, it’sworth it to look into like extra resources. Check out interviews withyour favourite authors; look at like Ted Talks about creativity andwriting; read into tropes and motifs; find creative people you likeand follow their work and look for trends; lookinto writing concepts and themes.Storiesare just made up of patterns and once you start finding the patterns,you can start exploiting them. A Hero’s Journey is one of the mostfundamental patterns we can follow in storytelling, and with someabstract thinking we can start to predict the events that will occurin a story. A lot of my theory is built up on observing patterns.

IfI could point you toward one single video, it’s Kirby Ferguson’sTED talk “Embrace the Remix.” It talks about the idea thatnothing is original and all things are just remixed versions of eachother. This is part of why tropes exist;  you could go look attvtropes.org and hit random and start learning about these patternsright now. Granted, I don’t recommend using tropes as a foundationof an argument, but knowing tropes can help you connect the dotsbetween series.

IfI had to suggest any non-literary research that’s worth lookinginto….Check out psychology, art, and/or culture. Psychology is just morepatterns, I use Maslow’s Heirarchy of Needs when I write andobserve survival horror. Art is another way to tell a story and isespecially useful when observing visual media. Culture can help youunderstand why people write the way they do, becausethere is a difference between Eastern and Western media andstorytelling trends.

“Personality sections”Alittle back story on me: pretty much all of thereading/writing/researching I do thesedaysis because I do a lot of text-based roleplay on Dreamwidth. I’vebeen doing this for about8 years.Overthe years, I’ve written out easilyover 30 “personality sections,” which are basically 500-2kcharacter summaries–for characters like Sakura from Naruto, Makotofrom Free, Jake English from Homestuck, and so many others–as apart of a way to “prove” that I understand the character I’mroleplaying whenjoining organized groups.I’ve also read literallyhundredsof these personality sections because I joined vetting teams forsaid organized groups, and have written many rejectionresponses to help people understand where they can improve.A lot of people I know hate writingthese personality sections… but I love them.

Youcould join RP and get a feel for it thesame wayI did, but that might not be your thing. But the process of writingthese “personality sections” wasbroken down to a science byroleplayers,and can be seen as a base form of character analysis. Wetalkedabout a character’s personality, what shaped them to be that way,and sometimes how that affected them in the future of their story.When I led a vetting team, these were the requirements I set:

Mustbe at least three paragraphs long for minor characters, fiveparagraphs long for main characters. Players should be able to conveya good understanding of their characters, but just describing apersonality isn’t enough. Make sure that when you explain aparticular attitude that you back yourself up with some canon proof,otherwise mods have to wonder where you are getting this informationregardless of our knowledge of canon. Be sure to explain clearly andconcisely, organizing your paragraphs so related subjects aretogether. Avoid explaining the personality in such a way that itreads like a history section - generally this is determined byunnecessary use of chronological order.

Andthese are the same guidelines I hold myself to when I work on my ownpersonality sections. Some people have broken down personalitysections in such a way that they are formatted “three positivetraits, three negative traits” withsome variance.Some like to talk about important relationships aswell.I always defend that personality should be backed up with actualcanon evidence. “Uraraka is kind,” I could say, but I should backit up with an instance where she showed kindness, such as when shesaved Midoriya from tripping when they first meet.

TheorizingIfI’m honest, I don’t much like theorizing. I like to read theoriesand I like to think about things, but I’m not actually partial totrying to predict the future of a series because I feel likeserialized stories are too choppy to be worth my time, and there’snot much sense trying to predict the future of a story that’sfinished. I’m more inclined toward theorizing about the past, orwhat’s already happened but wasn’t explained.

Mydisinterest in theorizing kind of shows….I’ve only written twotheories for Tumblr–Urarakais the Traitor (My Hero Academia), and Both Shiros are the Clone(Voltron). I think I ended up being right about the second one butI’m not sure where the interview isthatproves it, justthat it was SDCC stuff.Thereason I’ve written any theories at all is because I personally wasmotivated by frustration–I didn’t know why people weren’ttalking about these things. SoI made a post to try to get people to talk. BeforeI posted my theory, no one would have looked twice at Uraraka andthat drove me nuts.Now I’ve made a following strong enough that Uraraka seems to beone of the highest contenders in terms of just… gossip. Which,thanks guys. I’m floored.

So…. Myadvice would be to pick a subject you think should be talked aboutand go for it. Do the research. Canon-review. Takenotes. Search for patterns outside what you’re trying to analyze.Writeand rewrite and rewrite again, becauseanalyzing is basically high school but fun.

And…lastly…. Prepare to be wrong. You have a different sense ofstorytelling than anyone else. I have been bitten right in the assbecause I viewed and loved many-a character because I saw them theway I wanted to, and the author clearly did not share my views.And people might not like your theory; people might super hate iteven, and that’s not such a big deal. In the end it’s just fiction and we’re all just here to enjoy a story we love.

I…know that’s a lot, but Ihope it was at least helpful information! Ithink in the end the most important part is just to be critical andremain open-minded. Never stop learning. Choose your battles. Write about what you love.And don’t worry so much about being wrong. 

[chrisemrysblog]

Poker Pair Week: Day Three

Hello dears!

Soooo unlike what I had hoped, I couldn’t catch up on Day Four and I believe I’m rather off schedule now. I mean, I do believe it is Day Five; but hey, I’d rather still finish all the prompts! So yes, I will continue and finish this little story, just expect that it won’t be on time. Since, well, I don’t think I’ll write two days worth in the next few hours. I’ll continue writing in order too, so you’ll see Day Four eventually, then Day Five, etc.

But good news! I actually want to make a proper story out of this. I’m rather in love with what I’ve written so far, but I know some parts are summarized, just enough to give an idea of what happened. And while it’s fun to leave it open of how they acted, I do want to try expending all the moments I glossed over. So once this Week is over, it might take time as I won’t rush it, but expect one day a story that is the full/expended version of all I’ll write for Poker Pair Week 2017~

Poker Pair Week 2017 is my blog’s tag to read what was previously written!

Settings/Summary: Set in Searching for AW, but before Johnny and Kanda find Allen. A story of how Tyki and Allen meet again, end up travelling more or less together, and found themselves forming a bond that might not be just friendship. Note: The Allen in this story is similar to the one I write in Meet me halfway to the end! Mainly, this means similar characterization (which is also similar to how I rp him), but also that he is 18/19 years old. Meanwhile, this is my first time writing Tyki.

I hope you enjoy!

Partying; Inn; Memento; Hospitality

“Shonen, are you asking me out?” A grin.

“… Never mind, I changed my mind.” A roll of eyes, biting back the smirk at the way Tyki's expression dropped to almost panic.

“Come on now, don't be like that. You sounded like you would enjoy it, and I would be happy to come with you.”

Allen wanted to keep his neutral look for a bit longer, but Tyki was smiling now, genuine enough to be warm. So he breathed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Let's get on the road then.”

Three days had passed like a breeze, despite Allen enjoying each moment of them. It had been easy to dismiss what would happen after the fair ended, to accept the casual amusement of the little stands, and the company of Tyki Mikk. The white haired had not known what to make of it, what to think of how he hadn't felt this relaxed in weeks, but also how he had rarely felt comfortable with someone. It was as if his rational mind would want to remember this man had almost killed him, that he could easily decide to bring him to the Earl, that he had fought and caused death for the Order. But his heart would feel soothed by how easy going Tyki was, would feel warmed by the little realization of Tyki's concern and the way he lead Allen to feel better, safer even.

In the end, all he could do was push away his confusion, and appreciate the days spent around the man. Then, even as the fair came to an end, and sadness seemed to float above both of them, Allen had heard about a party in the next town North. A small ball, but more casual, amateur musicians gathered there, food and drinks to be served as people would enjoy the music or even dance.

It took him to find himself the morning after the fair ended, seeing Tyki slowly prepare to leave, for Allen to make an instinctive decision. For him to ask if Tyki wanted to come with him see that party. It had taken them both by surprise, but Tyki had been quick to grin in a way that felt rather happy, and then he had teased him.

Hence where they were now, taking the road together in the set direction in mind, and both pretending not to know Tyki's words might have been more serious than first believed.

It didn't take many days to reach the next town, but rather ironically, they were faced once more with the fact that with an event making the city busy, inn were rather full. Allen had to joke, of course, that it was too bad Tyki hadn't miraculously gotten a room before it grew too busy, silver eyes very knowing. He had been rewarded with the faintest darkening of skin.

It took them three inns before they found one with rooms. Except it only had one single bed room left; but the owner told them another inn also had a room left. Tyki had laughed a bit then, breathing out a sigh and Allen knew he was about to suggest the younger man took the room here.

Really, he shouldn't have been surprised. Yet Tyki was, in a pleasant sort of way, when Allen asked if the bed would be big enough to share, not without a long glance at Tyki's sigh. That, of course, made the man grin, and as soon as Allen got a positive answer and the keys, Tyki had thrown an arm over his shoulders while walking.

“Aww Shonen, you can't stay away from me now, can you?” He teased, though his grin was not an amused one, instead bright.

Allen threw a dark look at Tyki, but then his lips curled into a little smirk. “Aren't you talking about yourself?”

The man had to shove at Allen for that, earning himself a jag at his sides as soon as the white haired got his balance back, Allen's noise of protest having been covered by Tyki's sharp yelp. The two froze in the hallway, Tyki's smile fixed and Allen's own growing.

“Ty-ki~ Mikk~”

“… Yes?”

“Are you, by any chance, ticklish?”

“… No.”

Allen's smile turned wolfish. Tyki thought, fuck it, and willed himself to be untouchable. And rightfully so, because Allen's fingers went through his sides. It was his turn to smirk when Allen stared at his hand being within Tyki's chest, ending up removing it after a few seconds. Then he wiggled his left hand's fingers in front of him.

And he watched, snickering, as Tyki walked off to their room, going through the door, not without pausing to stick his tongue out. It was then than Allen had a suspicion, a realization. The keys were gone.

“Oh no you don't-Tyki Mikk, you better open this door.” Allen warned in a smooth, sugary voice once standing in front of said door.

A beat, and the lock clicked, Tyki opening the door a bit with narrowed eyes. “No touchy.”

Allen lifted an eyebrow, and from Tyki's glare upward, he could picture Timcanpy's amused expression. “Fine, fine. Now can I please our room?”

And this was how they started their stay there. It was also the stay that made Allen discover he felt more comfortable with Tyki's closeness that he had expected. They had just enough room to not be glued to each other in the bed, yet they found themselves entangled when they woke up, and that was quite the awakening. Tyki's arm had been draped over his frame, but Allen's own had been around the man's waist, tighter. His face had been pressed into the Noah's chest too, while Tyki had his nose into his hairs. And one of Allen's legs had been between Tyki's.

Both had stirred aware at the same time, because of how close they were. Timcanpy had a blast recording the moment they both flushed, clearing throat and untangling without words, from where he had been perched on the pillows, above them.

Way too soon, the party came, and went by. Allen had been a lot focused on the food, but Tyki managed to have a dance with him, under the excuse of teaching him one of the slow dance. It didn't occur to Allen until later, that all along the evening, he had been staying in Tyki's personal space, comfortable in the man's warm presence. It only jumped back into his mind when, after initially laying down on their own side again, Tyki sighed and rolled over, hugging Allen close from behind.

“Do you mind?” The man asked.

“No.” Allen replied after a second, letting his eyes close, pretending not to feel the happy sigh brushing his hairs.

Tyki was awake and out of the room by the time Allen opened his eyes, and he rolled on his back, scowling at the ceiling when he realized how… cold he felt. Cold and disappointed. Had he wanted to wake in Tyki's arms again? What a strange feeling to have, to want this much someone's presence close.

The white haired decided to push the matter aside, again, but this time he might not be able to not question it. Because Tyki announced he had to leave for now, and Allen almost asked, but the guilty look that Tyki didn't let land on Allen felt like a stone.

His face must have showed something though, because Tyki's lips curled a small, if a bit sad, smile. “Don't worry. We've been leaving the Exorcists alone for now.”

It was a small reassurance, however Allen still felt he had a heavy heart when they found themselves out of town, this time to part ways for an unknown amount of time. And he knew Tyki would have made a joke about it, if he had known he would be back soon.

“Allen?”

The call of his name, a rare occurrence coming from Tyki, made the younger man's heart skip a beat. His gaze, which had been looking far off, snapped to the Noah. Pure, vulnerable confusion showed when Tyki's hands slipped around his neck, behind it, and then he felt a small weight over his collarbone. Silver eyes glanced down, and stayed fixed on the pendant that now rested around his neck. It was a simple silvery-white chain with a tag that he knew usually was carved with a name, but had been left blank.

“This… is a memento of our time together. I didn't have it carved because… I wish for it to mean anything you want, to remind you of any memory you want.”

Allen's throat closed off for a bit, and he had to swallow back. He lifted his gaze back to Tyki, feeling his heart swell at the way the man was biting his lips, nervous enough to not notice the hope layered behind it. Then Tyki showed surprise when Allen put his hand on his shoulders, bringing himself just that little bit higher to place his lips on the Noah's cheek, low enough that his breath brushed Tyki's lips.

Then Allen had leaned back to stand in front of Tyki, contentment sparking into his silver eyes when he noticed the dark flush over the man's face, partially hidden by the gloved hand he had placed over where he had been kissed, wide eyes staring at Allen.

The younger man grinned. “You should have told me you wanted to exchange memento. That's all I had to give.”

Tyki stared for a second longer, then smirked. “Well, if this is what you're willing to give after a journey together, I can't wait for next time I find you.”

The certainty behind Tyki's words soothed the empty feeling that had started to carve itself in his chest, and Allen's expression shifted into half closed eyes coupled with a sweet smile. “Are you saying you would gladly leave for kisses?”

Tyki let out a low laugh, pinning Allen with a gaze that bordered on heated. “No, I'm saying I would come back for kisses.” He leaned forward, enjoying the way the younger man froze when their breath mixed, lips inches from each other. “Do keep yourself safe, Shonen.”

And like this, Tyki finally took his leave. Allen watched him go, and when he couldn't see the tall form anymore, he took another direction to follow. Not quite able to ignore the pounding of his heart, and the growing realization of what it meant.

Allen found himself in a small village after almost a week, having stopped only once to perform in a town, two days before. He felt tired, some part of him knowing the empty feeling felt less suffocating if he moved, if he didn't allow himself time to enjoy the sights, because not being able to share them was painful.

As it was, the village was small enough to not have a proper inn. Not many would stay there, usually able to pass, but Allen needed a proper night sleep. The Fourteenth had, after a while of being calm, started to stir when he had been on the road. It had exhausted him to fight off, to keep in his mind in place, but now at least the dark presence had grown dormant again.

It made the young man wonder, how the Fourteenth had not showed up once when Tyki had been around. Had he been worried? Or had Tyki brought a peace of mind to Allen that held him back?

The thoughts swirled into Allen's mind, and then they came to a stop when he bumped into an old lady. He was quick to apologize, gentleman smile on his face with a touch of shyness. The old woman took one look at the young man and frowned in slight concern, which made Allen worry about how tired he might be that it showed.

A lot, apparently, because after a kind smile and wave of hand that it was fine, she was asking if he was passing town. When Allen admitted he hoped to rest before travelling more, he half expected when she offered he stayed at her house, revealing she was the village mayor. He couldn't refuse the offer of hospitality, even less so that he knew he needed to rest.

So Allen Walker expressed his gratitude and followed, unaware that once he would be in his bed, she would give a call, summarized as, “Master Noah? Yes, he's here. He seemed very tired, and didn't eat much, though I suspect he held himself back. Yes, he definitely took longer than one would usually, but he didn't seem injured. Ah, it will be my pleasure accommodating you, Master.”

And the call had been ended, the old mayor going to her own bed, smiling at for the first time in all the years she had been informant for the Noah clan, she heard such genuine worry and care in the voice of one. She chuckled too, thinking of her friend in charge of the network of this region, and the gossip they would share at knowing this one Noah had been keeping a vivid track of the Exorcist's travels.

[vertyblog]

The Best: The Saga

I have a good friend, not on tumblr, who frequents terrible roblox roleplay servers, looking for fun.

A result of this fun is one of the best stories I’ve ever read. The Best story.

He preferred to remain anonymous, but I think this needs to be shared with the world. With that in mind, all of this text below this readmore is his own words, not mine, and a completely factual account of events. (The art is by me tho.)

Oh speaking of that-  the art was made at the time of original telling, which means there was some artistic liberty and also my art separates it into three parts while the actual text goes with two parts. I left both as is for the sake of historical accuracy.

Now then, before I get into the glorious clusterfuck that is my story, I need to make a few things clear. Yes, this was an RP, but it took place within an actual game space. All characters were in a "Physical" world and not just some text on a page. However, most complex actions were done 100% of the time through text. With that out of the way, we can begin.

This story is split into two pieces, each one taking place on a different real-world day. They all happened back-to-back, and the entirety of the story took place over the course of a weekend. As a sort of hobby, I like to go trawling for terrible RPs and join them to laugh at what I find. It's nothing short of incredible observing (and sometimes being a part of) the often hilariously bad antics Mary Sues get up to. This being said, while this STARTED as one of those times, it quickly escalated into the greatest thing I've ever lived through. So, enough of the backstory, let's get into it. For this particular outing, I decided to pick a Super Paper Mario RP. Yes, they exist and yes, they are exactly as terrible as you think they are. But that's not why we're here.

PART 1, In which a Hero is born-

It all started from the moment I logged in; we were off to a flying start. Basically every bad RP trope and sin was being evoked at the same time completely unironically by people who didn't know any better. I don't come to these to clean them up or set everyone on the right path, I come here to point and laugh at the people for my own amusement. Still, you can't exactly lurk an RP that takes place in an actual game; You have to be SOMEONE, and if you looked important in any way you would somehow be swept up into whatever crap they were doing. So with all of this in mind, I chose to look as unimportant as possible. I was a Green Toad. Not a frog, mind you, but those vaguely adorable Mushroom folk from Mario (Why am I saying this? I have seen some real idiots and the last thing I need is someone thinking I was a frog while doing this). Toads are nearly invisible, as far as the dozens of Marios and Luigis and what-have-yous were concerned. So, with my character set and with one eye on the global chat to catch any wonderful bits of Fail RP, I set off on the greatest ride of my life.

I chose to settle down in a town on one of the map borders. Honestly it was a quaint little place. Snow-covered, with a train occasionally showing up to ferry off whatever Joe Q. Jerkholes wanted to go to where things actually happened. Now, while there's definitely some cringe-worthy stupidness in every last RP I've gone to, I can reliably say without a doubt in my head that I have never seen something as laughably terrible as what this one group of people was doing. There was one group SOMEWHERE that were having a Cyberpunk RP. In this Paper Mario game. How exactly you do that is beyond me; it's not like the map is full of cities and technology and flying cars, and yet they were having the time of their lives blasting away at each other with their guns and smoking their cigarettes in back alleys that didn't even exist on the map. It's been over a month since this happened, and I can't even remember what was going through my head at that point, so I'll put it bluntly. I'll stand for a lot, I'll idly sit by and just let a lot of crap happen. This was just one step too far, and through the power of bad (great) decisions, I decided that I was going to put a stop to it. Of course if it was as simple as that, we wouldn't have this story.

Before I set out of the little snow-covered town, some preparations had to be made. Even if I was the most un-threatening Toad in the world, someone out in that grand old world would find SOME reason to start something with me. To that end, I took up a simple spear. There wasn't a single thing special about it; no legendary enchantments, no amazing artifact status, no +1. Just a completely mundane spear. And that was it. So with newfound weapon in hand, I boarded the train out of town. Cutting out the boring travel time, I arrived in a desert area. As frequently as these people were talking about their trenchcoat-wearing Bob-ombs and augmented Yoshis (I wish I was joking), I still had not a damn clue where on the map they actually were. As I would soon find out, where they were didn't matter. While the group actually having this RP was only something like six people, it happened to be the "Coolest" thing on the whole server, so everyone and their mother was copying it. Enter our first contestant, who now stood in front of me. His sprite was your average Shy Guy. The way he was DESCRIBED to me, he was nothing short of Adam Jensen, sunglasses and all. And just as I had predicted, he saw some random Toad wandering around and figured I must have been easy pickings. So he more or less started trying to kick my ass. If you're expecting some amazing and epic battle to get written here, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Instead, this is what actually happened. He tried his best to get his actions across, and I responded by using the largest words I could get from my vocabulary and putting them into my responses. After a few minutes of this, I'm convinced his brain shut down and he simply logged out. So, that was one victory for me. And I continued on my way.

To say that the effects of this RP were server-wide is an understatement. Everyone I came across had some bit of metal stuck to them somewhere, and I'm convinced they saw the Mushroom Kingdom as some glowing neon cityscape. Luckily for me, most of them seemed content to let me continue on my way. I wasn't out to burn down the whole server, my problem was specifically with the source of the madness. Rapidly exhausting the places these guys could be, I hopped on a cruise ship to maybe point me in the right direction (And to get away from the throngs of cyborg rejects wandering the streets). Unfortunately for everyone, not even at sea was I safe from out-of-place Cyberpunk whackos. Our next offender happened to be a Yoshi. This particularly wonderful individual had a mohawk and could breathe fire, among other fun abilities (Can you guess what color Yoshi he was? Hint: it was black). In hindsight, I'm pretty sure he was trying to make himself Bowser without actually playing as Bowser. At any rate, he was yet another wonderful problem who saw fit to try and murder me. To his credit, this guy wasn't actually thrown off by large words, and did put up a reasonable fight. After a few minutes of us dancing around the ship trading blows (And the entire thing being an inferno because of liberal application of fire), the two of us go overboard. It was either to escape the fire or he grabbed me and jumped, but that doesn't matter. What DOES matter is that when you replace a large portion of your body with metal parts, you don't float very well. To my utter shock and amazement, the Yoshi forgot to augment his lungs. I think he wanted me to pull him ashore and start some wonderful friendship between us, but I was having none of it. I left him to sink to rock bottom, which prompted some wonderful comments from him riddled with questionable grammar, mostly to the effect of "Aren't you the hero?". He didn't get a response from me. I was just some Green Toad with a spear.

So, I clamber ashore from this underwater zone and I'm on an island. Decently sized, and as I would soon find out, without a single other person on it. While I DID want to get away from it all, this was a tad extreme. I get to exploring and find out a few wonderful things: The only boat that takes you off of this island was broken because of shoddy scripting and would never arrive, there is nothing to do on this island outside of jump on things and reenact your favorite castaway movie, and the Circuit City wholesale saw no signs of stopping any time this century. What would have normally been entertaining roleplay failures in the global chat became anything but. I'm not some insane Mario fanboy, but having gotten this far into attempting to stop this from happening and having it continue unopposed just felt like a slap in my face; It was an insult to me, and this had gone from a visit born from morbid curiosity to an anger-fueled mission. With my only way off of this island never arriving, I decided on simply killing myself to respawn on the mainland. I was simply going to walk into the ocean, fall through the map, and respawn back where there were people. It was when I took five steps out into the water that something incredible dawned upon me. The entire ocean was a solid object, just like the land. It was simply a different kind of land painted blue and with a fancy water texture on it. Only the water immediately around the cruise ship was special in any way, with the rest of the ocean just being a solid slab. I was walking on water. I walked all the way back to the mainland. The mapmaker does deserve SOME credit, however. When I say this was an ocean, I mean it. The walk was long, but eventually, I came ashore once again.

Where exactly I ended up concluding my miracle walk across the ocean was another matter entirely, however. I stepped out into a forest that I hadn't been to before. Once again, giving the mapmaker some credit, I did get lost in these woods. After a couple of minutes of aimless wandering, the forest took on a different tone. It's become obviously more spooky (I use that term loosely. It was about as spooky as a bedsheet ghost) and it becomes very clear why: the woods appear to lead directly to the titular mansion from Luigi's Mansion. Why exactly it was in a Paper Mario RP I couldn't tell you, but there it loomed, amidst the trees and less-than-adequate lighting. It was here than I ran into a pretty large issue; not so much the mansion proper, but what was right next to it: E. Gadd's lab. This is one of the very few locations on the entire map that had actual, honest-to-God technology in it, so to say that it was swarmed was an understatement. Now, I want to make something very, very clear here. I won my first two scrapes with these clowns because of sheer luck or glaring incompetence on their part. No matter how well I wrote or how amazingly I could wield a spear, it would offer no defense from an entire room full of these people all coming at me at once. So the lab was a no-go, but I derived a small amount of joy from the fact that there wasn't a single one of them in the mansion proper. I like to think they were actually afraid of the place, although that probably wasn't the answer. So my next course of action was to go inside.

As mentioned before, the inside hadn't a single soul within. I have never played Luigi's Mansion so I cannot attest to the accuracy of the interior. For what little the words of a stranger on the internet are worth, it certainly looked the part. Probably much smaller than the real thing, but once again that isn't the point. After walking through a few identical hallways and being moderately shocked at the complete lack of anything even remotely resembling a ghost, I finally ran into someone else, and was more than surprised with what I found. I fully expected another wonderful individual to come charging at me with his cyber-arms and demand my lunch money or something, but instead I was greeted with a "Hello" and the realization that this one guy wasn't a cyborg. For those that care, he was playing as Mr. L, or at least had him selected as his player model. He wasn't exactly in-character, but I think he just wanted to talk to someone that ALSO wasn't trying too hard. We get to talking, and he genuinely threw me a curveball when he asked, "What's your name?". To be honest, I hadn't given our hero one yet. In thinking what name would be appropriate for a random Toad, something rang out in my head, something that Toads always seem to say. "I'm The Best.", I told him. Seemingly content with that answer, we exited the mansion together. It is at this point that, once again, I have to be the bearer of bad news. I'd love to say that we teamed up like some kind of Buddy Cop movie, found those jerks, and saved the day like the big-dick heroes you think are at the end of this chapter, but alas there is no such thing. So here's what actually happened. A hacker turned up, and crashed the game. As simple an anticlimax as that. With that being said, in all honesty I don't think I could've went out and gotten a better ending. There's something wonderfully poetic about Cyberpunk RPs ending because an actual hacker turned up.

If our story ended there, I would have been content. But once again, through the power of excellent decision-making, I returned the following day.

My second excursion started more or less the same way as the first: Roleplaying failures abound, yours truly as a Green Toad, and a whole wide world to blunder through. Except at the onset of this adventure, there were no Trenchcoats or Augments. It wasn't exactly 100% normal goings on in the Mushroom Kingdom, but really it never is. As I once again trekked up to that snow-covered village, I scanned the Global chat for anything worthy of my attention; be it offensively bad or just stupid enough that it had to be seen in person. Three things caught my eye. The first was a bodysnatched/posessed/evil/combination Princess Peach who was now out to kill Mario. Normally this would be cause for alarm, but there were roughly a dozen people playing as Mario. As far as I was concerned that Peach was doing her God-Given duty and thinning the herd, so I would let her carry on this most righteous mission. The second event was that, apparently, the Mushroom Kingdom was in the midst of some kind of alien invasion. This was ALMOST what this  part of our story was about, until I saw the third and final thing to grace my screen. Somewhere out in that world, out in that grand old expanse of continent, there was another Toad calling himself The Best. It was a common thing for any enterprising Toad out on the street to say; that wasn't what set me off. He was using it as a title, claiming that he was actually The Best. He swung those two words around like some kind of blunt instrument and expected everyone to bow down to him. So I made it my NEW mission to take the title from him. I had claimed in passing to a random stranger a day prior that I was The Best, and now the time had come to prove it. With spear once again in hand, I set out from my frozen home to take a random person on the internet down a few pegs.

I elected to not take the train this time, instead deciding to hoof it back to civilization. I had an entire server to comb for one man in particular; a train or any kind of fast-travel would raise my chances of missing my mark. Fortunately (Or unfortunately, depends on which camp you're in) it also increases my exposure to the ever-present bullshit that infests these places, which is exactly what I ran into. Fleeing at high-speed from a full-blown Dragon, a Princess Peach made a beeline straight for me. Yelling "Help me!" in about every way imaginable, she just sort of kept on running past me and left the first person she ran into with the monumental task of getting rid of a Dragon. Deciding a Toad was an easier target than a Princess, the dragon seemed pretty happy with the arrangement as well. I've had my fair share of fighting dragons, so I had a pretty good battle plan. Of course, EVERYONE always has a plan, until the goddamn lizard starts breathing fire. The start of the fight was pretty ineffectual on both of our parts, the Dragon trying vainly to hit the tiny target that is a Toad and me trying to piece together how I would take down something this stupidly big. Calling upon my experiences dealing with things far too large for a person so small to be expected to kill, I decided to take the Shadow of the Colossus road, and start scaling the beast. I'm assuming at this point the thing took flight and I somehow brought it down to earth again after a prolonged struggle, because the next thing in my memory is me still fighting this damn dragon in the middle of the desert.

I don't know just how long we had been locked in this struggle, but I know that at that point I just wanted to be done with it. I did my best to force the thing into a good position for me to gain the upper hand, but it's pretty damn hard to make a dragon do much of anything, especially when it wants to consume your weird Toad head thing (Is it a hat? Is it their head? Someone please inform me, I need this question answered.) But sure enough, through judicial use of baiting both literary and physical, I managed to get the Dragon into a corner. Three separate times I tried to end the fight with a decisive strike, but each one he would bullshit out of it. It's to be expected, the last thing anyone wants is for their character to get offed, even worse if its in an excessively embarrasing matter. "Killed by spear-wielding Toad" is about as embarrasing a death as you can have in something like this, being only a few steps above "killed by Goomba walking to the left". But anyway, that's not the point. After a bit more flailing, I took one final shot at the damn thing in such a way that there was well and truly no way out of it. Probably fed up with getting whooped all up and down the map and airspace by something only a few steps above "Goomba" in threat level, the dragon promptly ragequit. And that is the story of how I killed a dragon. Unfortunately (Or fortunately, depending on how you feel today) I didn't have time to go track down the Princess and inform her that the dragon was dealt with. I probably would've gotten a cake, maybe a statue, maybe ignorance. Who can say? At any rate, with that distraction dealt with I got back to my primary mission.

You would think that in a game like this, Toads would be in short supply. I certainly thought so, but apparently they were more popular than I first assumed. For a good long while, the only thing I did was wander the earth, find a Toad, and ask them if they were The Best. It was always followed with a "No" and I continued on my way. There were probably far better ways I could've gone about it; I could've just called the guy out in general chat and hopefully had him come to me. Hindsight is 50/50 and in spite of how often I'll think of myself as a smart individual, I am definitely not the brightest bulb in the box. Anyway, back to our story. This pattern of asking random Toads if they were The Best and moving on went on for a few more iterations, until I saw one of them get on a train. Thinking it was my man, I made a beeline for it, only for the train to pull out of the station and speed off with me having not even seen the guy's name in time. STILL unable to grasp the concept of "Global Chat", I did the only thing my mind thought of and started running after the train like an idiot. I don't have to put it in writing but I'm going to anyway: Trains are faster than Toads. I did not come even close to catching up to that train before it sped off over the horizon and carried the mystery man with it. So I did the (reasonably) smart thing and just caught the next one, hoping that maybe he'd be standing around the next train station, making my life easy.

It seems endemic of the Mario universe that nothing is ever simple. You want a dollar? Go bash your head against a brick. Out for a Sunday Stroll? Hope you're headed to the right, 'cause that's the only way you're going. So of course shit went down on the train. A player dressed as Mr. L walked up and down the cabin kind of aimlessly. Given my one and only instance of prior experience with anyone dressed up as Mr. L, I was almost delighted. For one brief and shining second, I thought I would finally have an ally against the chaos. The first words out of his mouth were that, verbatim, he pulled out a knife and tried to stab me. He was one Katana short of fufilling every stereotype in three seconds. Honestly I don't know what I expected. I never got a chance to respond to my assailant, as another player dressed up as Luigi spotted his evil twin, thought he was hard enough, and decided to have a go. Say what you want, but I wasn't about to deny Luigi a shot at his doppelganger. The two of them launched into combat, and I made myself scarce. I don't know who won the scrap. Some say they're still fighting to this day. All that matters is that the train pulled into the station, and I kept on my search.

The cycle continued. Find a Toad, ask if they're The Best, get the answer of "No", keep on walking. Until finally, I found my man. He didn't look like your average Toad, but that isn't saying much. Clad in some kind of cloak and armed with a spear all his own, he had chosen Yellow for his color. I approached, and I asked the question for the last time. I got a lot more than a "Yes", but to save all of you the hospital bill and subsequent psychiatrist visit, I'm just going to condense it down to a "Yes". After a while of his rambling about just how great he was, I cut him off with an offer someone of his pride couldn't refuse. It was something to the effect of "I don't think you're all that great, and I'll fight you to prove it.". Several sentences of heated words and a LOT of escalation later, it had gone from a simple test of honor to a full-blown fight to the death. My plan was to keep it on the down-low; any sort of high-profile and high-impact fight would be sure to draw attention from everyone and their mother, and the last thing I needed to deal with was some full-blown warzone. Unfortunately for me, someone playing as Bowser overheard us and walked up.

I know what I expected. I expected Bowser to go on about how HE was actually the Best and try and kill both of us. Instead, he said that he wanted to host this death battle at his "Rad castle". Before I could object to this in favor of the quiet 1 v 1 I wanted, the other guy agreed to it. What I DID finally say was that I would meet him there at sundown. Both for dramatic effect (which I knew he'd eat up), and to give me at least fifteen minutes to come up with a plan for when this inevitably went tits-up. So, with the date and time for our climactic showdown set, I hit up the local shops. I bought everything I could that I thought would give me some kind of edge, which turned out to not be much. Wandering the continent on a manhunt didn't exactly pay well, and I could only afford a few Mushrooms and a single Fire Flower. Knowing full well I was pretty unprepared for some kind of mass-swarming if Bowser sent out the army of minions he'd probably have waiting, I went anyway. Even if I was marching straight into what I thought was a massive trap, I had little choice anymore. I knew what I expected. When the sun set, and I made my way through that castle gate, I realized that I had completely under-estimated whoever was playing Bowser. What greeted me when I walked through that gate was nothing short of incredible.

You see, Bowser had spread the word about this fight across the land in record time. His castle was packed with people, all watching from the ramparts and the balconies and anywhere else they could stand or sit. And amidst them all, looking down from his throne room, was the King Koopa himself. As I entered the courtyard, he gave me a goddamn entrance worthy of some kind of wrestler on WWE. It was absolutely astounding. He went on to do the same for my opponent. I hadn't planned for an audience, much less one the size of damn well near the entire server. With that many people watching, I threw aside my plans for some quick and decisive conflict. These people probably paid really good fake money for those seats and goddamn if I wasn't about to give them their money's worth. And just like that, we crossed spears and the fight began. Everyone I had encountered up to this point was either incompetent or simply unintelligent. He was a completely different beast. Prideful, overconfident, and showboating like you wouldn't believe, but he could actually back it up. For the first time in my entire misadventure, I was toe-to-toe with someone who could stand up to me. He might have actually been The Best, if only I wasn't here. It was a knock-down, drag-out brawl, eventually exiting the courtyard and had us both parrying and dodging through all of those balconies and ramparts I had mentioned earlier. Spear met spear, strikes glanced, and we continued to drift through the castle locked into a lethal struggle only one of us would walk away from. Eventually the fight gravitated to the highest spire of the castle, steered there by both of us. We both knew the fight was going to end up there, and we both wanted to be the last man standing. Unfortunately for him, I borrowed a page from Joseph Joestar's playbook and started going for some hard reads and some pretty sick bait.

At the very pinnacle of the spire, I went for an all-or-nothing maneuver: I let him disarm me. My spear sailed off the tower and far, far out of my reach. Rather than go for the killshot, he gloated. He launched into yet another speech about how great he was and how I was a fool for challenging him and all that wonderful jazz said better by about three dozen other folk. It was at this point that I pulled out the ace I'd been hiding up my metaphorical sleeve the entire fight, and used the Fire Flower to launch a point-blank fireball right into his face. It caught him mid-sentence, and it gave me the upper hand, if only for a brief moment. My one regret out of this entire adventure is that I didn't have a cool thing to say at that exact moment. So, wordlessly, I dropkicked him straight off the tower. And down he plummeted, well within view of everyone who attended, right into the lava below. And with my brutal mission achieved it was official: I was The Best, and everyone in the server now knew. So much for being an unassuming Toad. As I stepped down from the tower back into the courtyard, Bowser stood before me and the exit. To this day, I am absolutely convinced that he was going to start something the moment the fight was over. But after the display I put on up there, he merely handed me my spear (No idea how he got it), told me that the fight was the most awesome thing he'd ever seen, and got the hell out of my way. With my goal attained and no reason to stick around with all the attention I was about to get, I walked out of the fortress and logged off.

But what if I told you it got better? The following day, curiosity won out one last time and I logged back in.

PART 2, in which the Hero becomes a Legend-

Everything up to this point was great and amazing, but this is the point at which this story transcends reason. It's also the part I remember the best, so strap yourselves in, this is going to be a long one.

I log in, I pick my Green Toad, I exit spawn. As an extra measure, to keep anyone who remembers me from last time from swarming me immediately, I hide my Username. Immediately, something strikes me in a metaphorical sense; I spy another Green Toad. Not exactly out of the ordinary, except they were talking to yet another Green Toad. Chalking it up to coincidence, I entered town. The sheer number of people playing as Green Toads was staggering. It had gone from nearly a dozen Marios, Luigis, and any other important guy that looked cool, to nothing but the most unimportant character in a Mario game in a very specific color that wasn't red. In one chain of bad decisions and murder in front of an audience, I had gone from some nameless jackass to the new meta. Everyone wanted to be The Best, it was goddamn surreal. On the upside, when everyone's The Best, no one is. So by virtue of being so popular, I was once again invisible. Imagine if every problem solved itself like this. On the downside, it was going to be a bit hellish proving my own identity. Still, it was nice to blend into the crowd again. I kept a watchful eye on the chat. With this many people wanting a title that can only belong to one man, I figured the entire server was going to devolve into complete anarchy sooner or later. There was a certain appeal to a server-wide free-for-all with everyone vying to be the same guy Highlander-style, but that's neither here nor there.

It was calm. It was surprisingly calm; no one went for each other's throats, life proceeded as normal. The Princess and a few Toads that guarded her walked amongst the crowd of people in the town square. Spotting her and her guard was pretty easy; they were the only thing that wasn't green. She was handing out invitations to the townsfolk for some kind of banquet or celebration or party or SOME kind of mass-gathering at the castle that night. Even the Global chat was calm; the entire server was, if only for a minute, peaceful. Honestly, the place had started to grow on me; I can say that I legitimately liked the dumb antics that I usually got up to every time I logged in. So I stuck around, even though nothing was going on; Hell, I thought about buying a house near the castle just to be closer to where the action happened. Funnily enough, this was the right choice. While I was house-shopping, I saw speech bubbles floating up from this sort of back area inbetween a few of the houses. It wasn't out-of-place or anything because the town was jam-packed; it was what the bubble said that caught my attention. "They can't know we're here.", it said. So, naturally the curious type, I ducked into a nearby vacant house and started spying on whomever was speaking.

It was more Toads, but something was off. They were purple and not green, the both of them. One just an ordinary Toad and the other using some kind of palette swap of Toadette, I think. Their conversation continued, and to say that I had struck gold was an understatement. So, to run you through who these two were and why they were about to set the greatest cavalcade of insanity in motion: Remember when I mentioned that there was some kind of alien invasion going on in Part 2 of my story? Well, these two were it. Shapeshifters, and not friendly ones. Obviously they wanted to take over the Kingdom, but their plan was to crash the gathering the Princess had planned for later tonight,  slaughter her and any other important figures that turned up, turn all of the Toads into more aliens through MacGuffin Magic, and then take their army and steamroll the rest of the continent. Now, I was in a bit of a tight situation. I didn't have my spear yet, so charging into the alley and handling them right then and there was out of the question. Warning the town or the Princess' guard was something I was strongly against, as that reduced me to nothing more than a whistleblower and not the absolutely legendary figure that I had somehow become in the eyes of these people. So really, I had one option: Get my spear, get supplies, and personally foil their plan in front of everyone. The only problem was, I did not have a lot of time or money to do it with.

I had very, very little in the way of coins to my name, and I wasn't just about to grab any spear from any old shop; It had to be the one I've always carried. The journey from the main city up into the snow-covered lands isn't exactly a long one, but it wasn't short, either. Worse still, what shops they did have up there were pretty lackluster in supplies and rather high in price. Still, I didn't have time to do much else. I made the trek, keeping a watchful eye on the sun and the global chat, hoping the party wouldn't start until I got back. I made it up there as fast as I could, and my spear was there waiting. I'd used it for a lot up until now, but its greatest challenges were still ahead of it. With my weapon of choice sorted, I walked into the local storefront. All I could afford was two mushrooms and a bottle of Hot Sauce that happened to be on sale. Honestly, I was ready to take anything I could get on the shoestring budget I had brought with me. As I departed back for town, things took a turn for the worse: The sun had set, the party had begun, and I was nowhere near the city.

I was running as fast as a Toad could go. I kept glancing from the road to the global chat; their plan could kick off at any moment and if I wasn't the guy to stop them then I don't think anyone else would. Yeah, everyone wanted to be me, but nobody wanted to have the danger of potentially having their character die doing heroics; they only wanted to be heroes and live to gloat about it. Sooner rather than later I get back into the town. There's no yells about dead princesses or mass anarchy in the town, so I only assume that I still had time left. Finally, I reached the castle proper only to be faced with something I forgot to prepare for: The Princess had posted up guards out front whom were actually checking for invitations. I didn't have one and I didn't have time to go looking for one, either. I had to get through that door as fast as possible; I had no idea where my enemies were and for all I know they were already inside. It's then that I looked at the guards at the door and remembered a very crucial fact: everyone was playing as a Green Toad today. If I could just get through the door, they wouldn't be able to pick me out from the crowd. So with that in mind, I picked my moment and simply sprinted through the doors. Once inside, I walked into the nearest group of similar-looking mushroom people and held my breath. The door guards walked in, picked some random fellow that just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time, and kicked him out instead of me. If you're out there, and you're reading this, Thank you random citizen. Yours was a pivotal role in this tale, and I will not forget your unintentional sacrifice.

I was inside, and the gathering was in full swing. Just what this was all for I never found out; I was moving too fast to take in the details. First it was scanning the crowd and trying to pick out anyone that was purple. Luckily, it seemed as though they weren't here just yet. Then, I tried to find the Princess. Outside of their plan and the fact that they came from outer space, I had no idea what those two could do, so my best bet was to get the Princess out of the castle and hope that the confusion they'd cause would let me and her get the hell out of dodge before the E.T.s realized she was gone. Let me tell you, it's no wonder Bowser is able to kidnap her so easily, because she REALLY makes no attempts to hide herself or even have guards around her. She was talking to Daisy and a few OC Princesses from made-up kingdoms about, well, me and my stupid antics yesterday. Almost on cue, I walk up to where she was standing and strike up a conversation. Well, perhaps "conversation" isn't the right word; it was pretty one-sided. I got her attention, and informed her that some very not-nice people were due to turn up any minute now and that she should come with me if she wanted to get out of this in one piece. This prompted a question I was hoping beyond belief would eventually get asked. "What? Who are you?" I needed only to utter three words and draw attention to my username for just a moment. "I'm The Best."

Three words worth twenty times their weight in gold. Three words that silenced a whole table full of royalty and fixated all eyes on me. Three words, met only with a singular response of ":O". With little ceremony, and even less to say, the Princess stood up and was at my side in an instant. I had lucked out; the person I was trying to save was also a huge fangirl. The rest of the table had their own things to say, but at that point my mind was already trying to think five steps ahead. Every second I was still at this party was another second off of the invisible timer heralding the arrival of the aliens. I was being posed with a really, really difficult question: How do you sneak a Princess out of her own party while attracting as little attention as possible? Frankly I didn't have an answer, so my initial plan was to simply say "Screw it" and walk out the front door, all witnesses be damned. Fortunately for the dramatic tension of the story and unfortunately for my nerves, at that exact moment, my time ran out, and our two antagonists strolled into the castle, shooting down my plans for an easy front door escape. Our escape was temporarily put on hold, and all mental resources were instead pushed towards NOT letting the regicidal extraterrestrials spot me or Princess Peach.

As fast as my fingers could manage, I typed out my instructions. Specifics aren't important, the gist of it was that I wanted her to stay as close to me as possible, and to follow my lead. With that out of the way, I ducked behind a pillar and triple-checked that I was talking into local chat only. It doesn't take a genius to conclude that attempting to do anything remotely discrete with Princess Peach is nigh-on impossible. The stealthy approach lasted all of fifteen seconds before the gig was up, the aliens spotted the Princess, and they started making a beeline for her. Now, at this moment, I did not have a lot going in my favor. My plan was falling apart, the bad guys were closing in at a very fast pace, and it was a very real possibility that if I wasn't the luckiest man alive our story would have ended much sooner and with a much bleaker twist than the version we got. Luckily for me, my original plan was still VERY fresh in my mind, and they weren't inbetween me and the door anymore. So with a very simple exclamation of, "RUN!", we made a mad dash for the door and the chase was on. It was at this precise moment in time that all hell broke loose.

When someone yells "RUN!" inside of a packed venue, people tend to panic. When shapeshifting space aliens pull out guns and begin firing into a crowd of people, said people tend to freak out. When everyone's pretending to be a hero and the shit hits the fan, you find out who the real heroes are. Toads were racing everywhere, lasers were being sprayed like Xcom just turned up, the Princesses still at the table were having a full-scale freakout, and what guards there were inside were fighting a losing battle at attempting to make sense of the utter chaos. The Castle emptied at an alarming pace, both because people were throwing themselves out of any available exit they could find and because there were two determined shooters killing those that couldn't. Ducking and dodging, my luck held out long enough to get outside with the Princess in tow. The streets weren't much better than the inside, with most of the sensible folk running as far as they could, and a few plucky people that didn't have a grasp on what they were up against charging into the Palace to play the hero. Still, if only for a few seconds, we weren't being shot at. Those few seconds let me think on my options to devise a new plan better than "Run like hell". I came up with "Run like hell, but towards the harbor, then get on the first boat going anywhere." And so, I informed Peach as we made a madman's dash towards the coastline. Unfortunately, the Princess hadn't caught on to the whole "Local chat" thing, and ended up saying aloud how great a plan it was. The aliens became an issue again really quickly after that blunder.

I called on every action movie chase scene cliche that my mind could spit out to slow them down. There wasn't a tremendous amount of city we had to cover, but it felt like I was running a cross-country marathon (In spirit. I was sitting in a desk chair holding "w" for a minute or two.). In spite of my best efforts, their blasts were getting more accurate by the second and the lead I had on them was evaporating. Still, sometimes you can call in a favor from Lady Luck, and sure enough when I reached the port, there was a ferry departing. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so a shout of "Get on the boat!" was all it took to secure our getaway. In my mind, it was the classic action dive onto a boat just as it departs the harbor, laser bolts barely missing the hero as he escapes below deck. In reality, all I did was walk into the designated "Get on the boat" area. Details, details; what matters is that I had managed to pull this escape off, and at least for the moment we were well and truly safe. A minute later, and we step off of the ferry with a few other frightened townsfolk in a place called Rogueport. I had no time to relax, however, as the ferry was very punctual, and I had only three minutes at best before the next one turned up, probably carrying two whole units of bad news. After a very, very quick examination of the town, I noticed it had a train station. An escape by rail certainly beat walking, and so we set about the time-consuming task of waiting for the next train. With what she percieved as a moment of peace, the Princess got around to asking what we were running from. There is no good way to explain to someone that Aliens are trying to kill them; take it from me, I tried. She didn't believe me; maybe she had doubts that I was who I said I was. Honestly, wherever her indecisiveness came from has no real bearing on the story, because the train didn't arrive in time, and the aliens turned up in all of their glory.

We were cornered, but I could tell from the way they were acting that they hadn't caught on to who I was just yet. There were some generic villain-esque statements, "Turn over the princess and we'll spare you" and all that nonsense. Their answer came in the form of a drawn spear and a combat stance. I thought over how this was going to play out. There were two of them, both with guns. There was one of me, trusty spear in hand and a handful of items to keep me in the fight. I made damn sure they didn't get the first move, and launched my attack. What played out was a game of cat-and-mouse, with them trying to stay just out of range and pelt what they thought was any ordinary wannabe with lasers until he went down. They quickly realised that I was no poser, and began to play dirty. Up until now, I had been dodging everything they could throw at me. They seemed to know this, too, and decided to fire on someone that couldn't dodge half as well: Princess Peach. My plans shifted from an all-out offensive to playing completely defensively, having to block or leap in front of every shot they now fired at the Princess. Things rapidly fell apart even further as what little healing items I had to keep myself in the fight disappeared at an unacceptable rate. It was absolutely clear that they were about to win, and Lady Luck was unreceptive to any further bribes as the train was still nowhere in sight. I looked into my inventory for some kind of 11th-hour miracle; who knows, maybe I had another Fire Flower I had forgotten about until now. The only thing left was the bottle of Hotsauce. To put it bluntly, I had no idea what it would do. Maybe it WAS another Fire Flower, just by a different name. Maybe it was one final healing item to keep me fighting for just a few seconds more. With everything to lose, I downed the bottle.

I promptly burst into flames.

Absolutely zero people were expecting that, myself included; the Princess practically fell over when it happened. Life had given me lemons and the means to go out and burn something down in one fell swoop; I felt Cave Johnson give me his strength from beyond the grave. I decided to see if space aliens were flammable by disregarding any form of subtlety and just bumrushing them, spear swinging all the while. Still shaken from the act of self-immolation and scrambling to come up with a counter of their own, the psychological warfare value of a flaming madman stabbing you with a spear proved to be the alien's Kryptonite. All told, these two were incredibly smart, but more than that they were organized. Maybe they had another chat program open or something, but these two were absurdly coordinated. This was one of the few times I managed to disrupt their harmony, and it gave me the edge I needed. For a few seconds I tore into them, paying back what they had done to me over the course of several minutes. When they finally got back in-sync with one another, they unanimously decided to run the hell away. With shouts of "This isn't over!", they fled back into town and away from the Princess and I. The train STILL wasn't here. I was completely battered, and if they had just stuck around for a second longer, that would've been the end of the story. Still, a pyrric victory is still a win in my books, and I turned to the Princess and gave a simple "Believe me now?". She did. She also believed that we needed a new way out of Rogueport, which I was more than happy to agree with.

Hoofing it out of town was somewhat unacceptable because that's what the bad guys just did, so that limited things slightly. After a few seconds of looking around, we found a blimp offering nonstop service to somewhere named Glitzville. I don't care what the name was, when I got off of that airship I was convinced that it was where Pro Wrestlers went when they died. It was literally this fighting arena floating in the clouds, built up like a massive coliseum. I have no idea what the hell Super Paper Mario's plotline is and even now I don't have any goddamn clue, but between the cruise ships, aliens, and Wrestling afterlife it must have the most confusing story of all time. At any rate, we moved inside, and I judiciously purchased snacks to get my HP back up (With the Princess' help, of course. She had money and I still didn't, glorified murderhobo that I was.). There was one problem that we noticed, however, and it was that Glitzville is its own little world; it doesn't connect to anywhere and was a very, very flashy dead end. Still, it was probably a bad idea to head back down into Rogueport in case the terrible twosome was there looking for us, so we decided to lay low in a floating sky coliseum for a few minutes. It didn't take long for someone to stumble upon us, and boy, had I seen nothing yet.

At first, much like an eldritch abomination, my brain could not comprehend what had walked up and started engaging in conversation. He was talking like several different big-shot wrestlers all got mashed together into one man, and said man was some kind of bird-person-thing. Absolutely ripped, on every poster all over the Coliseum, and asking me who I was. I still couldn't articulate a sentence, so it was a good thing the Princess was quick on the draw. "He's The Best.". I will never get tired of that line for as long as I live. Of course, Birdman wasn't quite ready to believe it yet, but a flash of my username made him take a step back. Obviously he recognized me, but he still had some doubts. I called it from a mile away; he wanted to fight me in the ring. I was of two minds about this: It would frankly be really, really cool to throw down with the guy, but I was in the middle of saving the Kingdom. I declined politely, trying to get the point across that this was a really bad time and that I had some more important things to do. Just as I'm about to walk out of the door, he says it. A declaration, and a challenge I couldn't refuse. "I thought you were The Best!"

The Princess was probably about to jump to my defense, but I was quicker on the draw this time. I turned right around. "I am. Meet me in the ring." Saving the world could wait; beating this bird was now my top priority. I handed the Princess my spear and headed ringside. At this point in our story, I was more than a little nervous behind the screen. The only thing I had ever made sure this lovable yet murderous scamp was good at was wielding that spear of his, and with it out of my hands I felt positively naked. To make matters worse, I was stepping into a coliseum with a positively ripped professional wrestler; I had really little margin for error here. As I strode through the doors that led to the ring and gazed upon the massive audience of NPCs, the very beginnings of an idea started to form in my head. As he, too, made his entrance, I got an overwhelming feeling of Deja vu. This fight, in a sense, was nothing new; save for my opponent and the locale, this was a repeat of yesterday. There was little warmup; we both were eager to get this started, with him wanting to thrown down with The Best and me wanting to end this and get back on the road. He started off with some bombastic moves and acrobatics, staying true to his avian nature and attacking in drops and dives. I did my best to stay out of his way, but he was the one in charge here.

With his high-flying style, he controlled the pace of the match from the get go. Finding opportunities to try and get hits in was difficult, and I could only dodge for so long. Eventually, he changed tactics and tried to bring me to the floor with a lariat. I ducked his arm, and seeing this as what could potentially be my one and only opportunity to get a hit in, threw out a leg sweep. I was expecting him to dodge it and retaliate with something of his own, but not only did I connect, the way his response was worded was like he just got hit by a car. In that moment I remembered just who I was, and the enormous amount of weight my self-made title held in the eyes of these people. What the hell was I afraid of?

I was The Best.

To figure out just why this happened, take a minute to imagine what the conclusion to yesterday's match must have looked like to everyone but me. A nameless man challenges some hotshot that's been hooting about how great he was all damn day to a duel at Bowser's Castle, and without saying a word, brutally murders him and then disappears without a trace afterwards. That is the kind of edgy-ass intro and outro all of these people WISH they had, and I just sort of did it without even thinking about it. Because of that, rumors had spread about The Best. What he was truly capable of, where he had come from. At this point, not even I knew just how strong I really was. Truly, though, there was no better place to find out than in this ring, against this bird. I pushed my newfound advantage, and the tide began to turn. Every time he came down, I was ready for him. Instead of dodging, I was blocking and countering. The tables turned, and I threw in some style of my own. There was something inside of me that felt deeply, deeply validated when I came up with the idea to start using spears, as in the wrestling move, in this scuffle. I soon decided to really push the envelope, and go for suplexes. I didn't have a mirror anywhere near me, but I didn't need one to inform me of the big, stupid grin on my face when some tiny mushroom man grabbed a buff bird three times his size around the waist and actually pulled it off. In spite of all of this, the eagle would not fall, always managing to kick out at 2 and keep the fight going. Maybe it was a dare from him; some kind of pride that made him demand that I truly gave him all that I had. Perhaps he just wanted to drag out a fight with a legend for as long as he can. I'll never know his reasons, but they didn't matter. If I lingered here, there was the chance someone with less than wonderful intent would walk in and kidnap the Princess while I was distracted.

With this in mind, I had to go big: bigger than anything I had used so far. One move popped into my head before all others, and I decided to give my opponent a finishing barrage worthy of a Platinum game. He launches a few strikes of his own, but at this stage in the game I knew that I was a god among men. Like Neo at the end of the first Matrix, I blocked and no-sold everything he pulled out. Finally, he over-extended, and I saw my opportunity. Getting him in a grab once again, I launched into a wholesale stolen Final Atomic Buster, but I didn't stop there. After slamming him down into the mat and leaving him stunned, I sprinted out of the arena, shoulder-barging through my exit doors and rushing into the stands. From there, I ran up as high as I could go, and launched myself into an elbow drop that shook Glitzville to its very foundations. I transitioned into a pin, and at last, he stayed down. The Princess was cheering, the NPCs were cheering (But that wasn't news, they were always cheering), and I took a second to bask in the glory of it all, before remembering that there was still a world I had to save. I helped the turkey off of the floor and, as he described it, an indent in it shaped exactly like him. There was a small conversation afterwards, and I want to give the player behind that bird a shout-out. He never broke character once, and goddamn was he skilled in the art of a good RP fight. Still, my journey wasn't going to end here, so after some goodbyes, we got back on the Zepplin and the Princess and I came back down to earth. Unfortunately, it was not the same earth that we had left. In my fifteen or so minutes of absence, the aliens had gotten busy.

I had saved the Princess, yes. However, that was the only thing I had managed to save. Every other Princess at Peach's party was dead, logged out, or otherwise totally on-board with the new management. The general population of the server, easily swayed, were all over the chance to sign up as world-conquering aliens. Except the ones that weren't, which ended up becoming something called the X-Nauts in some attempt to fight the space aliens for control of the server. To put this lightly, the Kingdom was a war zone. Conflict and strife had erupted everywhere, and anarchy reigned. At first, I was ready to take up my spear and take on the entire world, but that's when I realised something. That's exactly what the last guy calling himself The Best did, and then I came around and knocked him clean off of his high horse; I could not let me pride consume me like it consumed my predecessor. No, if I was going to win this war, and bring peace back to the land, I needed a plan. To fight back this many people, I'd need an army of my own. Only problem was, I didn't have much left to work with. The aliens were converting anyone they could get their hands on at an alarming rate, The X-Nauts were razing everything they came across, and if I didn't act soon we'd be caught in the middle of it all. It was here that my mind came up with its final, greatest plan. I already had an army, for all intents and purposes. I just had to convince an old acquaintance to lend it to me. I told the Princess that we were going to pay Bowser a visit. For a minute, she thought that I had played the longest con in the business, and was about to hand her off. Fortunately for her, I hadn't come this far for a cop-out ending like that.

Our travel time to Bowser's domain was not a completely peaceful one, with lots of sneaking around on our parts. With everyone having moved on to other things, I was once again the only Green Toad on the map. If anyone caught sight of me, I'd be drowning in assailants from both sides of the fight, and chances are I'd lose the Princess in the human tidal wave. Once again, I do not know the storyline to Super Paper Mario, so for all I know, everything happening around me was super canonical. Still, I find it hard to believe that space aliens toting guns were fighting men from the moon decked out with technology all their own and even some towering mecha, in this universe most known for an oversized turtle that kidnaps the same Princess from her castle over and over again with two plumbers playing the hero. Either way, we made the trip to Bowser's castle a little easier when we stole one of his airships and simply flew all the way there. You'd think that would attract a lot of attention, but so do giant robots piloted by space men laying siege to your town. We slipped through by simply being part of the background noise. We DID, however, end up attracting a lot of attention from Bowser, and what little forces he had managed to hold onto during this war.

The welcome we recieved, by flying up to Bowser's own fortress in one of his stolen airships, was a lot less than warm. It was plenty warm temperature-wise, active lava flows have a tendency to ensure that, but that did little to warm the ice-cold stare of a few Koopas at the front gate. The fortress was already on edge given all the fighting everywhere else, it's a wonder they didn't try shooting us down before we even got this close. Still, as I strolled down from the ship's wheel and dismounted with the Princess, the general tone at Casa de Bowser went from "barely-restrained fury" to "utter confusion" real damn fast. They were prepared for an army, hell they were probably ready for a last stand, but the moment they commanded me and the Princess to halt, and demanded to know who I was, they collectively realized that they weren't prepared for just one Green Toad. I told them three words, and revealed my username for the whole fortress to see.

"I'm The Best."

Their momentary silence spoke volumes, more than what came out of their mouths next ever could. They could have done a lot in that situation, and what they chose to do was doubt my claim. It was a pretty sensible move on their part, after all if a man came to your front door and claimed to be the President, the first word out of a lot of people's mouths is going to be "Bullshit". Unlike the possibility of the President upon your doorstep, they next decided to attack me. And that second part told me everything I wanted to know about the company Bowser still held. They were tenacious, weren't afraid of literally anyone, and had so much loyalty that they would sooner throw themselves at the mushroom equivalent of Chuck Norris over disappointing their lord. They went down in a few moves on my part, but I knew I was in the right place. I told the Princess to hang around outside of the gates, and that I wouldn't be long. More came in behind them, happily a few more troops than I was expecting Bowser to have. It was a creative writing exercise on my part; I had to find a way to disable or knock out every combatant that came at me without roughing them up too bad, after all if my plan worked these were going to be my soldiers. Skipping over a stroll through Bowser's castle with a couple of speedbumps on the way, I made it to the same courtyard I had begun yesterday's deathmatch in. And wouldn't you know it, Bowser was waiting for me atop his balcony. I didn't have to say a word, he knew who I was. He didn't know why I was here, though, and that part got me to say quite a mouthful. In short, I needed an army to take back the Mushroom Kingdom, I had the Princess on my side, and he was the world's only shot at getting thoroughly un-fucked. And here, I got some very lovely exposition on the situation and exactly the level of fucked the world was at that moment in time.

As far as Bowser was concerned, it was already too late. The aliens had everything they needed to complete some kind of ritual or something, the usual "Unseal the ancient evil" type of plot, you know the kind. The only thing really stalling them was the X-Nauts, and even then it wasn't going to last for much longer. The moment this thing was out of its can, the aliens were going to bowl over everything that wasn't them. But to top it all off, out of everything he COULD have called Bullshit on, he thought I didn't have the Princess. That was the easiest fix in the world, all I did was whistle and she was by my side in an instant. I don't know what it was about that gesture, but the moment Peach came into the frame, he did a complete 180 and agreed to help. If it was all screwed anyway, then he thought he owed it to his men, the Princess, and even me to be, and I quote, "The nastiest thorn in their purple side for as long as we can!". Which was a hell of a motivation, but from there? We had a start. I had my army, I had the Princess, and I had a clock counting down to Doomsday. What I didn't have was an assault plan.

I did have experience and a black belt in kicking asses by these folk's standards, though. So I let Bowser figure out the finer points of the assault, while I grabbed up every Goomba, Paratroopa, Koopa, EVERYONE I could get my hands on inside that fortress, and I trained them. It was a crash course if ever there was one, and I knew that at best, these guys were only going to get me so far. Still, when an army "trained by The Best himself" came rolling over the hills, suddenly these mooks were going to be looked at like supersoldiers. I devoted no time to planning the assault out myself, as I figured, having done it so many times and with me at his side, Bowser needed no help coming up with a plan for breaking into Princess Peach's castle, and my faith was not misplaced. The X-Nauts had the full brunt of the alien's attention, currently launching an all-out, last-ditch offensive from the harbor in some vain attempt to get in and drive them out before their Cthulhu cult did its job. We were going to come in from the side, using the very airship I rode in on, and take the aliens by surprise. We were nothing more than a handful of hopeful idiots, but we had Bowser, and we had me. With the element of surprise, he thought, smashing into the castle and taking out the aliens was going to be a cakewalk. Getting out again was going to be the problem, but he thought I could take care of that part on my own. I didn't object to that. After all, I was The Best.

And here, I took a moment to realize just how far I had come in the past few days. As I had said at the very start of this chapter, I had gone from some nameless jackass to the new Meta literally overnight. I didn't come out here to be the hero, but here I was, at the forefront of an army I had personally trained to save the world from an alien invasion. From beating back cyborgs with big words to suplexing a buff bird in the great Wrestlemania in the sky, my story was a winding, insane pathway that I don't think will ever be replicated. And one way or another, when I got on that airship, it was going to have an ending. I was going to do everything in my power, and perhaps a few things beyond it, to see this through to the bitter conclusion.

Just before we departed, there was one thing I had to take care of. I had to ensure that, during this whole escapade, nobody swooped in and stole Peach out from under me. Honestly, at this point she had little value in the grand scheme of things but I'd be the shittiest goddamn hero ever if I let the Princess get offed during the big battle with evil. I couldn't keep her at my side, we were marching into a war zone. I couldn't just leave her at the castle, as everyone and everything was coming on this assault, and either side could kick down the doors with no one home. Eventually, I picked one of the more useful people in my army, and told him to stay with the ship for as long as he could, both to defend Peach and to rain down hell with the cannons. Something about me calling him "The best in the army" really sold it to him, though, and he agreed to the plan. That was all the preparations I could make, because we were out of time. By the way things sounded in the Global chat, it was now or never. Everyone piled on to the ship, Bowser took the helm, and I climbed up the mast to deliver a pre-battle speech to my men. I don't remember the whole thing, but I remember the gist and spirit of it.

For as long as anyone could remember, this land had heroes. Gods to some, they were so almighty on the field of battle that none could ever hope to best them. And as far as anyone knew, no one could surpass them. Everyone in front of me, from the Goombas to the King Koopa himself, had lived in the shadows these figures cast on history. Well right now, I didn't see those heroes. Instead, I saw in front of me something far brighter, far deadlier, far stronger. Now, it was everyone else's time to shine. This was OUR time, damnit, and for once in our lives, WE were the giants people would look up to, not because of some prophesy or some pre-ordained onus of heroism, but because we had fought tooth and nail for everything we had. And now, in this dark hour, it wasn't gods that rode on wings of fury to save the world, but the common folk with absolutely nothing to lose.

When that first volley of cannon fire left the Airship, the Aliens had no idea we were even coming. Two seconds afterwards, though, they found out real quick. Bowser didn't just land the ship, no, he ran it aground right through a column of the purple bastards and the broadsides started FLYING after that. I vaulted the railing, leading my army from the forefront, and from there it was all a blur of combat. I can't know what happened for sure, I was so sucked up in the high of warfare that my eyes were focused solely on that castle at the end of town. I think when Bowser crashed the ship, it gave the aliens such a shock that their front line basically collapsed, and the X-Nauts came pouring through. It was absolute goddamn pandemonium. The chat was moving so fast that I just closed it, instead relying on the speech bubbles popping up over people's heads to react to the warfare around me. We had aliens in front of us, X-nauts at our rear, and in the center of it all, a legendary Green Toad and his elite fighting force annihilating all that dared approach. Bowser was a one-man wrecking crew, bashing down X-Naut mechs faster than they could get to the combat zone, while I had attained a level of power so ridiculous that I was parrying gunshots with my spear.

I was invincible, shouts of "IT'S HIM!" and "IT'S THE BEST!" popping up so frequently that they accounted for nearly half of the local chatter. Nothing could stand in my way, but that didn't stop everyone from trying. The element of surprise only helped for so long, because as soon as they knew who I was, EVERYONE came swarming twoards me. My progress twoards the castle was slow, but I was simultaneously the unstoppable force and the immovable object. They could slow me down by sheer weight of numbers, but there was no halting our advance. Knee-deep in the conflict, I became blind to just how dire my situation was getting until far too late. I was making progress twoards the castle, yes, but things had been taking a turn for the worse right under my nose for a while. My men were good, but they had their limits. I had started to lose them, and it's only when I took a look behind me that I only saw four of them left, including Bowser.

At this point in the fight, the aliens had lost too much ground, and too many numbers. What remained was falling back inside the castle as a last line of defense, but the X-Nauts just kept coming. Whenever they'd lose someone, that guy would just run back to the Harbor and re-join the fray as reinforcements. There was absolutely no end to them, and soon making our way to the castle doors wasn't the biggest of our concerns. The X-nauts were grabbing all the space we gave up, and soon the five of us found out backs up against the castle doors, too busy fighting for our lives to get inside. I lost another man to the tide, but I couldn't fight any harder. I was hitting the limit of how fast I could type out coherent actions, there were just too many. On the other side of the screen, I was sweating bullets, both metaphorically and physically, because I was beginning to think I couldn't do this. I know that analogy that says, "What's a mob to a king?" and frankly, I don't think that man has seen what a pissed-off mob of people can do. Back against the wall, typing to my limit, I thought I had come all this way to finally fail right at the finish line.

And then, it happened. Lady Luck hid an ace up her sleeve from me this entire time. Chekhov's gun got speed-loaded and fired, because  Rawk Hawk dove out of the sky with the most literal interpretation of an RKO out of fucking nowhere I will ever witness. I don't even know how the hell he got up that high, the game didn't include methods of flight, and Glitzville was across the goddamn map. But SOMEHOW, that glorious bastard came in during the 11th hour, with an entrance so perfect that for a moment, I wanted to name him my successor. With typical professional wrestling banter, he tore into the crowd in front of us like a hurricane, and I knew that this was going to be the last miracle I got today. I told whoever was left to buy me time, and I kicked in the front door to the palace.

The war raged outside, and now inside I waged a one-mushroom offensive on everything those extraterrestrial bastards could muster. I channeled the collective fury of everyone that had ever played an XCOM game, and I ripped and teared my way to the room where the ritual was taking place. I don't know the names of any that stood beside me on this fateful day, and held that door, but if you find this story and you read it, know that I await you in Valhalla, brothers. Shoutouts aside, I made it to the ritual chamber. I found out I had made it too late, JUST too late, probably because the Ayys wanted to win so bad they had started to bend the rules. Either way, they had their God or Leader or whatever the hell they were trying to summon right there in the chamber. Frankly, I expected hentacle tentai or Cthulhu, what I got made very little sense and frankly almost felt like a cop-out. Standing in front of me, in the middle of this somewhat intimidating ritual circle, I had what I can realistically describe as an edgy Princess Peach and her Stand, The Downward Spiral. Upon looking this one up after the fact, I now know that I was staring at the Shadow Queen, but that name is nowhere near as good as what I came up with. And lo and behold, the first thing she asks is who dares to defy her.

Do I even need to type out what I said at this point?

The only noteworthy thing about her response is that she had never heard of me. Which frankly, is both an insult that a fourth grader would come up with, but also absolutely perfect given the context of everything about me. I properly introduced myself via a spear stab to her midsection, which didn't go over very well with her OR what little lackeys she had left. In the grand scheme of things, it's sort of funny how this adventure began and semi-ended with the same three words, in the same place. Upon looking it up, I now know the term for this is "bookending" but damn if life doesn't work out sometimes. Anyway, this final brawl proved to be one hell of a show, looking back. She was pretty reliant on that Stand of hers, a lot of stuff involving hands that sort of gave me a few flashbacks to Geb, but legally distinct from Geb because these are made of shadows or some stupid shit. It was a big game of keep away for her, because she could just keep the damn hands coming all day long, but I still had to land a hit on the actual her to keep the show going as planned. To pull out a cringeworthy joke on any readers, I was trying to catch her, while she was trying to make me catch those hands.

Still, a mob fight involving twenty different people is a lot different than one person controlling twenty different things. I was still fighting in mob mode, and she just couldn't keep up. I would have loved to know just how quickly I was launching my assault during that, get some kind of time-traveling WPM counter so I have a solid statistic to give you, but without that I have to describe it. I was typing pretty fucking fast, to avoid flowery language or a dumb analogy. She still dragged out the war of attrition for as long as she had patience, but at this point in the story I had come too far, and sacrificed too much to give any ground in there. Like the dragon a day prior, she gave up too much ground, got cornered, and I promptly finished the job. Unlike the dragon, she had enough respect for both the narrative at play and herself, and played out her downfall. Kudos to her, because with that one action she was already a better roleplayer than a lot of the folks that came before her. So, job's done, hero wins, evil is defeated, right?

I fucking wish it ended there. GOD, do I wish it ended there. In my mind, the X-Nauts would have fallen back, I would have strolled out of the palace, and me and my surviving troops would celebrate with whatever the Mario equivalent of a cold one with the boys is. But no, sometimes fate demands a final act.

I made my way back to the door, only to find that my troops were all dead and the X-nauts were swarming the lobby. Rawk Hawk, Bowser, every last one fought to the bitter end, of that I'm fucking certain, but in the end, they were overrun. I couldn't accept it! I flung open the chat window, trying to find ANY record of that battle, frantically scrolling up as far as it would let me. Maybe they just fell back inside the castle, and they're waiting for me to come rescue them. Maybe they doubled-back to the airship and they're going to come in and pick me up in a really badass, "You thought we were dead, haha!" sort of way. No, they were gone. They put up a slobberknocker of a fight and raised hell for as long as they could, but every last one died defending that door. And that wasn't all, no, if that was all maybe I could have accepted it. Wrought bloody vengeance on the X-Nauts until they gave up the ghost themselves, but no. I saw in the Global Chat the one thing I absolutely, positively did not need to read with my own two eyes. Somehow, two of those alien bastards broke through every last goddamn X-Naut, got to the airship, took down my best man, and they stole the Princess.

And at that point, all I saw was red.

I do not know where I summoned the typing speed from, nor do I think I will ever manage it again, but when those X-Nauts finally found me, they didn't even have time to call it in. I was on them like shit on a pig, and more than that, I wasn't stopping for anyone. Squads, mechs, it was all the same in my mind, just more obstacles between me and the only goddamn thing that mattered in this bloodbath. I kept one hateful eye staring into the global chat, and something kept turning over in my mind. Their names seemed so familiar to me, but I couldn't place them. Steeped as I was in the battle, my brain devoted solely to ripping through an entire army singlehandedly, I didn't know who I was dealing with. I hauled ass out of the town and cut down anything that tried to stop me, the X-Nauts could have the goddamn palace if they wanted it so badly. And only now, holding W harder than I had ever held a key in my life, did I recognize those two names. These two are the ones that started it all. That couple I saw behind the house, The aliens that shot up the palace, the duo that fought me at the train station, those two insurmountable dickheads that just couldn't accept defeat like everyone else, and had to try and drag me down with them. I thought they were going to kill the Princess any minute, petty bastards that they were, but no. They decided they were going to do it onboard a train just to fucking taunt me. Ride off into the sunset, kill Peach when you get there, and then log out. No chance for me to interfere.

But I knew that train real goddamn well, and it took its sweet-ass time getting to that station.

And I ran. I ran so far away. I just ran, I ran all night and damn well to the crack of dawn, because those bastards weren't getting away. Getting to Rogueport without the ferry, especially when you're traveling from the town, is a daunting prospect. It's not like you're running a cross-continent marathon, but with everything riding on my ability to get there before the train did, you can't fathom how long that sprint felt like it took. The train arrived before I did. They got onboard, but before it pulled out of the station, I slipped on. I made it there with time to spare, and in the interim, we could do nothing but awkwardly stare at one another, knowing full well the confrontation that was about to take place the moment this train left the station. It all came down to this, one final showdown between me and them. They had numbers and guns. Unlike last time, all I had was my spear. No miracle hotsauce to tip the scales, no healing items to call upon to drag it out. And just like last time, they had no idea who they were dealing with.

The train left the station, and we were transported to an endless bridge over an ocean, the train hurtling twoards the unknown. The sun was just breaking over the horizon, and the moment the game let us move, it was on. They tried the guns, but I was knocking blasts out of the sky like it was nobody's business. They tried to attack the Princess again, but this time I got so thoroughly in the way that they couldn't even reach her. Still, these two had otherworldly coordination, and a desire to see me fail almost as strong as my need to win. There was no cavalry coming. If I failed here, my legend was going to die with me. Lady Luck had pulled every string she could just to get me on this train; she had nothing left to give me, and in the back of my mind, I knew it. Both of them wouldn't accept defeat, not even taking a blow here and there to make the fight seem fair. They just wanted victory. I needed to make my own luck, and to do that I needed to throw the playbook out the window; do something so unconventional that not even they would see it coming. I did the absolutely unthinkable, gave a mental farewell to the only ally I had left, and threw my spear.

I threw it knowing full well they would dodge it without a second thought. Whenever he dodged, he moved his in-game character a little bit, just to make it feel that much more real. So when he went to dodge it, I "physically" sprinted right at him, and used the momentum of my in-game avatar to bodycheck him right off the train. No amount of godmodding or powerplaying can save you from literal, inescapable death, and just like that the fight was one-on-one.

The remaining alien was none too pleased with my maneuvering, and redoubled their assault to try and kill me. I was having fucking none of it anymore; I slapped that ray gun out of their hand and gave them a hook to the jaw. The fight with Rawk Hawk flashed through my mind, and I once again called upon every close-combat move I could muster. The chips were crooked, the dice were weighted, but I had no choice anymore. A spite-fueled grudge match on the top of a speeding train probably looked cool as all get out to any spectators, but in my mind there wasn't anything about looking cool, or being flashy. It was about being The Best. It was about saving the Princess, about conquering all of the odds, about being the hero everyone thought I was. But more than that? It was about beating this stuck-up, godmodding bastard in a straight-up fight. Still, there's only so much you can do in a roleplay fight when the other person doesn't want you to win. Take it from me, because I tried everything. There was no reasoning with them, there was no outplaying them. They wanted to see me die, and I wanted to see them fail. Only one person can get what they want out of a conflict like that, or so I thought. Something finally dawned on me, trading blows with this thing on top of the train for what felt like aeons. Nobody was walking away from this, and that is the only way this is going to end.

I had to face facts, I was going to die on top of this train but so were they. A world where neither of us win, but in a way, we both get what we want. I made my move, grabbing them with both hands and forcing them to the train's edge, both in RP and with my avatar. They fought the entire time, trying to squirm out of it, knowing what I was trying, but I wasn't letting anyone live. Not them, not me. I backed up just a hair's breath, and then came at them full-speed. The avatars ended up colliding with one another, flooring both of us as we tumbled over the side together. As I went over the edge, I said one final sentence to the Princess before I hit the water and met my fate. "Tell my story." And just like that, we slammed full-speed into the kill-zone underneath the bridge together, the alien keysmashing in impotent fury the entire time. A pyrric victory for me, but a victory nonetheless. I started to go through the motions to log out, and just before I exited, I saw the Princess' final words. She never even knew my name. Only that I was The Best.

That's my story, and I swear to god it's true. I'm sharing it because a few friends demanded a writeup, and while it took me a while to get it all together, better late than never. I don't want any fame from this, and I can guarantee that, for that reason alone, anyone claiming to be me is lying. The Best's story is finished, ended. Only a handful people know who it was, and I'm content with that. I'll go down in the annuls of nameless history like I've always wanted. All the fame, none of the consequences. Thanks for reading all the way through, you have a good day.

[jesusbukkake-blog]

Girls Scream Aloud story

Girls Scream Aloud is a story written by a man named Darryn Walker from South Tyneside that resulted in him getting taken to court for obscenity.

You can read the Girls Scream Aloud story online here because I realised there doesn’t appear to be anyone else who has created a mirror of it.

Obviously, I think it is absolutely terrible that anyone would be arrested for writing text and publishing it online.

This following story was not written by me in any part. Personally, I don’t think it’s very good. But fuck how my home and native land treat free speech.

Publishing this is definitely in the public interest. Motherfuckers.

This is the entirety of the text as it was originally posted on asstr.org

Everything beneath this sentence is his original post.

Girls (Scream) Aloud (FFM, nc, rp, inc, v, tor, bd, sn, mutilation)

By Blake Sinclair (blakesinclair69@yahoo.co.uk) ________________________________________ ________________________________________

WARNING! This story contains explicit imaginary descriptions of the rape torture and mutilation of five of the sexiest girls in pop today.

The following is a work of erotic/sadistic fantasy set in a world in which women are disposable sex objects that exist solely for the pleasure of men. It contains themes of extreme sexism, misogyny, torture, rape, mutilation, dismemberment, murder, execution and male supremacy over women. I cannot stress enough that this is STRICTLY FICTITIOUS and in no way reflects my own views or opinions towards women.

Under no circumstances should the violent situations of this story be re-enacted in any way. ALWAYS practice safe sex with consenting partners of a legal age.

The characters in this story are fictitious and any similarities between any persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

If you are easily offended by the themes I have described above then please read no further. If you are unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality and your actions are in any way likely to be influenced by these fictional events then you are not the sort of person that I want reading my work and you should commit suicide before an innocent person gets hurt because of your sick and perverted persuasions. For those who enjoy gratuitous sadistic erotica in the extreme and realise that this is nothing but fantasy, please read on….

***

Prologue

As much as I had always hated the sound of Girls Aloud’s so called music, like nearly every other man in the world I was willing to endure it in order to see their luscious soft female bodies on TV clothed in very little. How I fantasized about how I would kill five such sexy girls.

My most recent girlfriend, Lisa had looked a bit like Sarah Harding which my only reason was for ever dating her and for killing her in my favourite way when I got sick of her – to cut off her legs and tits whilst she was tied down naked and helpless.

Strangely enough though, in the last month nobody had heard anything from Girls Aloud. They had simply not turned up for an organised concert with no explanation.

I didn’t give it much thought as I would at least be spared that racket of their so called singing.

It was purely by chance then, that I stumbled across the most fantastic eBay offer I had ever set my eyes upon: Genuine Girls Aloud body parts plus a DVD of all five girls’ murder with every purchase.

I studied the images closely: Five pretty heads; five pairs if well formed tits; five carefully cut out cunts and five pairs of long sexy legs.

Hoping beyond anything I’d ever hoped for before that this wasn’t a hoax, I waited until the last possible moment and doubled the offer on Nadine Coyle’s legs and held my breath. I didn’t breathe again until I was satisfied of three things: Bid accepted; Payment confirmed; Goods dispatched.

It took only two days for my lovely new purchase to arrive and I eagerly opened the long box. My hands trembled as I tore away the soft inner packaging to reveal a pair of beautiful smooth sexy legs. They had been treated with a preservative called Soft Balm which kept a dead body from ever decomposing. It had been formulated to meet with the rising demand for men wanting to keep girls’ body parts as souvenirs of sexual their conquests.

Also in the packaging was the promised DVD. I loaded it into my player, sat down with Nadine’s legs in my lap and hit the ‘PLAY’ button on my DVD remote:

Victim #1: Nicola

According to its driver, the Girls Aloud tour bus had to be diverted in order to avoid upcoming road works.

The girls themselves were too engrossed to care so all he got was a simple “Yeah, whatever.” from Cheryl who was clearly annoyed that his announcement had distracted Kimberley from licking out her wet cunt. Beside Cheryl and Kimberley, Sarah lay in between Nadine and Nicola. Nicola lay behind Sarah and had one finger up Sarah’s tight little arsehole.

Sarah in turn had one arm stretched behind her and was fingering Nicola’s juicy cunt. Facing Sarah was Nadine who had one finger in Sarah’s cunt who in turn fingered Nadine with her other hand. Nadine was also fingering Kimberley’s cunt from behind. All the girls were well aware that they were being watched by the driver.

The driver hated these bitches and their teasing sex games which the little bitches knew he was watching on the bus’s internal CCTV monitor. They did so love to play their little teasing game for him which was why he’d spent months planning this particular detour. They wouldn’t be so arrogant soon, the overpaid little whores. Soon they’d be begging for their lives and making him very rich, not to mention very happy.

“I’m pulling into a garage here!” the driver announced. No one answered. They probably didn’t even hear him over their own moans and giggles. In fact they didn’t even realise that the bus had stopped and the driver had left it. They were too busy playing with one another’s cunts.

Cheryl gave a scream of ecstasy as her cunt shot its hot girl cum onto Kimberley’s tongue. Kimberley swallowed Cheryl’s cum and licked her cunt clean then giggled, as she wriggled with Nadine’s finger up her own cunt.

“Ha ha!” Kimberley laughed. “Cheryl’s out! She’s just shot her load.” Kimberley licked her lips at Cheryl. “And it tasted lovely.” Kimberley added and kissed Cheryl on the cunt then on her mouth so Cheryl could get a faint taste of her own juices. The others laughed as Cheryl stood up and walked away to get dressed.

It was only as Cheryl, still dizzy from the earth shattering orgasm Kimberley had given her, was sorting out a pair of tights to put on that she realised that the bus was no longer moving.

“Hey, we’ve stopped.” she called out.

“No, no, nooooo! Oh god!” Screamed Sarah as she was the next to orgasm. “Fuck you, Cheryl!” Sarah shouted “I was trying not to cum!” Nadine and Nicola both took their fingers out of Sarah’s arse and cunt. As they were both still in the game though, Sarah had to stay where she was and keep her fingers in both of their cunts.

“Where’s the driver gone?” Asked Cheryl to no one in particular.

“Filling up I suppose,” suggested Sarah.

“You’re right.” Said Cheryl. “I can smell petrol.”

The others instinctively sniffed the air.

“It’s getting stronger too.” Cheryl said.

“I don’t think that its petrol either.” Said Nicola, her voice straining with the effort of talking and keeping an orgasm at bay.

“Well bloody diesel, then!” Snapped Cheryl. “God, you can be a right pedantic cow at times!”

The smell got stronger.

Kimberley sniffed harder, “My car’s diesel,” she said urgently. “And I can tell you now that’s not like any diesel I’ve ever used!”

“What the fuck’s going on?” demanded Cheryl just before darkness took her and she hit the floor of the bus.

The others fell unconscious too.

Little did they realise what awaited them when they woke up.

* * *

Sarah’s eyes opened. Her vision was blurred. She was lying gagged on a cold stone floor with her hands tied behind her back. She was still naked except for the fact that someone had put a pair of sheer black stockings and black five inch heels on her.

As her vision cleared she realised that there wasn’t much light but she could make out the shapes of the others similarly gagged and tied. They had all had stockings and high heels put on them as well.

One of them moved, Nadine.

Nadine opened her eyes and looked pleadingly to Sarah. Sarah could only return her helpless stare. One by one the other three came round.

They all lay helpless on the ground as they came to their senses.

They hadn’t lain there for long when light suddenly flooded the building they were in. The lights were powerful and they all recognised them as familiar studio lights which they were well used to working under.

They were in some kind of large warehouse. It was sparsely furnished but for the lights and some odd looking apparatus in the middle of the floor and a couple of high definition digital movie cameras.

From somewhere out of sight, they could hear faint laughter: A man’s laughter. All five girls were getting very frightened. They wriggled futilely in their restraints as the sound of footsteps sounded in the distance and the shape of a man loomed into view.

He was large muscular and naked with a huge erection. His face was obscured by a black leather executioner’s hood and only his eyes and mouth were visible. The girls tried to back away as he approached them. He went for Cheryl first and effortlessly hauled her to her feet and dragged her to where five hooks hung from the high ceiling. He untied her wrists then snapped handcuffs on them, this time in front of her. Then he pulled her arms above her head and looped the chain of the handcuffs over one of the hooks so as she stood suspended with her feet just barely touching the floor.

Tears filled Cheryl’s eyes and she sobbed softly.

The man walked away and returned with Nadine. He repeated the process of hanging her by her wrists on one of the hooks then returned with Sarah followed by Nicola and finally Kimberley.

All five girls were crying now.

The man himself seemed to be adjusting one of the cameras so that it pointed towards the five helpless girls.

“Well, girls,” said the man in a rasping voice. “If you haven’t already guessed, you’re all going to die tonight.”

The girls all started shaking and pulling frantically at their restraints.

His cold cruel eyes looked at each girl in turn. The look of sheer terror filling each of their eyes was clearly pleasing him.

Finally he spoke, “Nicola. You’re first.” He walked up to Nicola and removed her gag.

“Nooooo!” she screamed “No! Please!”

The man lifted Nicola off her hook and dropped her screaming to the ground.

He then grabbed her by her long auburn hair and dragged her to where a work bench stood in the middle of the floor.

Nicola continued screaming. “No! Please! Somebody help me!”

The man lifted Nicola effortlessly onto the wooden bench and unlocked her handcuffs.

Nicola tried to struggle against his superior strength but he easily forced her arms wide apart and tightened her wrists into leather straps at the corners of the bench.

Nicola kept screaming.

The hooded man then grabbed Nicola’s kicking legs and similarly tied them at the ankles as wide apart as painfully possible so that her wet cunt lips were parted and vulnerable.

Satisfied that Nicola was completely helpless, the man held up a huge twelve inch vibrator for Nicola and the others to see. Nicola’s eyes widened at the length and thickness of the huge phallic toy.

The man smiled and activated the dildo. It buzzed to life with a faint hum. Then he squeezed it tightly and a sharp eight inch blade sprang from its tip.

“No!” Screamed Nicola louder than ever “Oh God! No! Please!”

The man retracted the blade and smiled. “As soon as you cum.” He said unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “As soon as you cum, the blade extends inside you.”

“No!” Screamed Nicola. “Please! I’ll do anything. Anything!”

The man ignored her and parted her already open cunt lips even farther with his fingers.

“Nooooo!” cried Nicola over and over again as she felt the huge rubber cock being forced up her tight cunt hole. It was pushed further into her than any real cock or dildo she had ever used on herself had ever been. She yelped in pain as the man gave it one last push and activated it.

The dildo vibrated fast inside Nicola’s cunt, stimulating that most sensitive area. Her clitoris sent all the usual signals of euphoric bliss to her brain despite her best efforts to resist. I mustn’t orgasm; she thought to herself, I mustn’t cum.

But the dildo was too powerful and after a few minutes of stimulation Nicola lost control of her cunt muscles as they squeezed and contracted around the huge dildo which was invading her body.

“No. NO. NOOOOOOOOOOO!” she screamed but it was too late. Inside her body she felt the release of her juices followed by a sharp horrendous pain of the cruel blade perforating her innards. She screamed her loudest yet as the man loomed over her once again this time holding a long knife. Nicola began to cough up blood from her destroyed internal organs. Her vision began to darken but she felt the man’s rough hand squeeze her tit hard. He then placed the knife blade under the tit and sliced upwards.

Nicola made a sound that was somewhere between screaming and gurgling blood. The man sliced excitedly until the soft tit was severed from Nicola’s dying body. He then did the same to her remaining tit, happy that she was still alive and conscious enough to still feel the pain and scream.

When both her tits had been cut off the man pulled the bloodied dildo out of Nicola’s cunt and with a smaller thin sharp knife, he cut around her cunt then pulled it out with a sharp tug. Nicola gave one final scream.

Although still alive, Nicola felt cold and numb and her vision was darkening. She could make out the shape of the man standing between her outstretched legs holding what appeared to be a large saw. Darkness finally took her as she thought she could hear a grinding sound and the feeling of something cutting trough her pelvis where her leg joined her body.

Victim #2: Kimberley

The four remaining girls looked in sheer terror at Nicola’s torture. She had stopped screaming now and the only sound they could hear was the sickly grinding sound of the man sawing the legs off Nicola’s mutilated body.

When the legs were cut off he placed them on the ground and unfastened the restraints holding Nicola’s arms. He then lifted her titless and legless torso and placed it on the ground beside her severed tits and legs.

The girls’ eyes flooded with tears at the sight of Nicola’s demise and at the knowledge that one of them was going to be next.

The man turned back to where the helpless four were hanging by their wrists.

They all began to struggle violently as he eyed each one of them in turn until his eyes settled on Kimberley.

Kimberley shook her head frantically as he walked towards her and removed her gag.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Kimberley. “Please!”

The man smiled “I’m betting you’ll do anything not to die like Nicola did?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes.” screamed Kimberley. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want! Oh God please don’t do the same to me. Please! I don’t want to die!”

“Well,” said the man menacingly, “Killing beautiful girls is horny work and I have the urge to cum in your mouth. Are you going to be a good girl and suck my cock?”

“YES!!!” Screamed Kimberley. “Yes I’ll be good and do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt me!”

He lifted Kimberley down from her hook and forced her to kneel in front of him.

“Suck my cock.” He ordered her. “And swallow like the little slut you are!”

With that he rammed his hard cock into Kimberley’s open mouth. “Use your tongue, you little whore!” he growled.

Kimberley tasted the salty pulsating cock in her wet mouth. Under different circumstanced she might have enjoyed it. But now all she could think was that her life depended on this blow-job although deep down she knew she was going to die anyway.

The huge cock pulsated and throbbed in her mouth until it finally exploded and her mouth filled up with hot thick cum.

There’s so much of it thought! Kimberley. As she swallowed it seemed as though more was pouring from the hard erection and she began to choke as she struggled to get all the hot semen down her throat.

Finally the man stopped cumming and pulled his cock out of Kimberley’s mouth. Amazingly, it was still impressively hard.

Kimberley gagged and spluttered as she tried to breathe again.

“Did you enjoy that?” the man asked making no effort to hide the fact that he clearly had.

“Yes!” cried Kimberley hoping that this was the right thing to say. “I want to do it again. Please can we do it again?”

The man laughed. “I don’t have time.” He said. “I’ve got to kill you and three more to kill.”

“No!” Kimberley cried. “You promised!”

“I didn’t promise,” said the man. “You were brought here to die, all of you were! And you’re all going to die. Did you really think that you could tease men all these years and get away with it? All those poses in magazines, those videos of you all wearing next to nothing showing off your tits and legs making men horny. Making men want you and then laughing because you thought that they could never get near you.” He looked down at Kimberley and then at the three others while he continued his obviously frustrated rant.

“But then the law changed!” he said “The law changed and women were put in their places. No rights, none of this equality bollocks! Just dirty little tarts for men to do what they like with. And now that’s exactly what I’m going to do with you.”

He picked Kimberley up and fastened her onto the bench as he had done to Nicola.

Kimberley screamed and begged as he forced her sexy legs wide apart and tied her ankles. He then began to lick her cunt out. She had already cum. Most likely out of fear.

“I knew this was making you horny.” He laughed as he stuck his tongue as far up her cunt as he could.

He withdrew his tongue and parted her cunt lips so he could look inside her. “Any more up there?” He asked “I hope so. There’s nothing quite like the taste of a frightened girl’s cum.”

Kimberley just kept on screaming at her violation much to the man’s cruel amusement. To his utter delight and to Kimberley’s shame she came as he licked out her sweet wet cunt. He licked up her rich white girl cum savouring the taste of her fear in every drop.

Kimberley had screamed all through her orgasm but now she had quietened as the man finished licking her and stood up.

“I think we’ll do it different this time,” he said as he retrieved his blood covered saw.

“NOOOOOOOO!” Screamed Kimberley. “God no! Please kill me first! Please! I’m begging you!”

“Sorry,” said the man. “But I can’t do that. I need to saw off your legs while you’re still alive so you’ll feel the pain. And I need the practice for when it’s Nadine’s turn. She’s got the sexiest legs in the world apparently.” He looked over at where Nadine was hanging.

“The sexiest legs in the world,” he repeated, “and I’m going to be the one to cut them off.” Nadine felt herself cum at the thought of dying in such a way.

Hot sticky girl juice ran down the world’s sexiest legs.

The man laid a rough hand on Kimberley’s throbbing wet cunt to steady her helpless soft trembling body and pushed his middle finger into her slippery well lubricated hole.

She screamed at this latest rough uncaring intrusion into her most intimate opening.

“Please!” She cried desperate to be spared the same, if not worse pain that had been so mercilessly inflicted upon Nicola.

The man ignored her pleas for mercy just as he had ignored Nicola’s.

He positioned the jagged blade of the saw on the bone of Kimberley’s pelvis where her long shapely leg joined her body and began to saw back and forth.

Kimberley screamed as the cruel blade broke her delicate skin at first then bit into the bone itself.

Kimberley’s shrieks of agony filled the vast building as the saw bit deeper and deeper with each stroke and each stroke Kimberley knew was one stroke closer to her leg becoming detached from her body.

Kimberley’s world was one of pain, unimaginable ecstatic pain until the sawing stopped and she could no longer feel any sensation in her sexy leg. It had been cut cleanly off and all Kimberley felt was a searing pain where the saw had severed bone tendons nerves and sinew.

Her screams had died down to a pant as she felt herself going numb from shock and severe blood loss.

The man must have realised this and knowing that Kimberley would soon be dead he proceeded to saw off her remaining leg to make sure she would at least suffer right up until the end.

The new wave of pain from her other leg being sawed off momentarily brought Kimberley back to her senses and she began screaming once again. To the man’s disappointment, her screams were short lived.

The pain finally left Kimberley’s body as darkness overcame her vision. The last thing she saw was the man smiling as he sawed away at her half severed leg.

Victim #3: Sarah

Sarah, Cheryl and Nadine looked on as the man continued to mutilate Kimberley’s dead body. He removed her cunt in much the same way as he had Nicola’s then he sliced off Kimberley’s tits.

Finally he unstrapped Kimberley’s body from the bench and placed her remains beside those of Nicola.

The three remaining terrified girls’ eyes streamed with tears and their cunts dripped with cum.

The man turned once again to the girls.

“Which of you little bitches wants to be next?” He asked.

The three girls shook their heads frantically as he approached them to select his next victim.

He looked at each in turn before settling his eyes on Sarah.

His ever hard cock twitched in excitement as he soaked up the look of pure terror in Sarah’s crystal blue eyes. He removed her gag and she gave an ear-piercing scream.

He also noticed the looks of relief on Cheryl and Nadine’s faces although their relief would be short lived.

The man lifted Sarah from her hook and carried her kicking and screaming over to the now blood soaked bench and secured her onto it in the same helpless spread eagled position.

“Now,” said the man looking Sarah’s body up and down, “how would you like to die?”

“NOOO! NOOO! NOOO!” screamed Sarah “Not me! Please not me!”

“Yes,” the man said in a low taunting voice. “It’s your turn.”

“Please!” sobbed Sarah. “I won’t tell anybody what you’ve done! I promise! I’ll just say the group’s split up. Please! You don’t need to kill me as well!”

“Why should I care who finds out what I’ve done here?” Asked the man “You’re all just girls aren’t you. It’s not like killing you is illegal, is it? You’ll try anything to save your own tits, won’t you?” Said the man.

“Yes!” Sarah screamed “I’ll even help you!”

“And how do you think you can help me?” The man asked feigning intrigue.

Sarah looked to where Cheryl and Nadine were hanging.

“What if I sucked your cock while you killed Cheryl and Nadine?” She said quickly.

“You’re not much of a friend,” said the man. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I hate them!” Screamed Sarah “They’re the most popular. World’s sexiest legs! World’s sexiest woman! That should have been me!” Sarah screamed.

A look of disbelief replaced the fear on Cheryl and Nadine’s faces. Sarah was frightened, true, but neither Nicola nor Kimberley had said anything like this. Fresh tears welled up in Nadine’s eyes but Cheryl’s eyes turned hard and she glared hatefully at Sarah. I hope it’s even fucking slower and more painful for you. You blonde bitch! She though venomously.

The man pretended to consider Sarah’s suggestion then said “I’m afraid I don’t see a way to let you live and cut off your sexy bits.” He said “So it’ll be easier for me and more painful for you if I just kill you like I planned to. But I promise you, your two friends will die just as painfully. You have my word.”

Sarah didn’t doubt it as she began to cry once more whilst the man picked up the long knife he’d used on Kimberley and Nicola’s tits.

The man turned the knife towards Sarah as she screamed in panic at the impending pain she was about to endure.

“Let’s see if we can make you last a bit longer than your friends did,” he said.

Sarah just kept screaming as he groped one soft tit with his rough hand and brought the knife beneath it with his other hand.

“NO!” Screamed Sarah. “Please! Don’t cut off my tits. Please!”

The man ignored her pathetic plea for mercy and brought the sharp blade up to slice through Sarah’s soft helpless tit.

Tremendous pain engulfed Sarah’s body as the man slices effortlessly through her soft flesh and lifted the pert severed tit away and placed it beside her head.

Sarah jerked her head the other way so she didn’t have to look at her own cut off tit.

“Oh my God!” She screamed hysterically, “My tit. You’ve cut off my tit. Put it back on! Please put it back on!”

The man enjoyed Sarah’s hysterical pleading and screaming as he likewise sliced off her second tit and placed it at the other side of her head so that now whichever way she looked, she would see her own severed breasts.

Sarah stared wide eyed in disbelief at the bloody mounds where her pert breasts had been only minutes before.

The man now held the smaller of the two knives Sarah had seen him use to cut out Nicola’s cunt.

Sarah’s own cunt began to throb uncontrollably as the man pushed his rough finger up it and twisted it cruelly.

Sarah winced in pain and screamed.

“Kill me! Please kill me! I can’t bear the pain. Please! You’ve had your fun with me. Please do the rest after I’m dead! Please!”

The man laughed and waved the knife in front of Sarah’s wet cunt.

“Please!” begged Sarah “Please make it quick!”

“If I make it quick I won’t have the pleasure of hearing you scream while I’m sawing into you.” He said.

“Please!” screamed Sarah again. “Please! Kill me now!”

“Your cunt or your legs?” asked the man.

“What?” screamed Sarah “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to cut one more thing off before I kill you. Your cunt or your legs? Your choice.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She tried to think: Her cunt would take less time to cut out than it would take to saw off her legs. But the thought of dying without her remaining claim to womanhood attached scared her for some reason. Then she thought of Kimberley’s hideous screams as her legs were being sawed off. She was in enough pain already.

“My cunt!” Sarah screamed. “Cut out my cunt and please make it quick.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” the man said putting down the knife and lifting the saw “I’m going to saw off your legs and make it slow!” He began to laugh.

Sarah screamed louder than ever. Louder than she ever thought possible.

The man clamped his rough hand on Sarah’s wet cunt and positioned the saw and once again began the motion of sawing back and forth.

Sarah screamed as she entered a new world of pain hundreds of times worse than that of her tits being cut off. She could feel the saw grinding into her bone, severing tendons and nerves. She was loosing the feeling in her leg as with each successive stoke of the saw it became a little more detached from her sexy body.

Darkness clouded her vision and she did not try to fight it. She was grateful that she would not live through the agony of her other leg being cut off.

The last thing Sarah Harding saw in her young life was the sight of her own beautiful leg being lifted away from her mutilated body. The last thing she felt was the most fantastic pain and fear induced orgasm.

The man sawed off Sarah’s remaining leg and released her body from the bench setting it and its sexy severed members onto the ground with those of Nicola and Kimberley.

Victim #4: Nadine

Cheryl and Nadine were paralysed with fear. The sight of their friends being dismembered alive was horrific enough but the knowledge that the same was going to happen to them was worse still.

The man walked up to them and he licked his lips lustfully at Nadine.

Nadine shut her eyes and shook her head frantically. She felt his rough hands clasp her pert subtle breasts. Her small perfectly round nipples were hard and pointed.

The man ran his hand down her body to find the wet slit between her perfect legs.

“Oh, Nadine,” said the man breathing heavily. “Your legs are so beautiful.” He pulled her soft body against his own hard muscular frame. His rock hard erection pressed into her soft quivering flesh.

“I hope you’ll live long enough to feel the pain of both your legs being cut off.”

Nadine felt her cunt throb and release its hot girl juice. She was frightened but aroused at the same time. She didn’t understand why.

The man removed her gag to reveal her pretty mouth. Which trembled in fear? Her lovely eyes were filled with tears.

“Please,” Nadine whimpered. “Please.”

The man looked at her. His eyes softened though not with regret.

“I have to, Nadine,” he said. “I need to! You’re my dream victim. You’ve got the most perfect legs in the world.”

“I’d liked to have kept you till last,” he said turning to Cheryl. “But I need someone to suck my cock while I’m cutting your legs off.”

Despite all she had just witnessed Nadine still couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

The man lifted Nadine’s slender body from the hook and set her on her knees.

“Suck my cock,” said the man “Suck my cock and I promise I’ll only cut off your legs while you’re alive.”

Nadine whimpered and nodded.

The man freed her wrists from behind the handcuffs and he made her hug his well toned waist.

He then guided his huge erection into Nadine’s accepting mouth.

Nadine had taken men’s cocks in her mouth before but she couldn’t remember one being this hard.

This was what a man with power tasted like she thought. A man with real power over women. The man who was going to kill her.

Tears fell down Nadine’s face as she savoured the taste of the cruel cock in her lovely mouth.

Oh, God! She thought to herself. Oh God! Why is this turning me on?

She curled her velvet tongue around the huge throbbing organ then used the delicate tip of her tongue to gently lick its raw end.

“Good girl,” Panted the man. “Oh yes! Oh yes! OH YES!”

Hot thick cum spurted from his swollen cockhead into Nadine’s mouth. There was so much of it. Even his cum had a taste of power about it.

Nadine swallowed it all knowing that she had never tasted cum like it b before and that she never would again. She sucked and licked until every last trace of the potent cum was gone.

The man made to withdraw his cock but Nadine tightened her grip around his waist.

His strong hands clamped her delicate wrists. “Don’t be greedy.” He said in a mockingly playful tone as he forced her arms from around his waist.

The man withdrew his still hard cock from Nadine’s mouth then he lifted her light body to the bench.

Nadine’s body convulsed in panic as she was laid on the wooden surface of the bench, too weak with fear to struggle.

“No!” She cried “Please! No!”

The man bound Nadine’s wrists and then her ankles so she lay as the others had with her sexy legs painfully wide apart and her cunt lips open.

The man took a moment to savour the sight of Nadine’s beautiful helpless body in the final terrifying moments of her life.

The man couldn’t resist stroking Nadine’s long stockinged legs with his rough hands and finally licking all the cum she had let out of her sweet sticky cunt.

Nadine’s whimpering became moans as she felt the man’s tongue on her legs then on her cunt and finally inside her cunt. He was good with his tongue she thought. He’d probably had a lot of practice and Nadine wondered how many helpless girls’ cunts he had licked or how many terrified girls mouths he had cum in just before he tortured them to death.

The thought made Nadine cum. It was the most fantastic orgasm she had ever felt and she let out more cum than she had ever let out in her life. For that moment her fear was forgotten and all she felt was ecstasy.

The man licked up Nadine’s cum savouring the taste of her fear.

Nadine lay helplessly as the man returned to where only Cheryl now hung from the ceiling.

Tears filled Cheryl’s beautiful brown eyes as the man lifted her off her hook and ungagged her.

“You’re going to suck my cock while I cut off Nadine’s legs,” said the man to Cheryl. “Then I’m going to let you go.”

“What?” asked Cheryl in disbelief. “You’re going to le let me go?”

“As long as you’re a good girl and do what I want,” said the man. “Will you be a good girl?”

“Yes!” cried Cheryl “Yes I’ll do what you want. Oh thank you. I couldn’t have beared to die like that. I’ve been so frightened! Oh thank you! Thank you!”

Cheryl broke down in tears of relief. A blow-job for my life. She thought. I can live with that.

The man walked Cheryl over to where Nadine lay on the bench sobbing in anticipation of her impending painful death.

“Cheryl?” cried Nadine.

“Oh, Nadine.” said Cheryl without thinking. “He’s not going to kill me! All I have to do is suck him off while he–”

Cheryl looked at Nadine. “Oh, my God! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry but I have to live. I just have to! I’m sorry!”

Nadine screamed in protest. “NOOOOOOOO! Please! It’s not fair!”

The man ordered Cheryl to kneel in front of the bench. With her wrists still cuffed.

He approached her holding the blood soaked saw and directed his hard cock into her waiting mouth.

Cheryl accepted the hard organ gratefully and immediately she began to work her tongue around the rock hard shaft of flesh.

The man took a moment to enjoy the sensation of his cock in Cheryl’s mouth then he placed his hand on Nadine’s throbbing cunt in the customary gesture of steadying the girl’s body before he began to saw.

Nadine screamed as she felt the cold steel of the saw’s jagged teeth touching her smooth skin.

The man couldn’t wait any longer. He drew the saw slowly back and then pushed it forward with a mall amount of pressure so Nadine’s skin broke at the joint between her leg and her pelvis.

Nadine could only scream as the saw went backwards again then forwards burying it a little deeper as the pain increased into a searing hot agony.

The deeper the saw went into Nadine’s body, the greater her pain became, the greater her pain, the louder her screams got.

The man continued to saw through the Nadine’s beautiful body; Cheryl continued to frantically suck the man’s hard cock and Nadine continued to scream as her beautiful leg became more and more detached from her body.

The man stopped sawing and it took Nadine in her world of pain, a moment to realise that her leg was completely severed. The man lifted the sexy long limb up for her to see.

Nadine couldn’t scream. She just lay gasping for breath.

On her knees at the base of the bench Cheryl felt the man shoot his load of hot cum into her hungry mouth. Deciding to play safe she swallowed the hot salty cum and kept his cock, which was still surprisingly hard, in her mouth.

The man looked into Nadine’s tear filled eyes happy that she was still alive.

He then positioned the saw on the opposite side and again began to cut slowly at first then faster as the blade buried itself into Nadine’s body.

Nadine felt herself going cold and numb but the sight of her legs, her pride and joy, not to mention her money-making trademark, being sawed off her helpless body, ensured that she kept screaming even though the pain was beginning to lessen.

The saw did it’s work just as it had done on her other leg and Nadine lay, her vision darkening, unable to scream, unable to speak, unable to make any sound or movement save for her sexy mouth quivering ever so slightly.

The man lifted Nadine’s second sexy leg up and hoped that she still had enough vision to see it being discarded along with the other. He then unfastened Nadine’s legless body and set it on the ground beside those of Nicola, Kimberley and Sarah. The last thing Nadine saw was the pile of beautiful, sexy female body parts.

Victim #5: Cheryl

Cheryl knelt in front of the bench sucking the man’s hard cock and swallowing his cum each time he ejaculated.

Nadine’s hideous screams had finally ceased and tears spilled down Cheryl’s cheeks as she realised that all her friends were dead. She deeply regretted her thoughts toward Sarah before she died. After all, Sarah just wanted do live, as did Nicola, Kimberley and Nadine. But through her regret she was secretly relived that it was over and that she was alive. The price for her life was high but she told herself it had been worth it: she would soon be free, or as free as any beautiful girl was in today’s society.

“You can stop now.” The man said to Cheryl with a sound of immense sexual relief.

Cheryl let the man’s hard cock out of her mouth and sighed in a different kind of relief.

The man then lifted her to her feet.

“Thank you,” said Cheryl weakly as the man unlocked the handcuffs which bound her wrists. Instinctively Cheryl threw her arms around the hooded man and sobbed uncontrollably. She felt his hard cock pressing against her soft body.

“Fuck me!” She whispered softly. “Please fuck me! I need to be fucked!”

The man said nothing but moved his hands down Cheryl’s smooth back and took hold of her pert arse cheeks then heaved her body up so he impaled her wet cunt on his ever hard cock.

“Oh God, yes!” Screamed Cheryl as she slid down the hard column of his man flesh.

She wrapped her black stockinged legs around his thighs as he began to pump into her soft hot body.

“Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!” Cheryl repeatedly panted.

The man sat Cheryl on the blood soaked bench and then leaned forward forcing her onto her back.

He then proceeded to take her arms from around his neck and held her wrists outstretched towards the corners of the bench.

Cheryl just moaned at the massive cock filling her wet cunt. She didn’t notice until it was too late that the man had fastened one of her wrists to the bench while more and more vigorously he thrust himself into her.

It was only when Cheryl wanted to pull his muscular body closer to her own soft body that she realised her writs had been restrained.

“What are you doing?” She screamed suddenly remembering that she was fucking the man who had mercilessly tortured her four friends.

The man continued to thrust into her more violently now, not caring if he caused Cheryl pain as well as pleasure. He easily held her other wrist into place and tightly secured it in the leather strap.

“No!” Screamed Cheryl. “No! You promised! You promised you’d let me live!”

Panic engulfed Cheryl’s whole body and she convulsed with fear just as the man ejaculated, shooting his hot load up her throbbing cunt. Cheryl screamed as she felt the hot cum enter her body and burn its way up into her body.

The man slowed down and withdrew his cock from Cheryl’s trembling body.

“I lied,” said the man laughing at his own cruelty.

“You didn’t really think I was going to let you live after killing the others, did you?”

Cheryl couldn’t bring herself to answer. She just sobbed as he tied her ankles with the leather straps.

The man then picked up the long knife.

Cheryl’s eyes widened in terror as he squeezed one of her large firm tits and began to slice.

Cheryl’s head exploded into a world of pain as the sharp blade made its way through her tit-flesh.

The man held up her severed tit for her to look at but all Cheryl could stare at was the gaping wound on one side of her chest.

“Did you enjoy that as much as you enjoyed watching it happen to your friends?” Asked the man.

Cheryl screamed at the horrendous pain she was feeling.

The man quickly set to work slicing off Cheryl’s other tit and again he held it up to inspect his handiwork.

Next the man exchanged the knife for its smaller companion and began to cut round Cheryl’s stinging cunt.

Cheryl’s screams got louder and louder as the man pulled out her severed cunt. She wanted it to end. She wanted this to never have happened.

She didn’t want to feel the pain of her legs being sawed off but she knew it was coming as the man discarded the small knife and positioned the saw beside the gaping bloody hole where her cunt had been.

The pain was unlike anything Cheryl had ever imagined. Even as she had watched the others’ legs being sawed off and listened to their screams a part of her tried to convince her that it couldn’t have been so bad. How wrong she was!

She could feel the saw separating her body from her leg and she screamed because scream was all she could do.

Cheryl watched as one of her beautiful legs was raised up high for her to see and fully contemplate what had happened to her.

The man, delighted by the fact that Cheryl still alive began to saw at her remaining leg.

As them man sawed away at the her remaining sexy black stockinged leg Cheryl’s vision blurred and then darkened but not before the man held up her leg to admire his sawing skills one last time.

* * *

The man looked at the beautiful dismembered bodies of five of the world’s sexiest girls. He set about sorting into pairs their severed tits and legs. He then carefully cut off each head from its dead torso and likewise grouped them with their respective severed limbs. All that remained was to pay the coach driver, take photos of the body parts for their auction on eBay and burn enough copies of the DVD he had just filmed.

Girls Aloud: The world’s sexiest all girl pop group had died the painful sexy deaths they had always deserved.

Epilogue

I switched of the DVD player suitably fulfilled by what I had just watched. I stroked Nadine’s beautiful legs in my lap. They felt smooth and subtle and were even more beautiful in the flesh than I had ever imagined.

The front door opened and I saw that it was my sexy little sixteen year old sister, Vicki, coming home from school.

Vicki was in awe at how beautiful Nadine’s legs were and said that I should dress them up in tights or stockings and display them in my room.

I looked at my little sister’s own sexy legs and decided that after watching such a sexy DVD that needed to pay a game with her.

“Strip!” I said to her. “Everything but your stockings and heels.”

Vicki quickly obeyed. She loved our games as much as I did.

“What are we playing?” Vicki asked “The Princess and The Executioner? Or the Prostitute Punishments?”

“It’s a surprise,” I said to her. “Run upstairs and lie on my bed with your legs wide apart and I’ll be up in a minute.”

Vicki ran excitedly out of the room and up the stairs. I would follow her soon but first I went to the shed to find a sharp saw and some strong rope.

THE END

Author’s note: the named celebrities in this piece are fictionalised representations of themselves. I do not condone in the real world any of the acts described in this work.

If you enjoyed this or my first story, Laura’s Execution, then I’d like to hear from you. Email me at blakesinclair69@yahoo.co.uk – Constructive comments only please.

[cursedkaze]

Batman Rogues and Tabletop RP games

The GMs:

Harley: Harley is hands down everyone’s favorite GM. Her homebrew campaign spans over five years real time and two generations of player characters. No-one can remember exactly what it started as, Eddie thinks it might have been the Lost Mines of Phandelver but he’s not sure. Harley has messed with the rules and world so much it is now entirely their own thing and the rogues love it. Being invited to join Harley’s game is a sign you’ve made it; they are zealously protective of their fantasy playground. Harley runs fortnightly sessions with nearly everyone as a player; if you can’t make a session your character is assumed to be there and receives a portion of the loot and xp accordingly, and if you can’t make more than two sessions in a row she’ll put the game on hold until you can so you don’t get left behind. At least one player every session will like video-chatting from Arkham and exactly how Harley manages this is a well guarded secret. She does Matt Mercer’s ‘how do you want to do this?’ for final blows on a boss. Harley bends the rules however she wants to make the game more fun and has a ton of house rules including custom fumble and crit tables.

Bane: Bane is an excellent Shadowrun GM; his quests are always gritty and morally ambiguous but leave you feeling like you’ve done something. They are great for detailed heists that leave everyone involved feeling like total badasses even if things go wrong. Has an excellent atmosphere and world-building with memorable NPCs and beautifully dark plots. The rogues love being able to play ‘heroes’ without having to act particularly good and noble and the world of Shadowrun makes a lot of sense to them. Runs a bimonthly campaign.

Scarecrow: Scarecrow loves the World of Darkness, specifically Changeling; the Lost. He runs an extremely atmospheric game complete with lighting, sound boards, dried ice and the most impressive set of miniatures anyone involved has seen (we’re talking individually tiled castles with real torches). He invites everyone to play as their selves and devotes a lot of time to a game that ends up being a mildly fantasy flavored silent hill. Everything has meaning, there’s tons of symbolism, absolutely unique monsters and it ends up being pretty good therapy for everyone involved. He considers it a good challenge to see how scary he can make things without using his fear toxin. Runs a one-shot on Friday the 13th, every Friday the 13th even if he has to do it via video-chat from a hospital bed.

Two-face: The Harveys run a module as written, neither are particularly good at crafting their own campaign. The dice is law, you will play the dice as is rolled and if you try to argue or fudge a dice roll they will break the corresponding number of fingers and toes (They make a special allowance that a character who rolls hideously low at creation can be said to have retroactively died before the game and you are permitted to make a new one). While this seems like it would make them the dullest GM Two-face’s games are actually highly anticipated for one reason; they are an amazing storyteller. Good Harv voices the NPCs and Bad Harv voices the monsters and they will all having unique character voices and really convey personality, you get caught up in the plot even though it’s just the module as written. They really make the world seem real and no rogue will even peek at the latest material until after Harvey’s run it. The best GM for newcomers. They run a session every time a new module is released and run some AD&D pickup games whenever they has spare time.

Ivy: Ivy runs a homebrewed campaign similar to the old Sonic Saturday morning cartoon. It’s a simple world of colorful good versus evil, nature versus technology, but not as over-the-top as you might expect from her. The unique thing about her setting is every player character is a plant/animal hybrid where the plant type is the race and the animal is the class. She runs her campaigns in Seasons, overarching plots that tie up surprisingly neatly when she decides its time for the big season finale session, with each session being an episode. She also runs one on one or smaller sessions with anyone who asks and emails a summary of events to everyone in the group. Ivy runs a fun, relaxing game that’s a great destresser for when things get overwhelming and you just want to explode fictional robots. Generally, she runs sessions whenever asked or when she notices people are feeling particularly down. A very well-loved GM.

Riddler: Puzzle dungeons but not always in the way you’d think. Eddie absolutely LOVES any and all tabletop games because he loves designing dungeons. He will spend hours on his theoretical death traps, micromanaging every tiny detail and possible solution. He owns every since source book, even the very rare ones and has them pretty much memorized, he is the ultimate counter to any rules lawyer. As a GM he is surprisingly considerate; he isn’t aiming to outsmart his players (because that would be too easy), he is aiming to create a dungeon that plays to their individual strengths and abilities while still creating an enjoyable challenge. His sessions are entirely homebrewed mixtures of clever dungeon puzzles and skill challenges tailored to the individual party members. He views a TPK as a failure on his part as GM and often has to be comforted by the party after one happens. Sometimes someone will find a solution he hadn’t predicted to a puzzle and leave him stunned. Runs irregular sessions but will talk for hours on end if asked about anything he’s planning.

Joker: If you are playing a game with the Joker it is because someone needs to be punished and you’re both too battered by the Batman to physically fight it out. When you play with the Joker someone is going to cry and the only reason to do so is it might be him. Whatever the game is what you are really playing is Munchkin versus GM; don’t even bother naming your character because your explicit goal is to ruin whatever bullshit he has planned until he eats his GM screen in frustration. He threatens his dice when he gets a low roll. No matter who wins in the end anyone coming out of a session with the Joker will have a story to tell; either of the incredibly unfair thing he pulled to make you lose or of the massive tantrum he threw when he realizes you beat him. Surprisingly doesn’t cheat, he doesn’t fudge the dice when they turn against him, but no-one has fun when you’re playing against him. Harley is most often his target but can give you helpful advice if you’re planning on facing him. He has a homebrewed game not even Harley would touch with a ten foot pole that he mostly uses to torture unsuspecting henchmen. He has the best, most over the top dice-shaming videos where he makes elaborate death traps for them whenever he loses.

The players:

Croc: Croc always plays himself, he loves that in tabletop games he can play as an eight-foot alligator man and be accepted as normal by the world. If he can be a dragonborn he is a dragonborn, if not he is an orc/half orc or equivalent. He will be a fighter, Barbarian or any other class based on hitting things until they die and dealing out physical damage. His strategy is mostly have high AC and high Strength then hit things until they die. He is surprisingly adept at cutting the knot; finding strength based solutions to puzzles that shouldn’t have strength based solutions. Everyone who GMs him despairs because they can’t keep his characters separate and end up forgetting what equipment and skills he has. Currently he most enjoys playing in Harley’s campaign. His green Dragonborn is a Paladin of his previous character, a Half Orc who ascended to a minor God of War and has founded a religion based on eating your enemies to gain their power.

Freeze: Freeze tries to pretend he is above it all but secretly he loves it and is seriously invested in all campaigns he is a part of. His characters are the most likely to have a fleshed out backstory he has sent to the GM beforehand and effects his game in a meaningful way. He is also the one most likely to be exchanging notes with the GM to freak everyone else out over what they could be planning. Like Croc he likes playing himself; he will always play a spellcaster with ice spells. If possible he will be a warforged. He refuses to do character voices and seems disinterested in the RP aspect as a whole but when Harley realized he was actually RPing his character as an emotionless robot slowly developing feelings of their own when he turned back to save the party, she gave him a permanent extra point of inspiration. A good planner, not so good improviser.

Hatter: Any and all of Jervis’s characters embody Chaotic Neutral. They are 80% wacky comic relief, 10% the Cuckoolander being right and 10% absolutely terrifying competence that makes you question if everything previously was just an act. If your campaign even mentions Jabbawocks or Vorpal weapons he will fight/acquire them even if he has to kill the whole party to do it (and he has killed the whole party to do it). He likes playing gnomes, currently he plays a gnome wizard named Fidget who Harley has homebrewed the Skyrim Wabbajack for (it rolls on the wild magic table) and couldn’t be happier.

Catwoman: Best rogue, always best rogue. It is a forgone conclusion, if anyone finds out she’s joining a game they will assume rogue is covered. If she’s playing it is assumed she has stolen everything that hasn’t been nailed down, she doesn’t even have to say it out loud. Inwardly she worries that she’s been stereotyped and would like to play another character type sometimes but also doesn’t think anyone else could handle rogue duties. Normally the moral center and party face, simply because she doesn’t murder everything on sight.

Clayface: Plays a jaw dropping variety of characters. Every character he plays is perfectly, sublimely crafted, from how they acquired every proficiency they had to the layout of their hometown. Basil just really likes making characters. He will play any class and any race, all with jaw-droppingly detailed backstories and hand-crafted miniatures. He just really likes making characters; he makes more than he could possibly play and will lend/gift you one if you don’t have one ready. No matter if it’s a pick-up game, a one-shot or a three-year campaign he will have a character ready that will perfectly fit the party. He is best at character voices and is kind of put off that Freeze isn’t bothering with one. He loves every character he’s ever played and gets genuinely sad when they die.

Firefly: Is always carrying the maximum possible amount of Alchemist’s fire. Enjoys playing a Pyromancer or Alchemist, the most likely player to not be paying attention to the plan and Leeroy Jenkins himself into trouble. Normally plays a Goblin Alchemist and does a great character voice. He and Hatter are responsible for 60% of everything that goes wrong for the party but damn, is it entertaining.

Doesn’t play:

Dr Strange: Thinks it is a waste of time but will observe for information about the players.

Hush: Will drop in for a few games but seldom plays more than three sessions. Generally up for a one-shot, likes mixing up what characters he plays.

Black Mask: Doesn’t have the patience for a full campaign but is a pretty good actor and sometimes get roped in by Harley into playing boss monsters and loves it. Makes a very convincing evil necromancer.

Penguin: Not a big one for RPing but will put up with everyone talking about their campaigns. Sometimes joins in Harvey’s AD&D nights but doesn’t have much of an interest in the later editions.

Deadshot: GM’d for his daughter once and she made her own miniatures out of things like rocks with googly eyes to Harley’s delight.

Manbat: Langstrom joins in with Harvey’s AD&D nights and has a fondness for Scarecrow’s Friday the 13th sessions. He isn’t reliably coherent enough to join in anything else. 

The Ventriloquist: Wesker thinks it might be fun to sit around with friends and play a game together but Scarface thinks it’s stupid and demeaning. Wesker only joins a game when Scarface isn’t around and is afraid he’s going to find out.

Zsasz: Thinks it’s more pointless than everything normally is.

[nolaroleplay]

Hello, m’loves! This is going to be a super long mod note as it’s been written and added to over the past week, so brace yourselves. But we kindly ask that you take the time to please read through it all. It is crucial that you are updated on happenings within the group, as well as being aware of issues we believe need to be raised within this post. Mostly, we speak of housekeeping duties, and some categories are simply reminders of our rules regarding things like activity and what not. It is, therefore, paramount that you are aware of all that is within this note, as we hope that by reading this we will not have to remind any of you individually. Thank you, in advance, for reading through this mod note <3 we truly appreciate it!

ACTIVITY

We are no strangers to being members of a group and having an activity timeframe to mindful of and work within to ensure our place in the group. It can be difficult when it comes to real life concerns especially. This is why hiatus opportunities have been implemented for you to take advantage of when needed (more information below). We also gave you guys a grace period during the holidays to better suit the busy time of year, because maintaining activity can be near impossible during that time. We know that school has started now, a lot of you are feeling ill, and these are perfect excuses to ask for a hiatus if you really are unable to get online but wish to stick around. 

However, as a member of this group, you applied knowing we have a FIVE DAY LIMIT on activity. You have essentially signed up to say “I can maintain activity in this group”. Our activity window is a lot longer than most groups, and the reason we chose to extend the activity window from four days to five, is to benefit all of you. However, we have noticed that some members have tended taken advantage of this by only responding once every five days, or pushing past the five days and then posting to remain in the group. Or, muse posts or texts are posted in hopes of maintaining activity. We really feel disheartened by this, as you all know the activity of a group is incredibly important to the survival of it. If real life is too heavy right now, or you are in a tonne of other groups and do not have the time for this roleplay, then please be honest with us, and honest with yourself. Otherwise, take the opportunity to have a hiatus, as discussed below. We adore you all and don’t mean to be harsh about this, but it’s really upsetting to see that people aren’t really following the guidelines they agreed to. 

BUBBLE ROLEPLAYING

If you are partaking in bubble roleplaying, i.e. mostly just responding to one person/coming online for one person, please consider 1x1 or Indie. Those types of rp’ing you might find will suit you better. Being a part of a group means interacting with a group. Sometimes it’s difficult to feel muse for replies or to make plots with other people, we get that. But it’s all about the effort you put in. 

GENERAL HOUSEKEEPING

BIOGRAPHIES: We believe we have posted all biographies for all characters. If you could please ensure that we have by checking the main and notifying us if this isn’t the case, that would be great <3 BIRTHDAYS: If you could all please notify the main with your character/s birthdays if you haven’t already.  EVENTS & TASKS: We have decided to have events hosted every 2 months or less, and there will be a task/s posted in between those. Therefore, we will be alternating between the two. We also encourage any memes or surveys to fill our for your characters, as this can aid with development! MUSE POSTS: We love them, but please limit them or at least not post a multitude in a row. I know we, ourselves, can tend to go overboard with them ‘cause they’re just so damn relevant.. but if we can all try to limit our posts or at least spread them out on queue or throughout the day, then that would be fab!  PLOTTING: Do not be afraid to plot with others to make your interactions that much more exciting! We as admins are 100% here to throw our characters at you. We can’t always get to everyone individually ‘cause we do have a lot to handle, so it doesn’t mean we’re not wanting to rp or plot with you, just that we’re uber busy. Please don’t be afraid to hit us up. 

HIATUSES

We always enforce the idea that REAL LIFE COMES FIRST, despite your responsibility to remain active within the group. In this case, if you need a semi or a full hiatus, please fill out this form. We will NO LONGER be accepting “Can I please get a hiatus til ____?” asks, as we have created a form for this exact purpose: to know where you are at and to be better able to help you with your activity/hiatus. That being said, if you are having a hiatus every week or having a 2-3 week hiatus and then asking for another, we might ask you to reconsider your position in this group, and whether you have time to be a part of it or not.

SECOND CHARACTERS

We know how much fun it can be to have second characters, where we are better able to work on multiple muses within the group setting. However, if you cannot handle two, or you feel as though having two affects your activity within the group, you might want to reconsider taking on the task of more than one character. It can be incredibly hard to upkeep one let alone two sometimes. That being said, if your activity has been good, then we are more than happy to grant second characters to you all, and encourage the taking on of multiple muses! :) 

STARTERS

Now this is one that we definitely need to remind you all about. We have particular rules set around starters so that nobody feels excluded, and to ensure starters are answered, and to also maintain a nice healthy flow in the starter tag (i.e. not overloaded/bombarded with starters). It is definitely not to be controlling or just to be kicking you guys up the butt all the time !!

Firstly, You are required to respond to THREE starters in the tag before posting your own. The reason we have implemented this is to ensure that NOBODY is excluded or feels as though their starter isn’t good enough, or that nobody wants to respond to their character, etc. We want to ensure everyone is included and has equal opportunities to be replied to. So please, take extra care in ensuring you are all responding to 3 starters BEFORE posting your own. Not after loves, before. That way we know you have followed this rule! We no longer want to have to remind people individually. Additionally, if you see a starter in the tag with minimal notes, please do not skip it. Make an effort. There is always a chance to respond to a starter, no matter the content or the character. Where there's a will, there’s a way! 

Secondly, no more than TWO starters per week. Please be wary of this. We do not want to see your character flooding the tags. —Not that any of you have done this thus far, but we felt it important to refresh our memories. 

LASTLY..

Please be kind to one another. That is all we ever ask for, that you consider the feelings of others and ensure you are going out of your way to include others, plot with them, and get to know them. I’ve always said a RP only lasts and works if the members are willing to work together, to be active, and to put in effort. And that is exactly what we strive for. We want to make this a long-lasting, fun experience but we ask that it also goes both ways. If you have read this post please give it a like. 

[doycetopia]

Masks "Menagerie" Campaign - Session 6 to 10

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about our ongoing Masks game (superhero antics in the vein of Young Justice, Teen Titans, or Avengers Academy), but that in no way means the game itself has slowed. Quite the opposite.

So, if only for the sake of bragging, I thought I’d catch things up.

The last time, I covered sessions 0 though 5. This time, it’s sessions 6 to 15, so buckle up.

Before I get rolling, I want to recognize two resources that have made this broad overview far more manageable.

The first is the forum that is automatically made available for any campaign you set up on Roll20.net. (Our game is played online, and while the voice chat isn’t able to handle our group’s particular challenges, the other tools it provides are invaluable.) The forum lives here, and sees continuous, nigh-daily activity in the form of fiction, world-building, general discussion, and (of course) the blow-by-blow Actual Play summaries – usually authored by Dave Hill – which supplement if not completely stand in for my spotty recollection.

(Said forum has been made even more valuable with the addition of a custom coded search/scraper that Bill forced around roll20’s forum code at great personal effort.)

The second tool is a more recent addition to our electronic tool box, a wiki built and customized (again, mostly) by two of the players, Bill and Mike. Thanks to the organization of the wiki (and downright sexy layout), I’m able to excavate all kinds of trivia and bits of game lore that might otherwise have flared and died within minutes of being introduced into a session.

With that out of the way…

When We Last Left Our Heroes…

Sessions 1 though 5 were mostly about introducing the heroes to the people of Halcyon, and the players (and myself) to the Masks system. They had a morning show interview, a downtown brawl with some bad guys, and then rode the fallout from those events, (including the speedster getting temporarily lost in an alternate, devastated version of Earth.)

Session five saw the team looking forward or inward – taking stock of the problems they had on their plate and making plans to deal with them.

It also saw their team coming to the attention of AEGIS, the SHIELD-esque organization of the Masks universe.

Issue 6

Issue 6 recording on YouTube

AP Report

One of the directives for a Masks GM is presenting adults as supportive but short-sighted; willing to help but always pushing their own vision and agenda on the teen heroes – help with strings attached. Okay.

Enter Agent Ted Waters (who’s probably going to be the most supportive, least strings-attached adult in the game – though that’s a low bar), an experienced AEGIS agent and the father-figure/handler for Link (whose actual father is super-villain Rossum the Minion Maker). Waters shows up at Quill Industries (the ‘sanctum’ for the team’s Doomed character) with paperwork in hand that will officially recognize the team by AEGIS… a move AEGIS hasn’t… umm…. actually sanctioned?

This paperwork is simple – it merely requires the team pick a name and an official leader. Easy, right?

The name had been under discussion via in-character posts on the forum, but we hadn’t brought it to the forefront yet. This was meant to facilitate that. They tell Ted the team will be the Menagerie and it gets the expected, bemused response from the older man (a good sign you’re on the right track in a teen-oriented game).

The ‘strings’ attached to this bit of help were more meta-level than an actual condition offered by Waters – the team had to pick a leader; a requirement I thought might generate some drama/angst/hand-wringing/reflection/et cetera.

It did all those things, so yay. 🙂

The team eventually settled on Jason Quill (the Doomed, played by Dave), a decision which the team treated with varying levels of seriousness. (Jason on one end of the panic-stricken-with-the-weighty-responsibility spectrum; speedster Mercury (Kay) providing the ‘whatever man paperwork is boring just write something in it doesn’t matter’ counterbalance.)

While Jason continued to process this development, Ghost Girl went and got herself in one kind of trouble (attacked by someone who saw her as a dangerous menace, starting both an arc and introducing her current Mundane-vs-Freak Hook), while Like found another (investigating a mutual friend’s disappearance and running afoul their supernatural kidnapper).

This development brought us to the end of the session with the team rushing to help GG, but split (“where the hell is Link?”), and under a leader (technically) who was still a bit in shock.

Issue 7: If the Graveyard Be My Destiny!

Issue 7 on YouTube

AP Report

(All credit to Dave for the comic-book-classic session titles.

This session was meant to introduce one of Ghost Girl’s issues and a sort-of nemesis; Ghostheart (one of the characters from the Masks Deck of Villains) whose main deal is obsessively keeping living people over THERE, and dead people over THERE, and NO TOUCHING NO TOUCHING NOT EVER.

Charlotte is all about connecting with people amongst both the living and dead (she’s playing the Outsider playbook, and filled with wonder at the modern world in which she now finds herself), so Ghostheart seemed almost a custom-written enemy for her.

Most of the session was a nighttime fight at GG’s home cemetery against Ghostheart and a couple of his summoned demonic henchthings – Rawhide and I-Didnt-Catch-the-Other-Guy’s-Name. After the fight (and some really stilted, useless, uncomfortable leadership, beautifully delivered by Dave), the heroes (reunited, since Link was tussling with Rawhide on his own, initially) tracked down and rescued the kidnappee “@powerpony” – an online-mutual of both Link and GG’s (PC-NPC-PC relationship triangles are good – need more of those).

Offscreen

The players conducted a couple Google-Doc-based scenes after this session, simply to get them done in satisfying fashion without taking up too much in-game time.

The first was Link talking with green-lantern/Blue-beetle-esque Concord about the details of the kid’s powers.

The second was between Link and Jason – an often tense but ultimately fruitful and relationship-building ‘discussion’ about what kind of leadership the team really needed (and what kind Jason could legitimately provide).

Both scenes were great, and the ‘offline’ RP option proved a good one, though we try not to use it too much, as it tends to move characters whose players have the mid-week bandwidth for such things further center stage, in a play environment (online, short sessions) where it already seems someone ends up drawing the Spotlight Short Straw every week.

Issue 8: Lo, There Shall Be an Evening of Character Interaction!

Issue 8 on YouTube

AP Report

As a means of exploring GG’s current Hook (her Mundane connections with others, versus the Freak nature of her powers), we also learned a bit more about why Ghostheart wanted GG out of public circulation – her interactions with the Living were creating some kind of ectoplasmic catnip that would inevitably attract a terrible entity known as Pandemonium to the material world.

The only way she could guarantee her living friends’ safety was stay away from them. Which sucks.

AEGIS rolled back into the picture much sooner than anyone expected, as the team called them back to take Ghostheart into custody. (The team opts NOT to go the morally-and logically-questionable route of the Flash CW show, with villains held without due process, inside a particle accelerator, and fed Big Belly Burgers on a… mostly daily schedule.)

The rest of the session involved the team either trying to help each other out with Comfort and Support-based roleplaying (with mixed but fascinating and sometimes hilarious results), or working through their own problems; Link’s robotic not-girlfriend Pneuma announced she was departing Halcyon for a bit to visit ‘someone’ in Japan, while Jason went down a digital rabbit hole, investigating how and why his nemesis Alycia Chin infiltrated Quill Compound as a lowly warehouse employee for a month.

Jason’s investigation led to a great scene where he uses his nanobots and latent genius to analyze Alycia Chin’s actions, and gets knocked cold in the process via some kind of latent … mental … something … Alycia left behind in the video recordings of her activities. Remote Memetic Programming, maybe? Image-gestalt boobytrap? That would be bad.

Issue 9: Sizzling Big Adult-Influence Issue!

The Beginning of the Day From Hell

Issue 9 on YouTube

AP Report

Morning! The second Weekday of the campaign, and time once again for all good heroes to… get to school.

(Assuming they aren’t a ghost from the civil war, or unconscious, of course.)

A while back, Concord’s player had started a discussion on the forum where we all talked about whether the Nova playbook was working for him, and we collectively came to the conclusion that the Janus playbook worked better. So we retconned it.

This session was the one where we started to get into that ‘dual identity’ drama a bit more, very literally in this case (because I am a ham-fisted hack) with Concord trying to help Link with an unconscious Jason (via an energy construct copy of himself) while simultaneously attending school in his ‘real’ body. He didn’t exactly balance this out well, and ended up being sent to the principal’s office when he confused his multiple mouths and remonstrated his English teacher for being a ‘walking deceit’ when he meant to be talking to the vision of Alycia Chin in Jason’s head.

I’d call this situation a solid B effort on my part. Maybe a B-. We get better at this in short order, though, so I’m not going to beat myself up too much.

Meanwhile, Mercury and Ghost Girl spent the morning reaching out to adults for advice and input, before Mercury had to get to school.

Harry’s dad-joking, eggplant-emoji-texting dad, Silver Streak.

This is always a fraught situation in Masks – going into a scene with an adult or adults in Masks carries an undercurrent of threat akin to an armed parley with A-level super-villains. Honestly I’ve never done as much broad-spectrum damage to the team with a bad guy as I have in scenes with their well-meaning mentors dispensing advice, constructive feedback, and (horror of horrors) heartfelt praise.

It didn’t really go better here, with both Harry’s dad and the retired ‘grail knight’ Armiger (Lucius, owner/operator of the Has Beans coffee shop, downtown) kicking in their two cents about Ghost Girl’s ongoing Ghostheart/Pandemonium problem, what they thought the kids should do about it (and, ultimately, who they thought the kids should be.) They got what they were after, but Ghost Girl at least wasn’t feeling great about it afterwards, which lead to some Condition-clearing reckless behavior later. (As it should.)

Issue 10: Halcyon High-Jinks (Hell Day, Part 2)

Issue 10 on Youtube

AP Report

Dave, Margie, and Katherine were all out of town, which left Jason recovering from his tussle with not-Alycia, Ghost Girl roaming the city doing reckless things without consulting the team, and Harry actually attending Gardner Academy (the private high school that tends to specialize in rich kids and publicly recognized supers).

Concord and Link, on the other hand, are on their way to HHS – Halcyon High South – part of the public school system, where they academically toil in relative anonymity.

Bill and Mike (and I) were excited to play around with that classic of teen superhero comics, the high school, so we had a good time with this. First order of business was to establish the normal day, and I had fun introducing some of the faculty, and went to the players to fill in NPCs (which gave us the wonderful Ms. “No!” Rodriguez, Leo’s lab partner.

I also introduced Taz, a new transfer and tech-nerd who seemed to either be a bit on the spectrum or way over-informed about Leo, or both. She showed up both in Leo’s chem class as well as at lunch with Leo and Adam, and was generally fun to play, freaked out the players a skosh, and has more going on that I’m looking forward to getting into.

With the norm established, it was time to get some Concord-grade villains on the stage, and that mean “galactic” villains. For this, I went back to the Deck of Villainy and pulled out The Farlander (who is just too weird looking and fun to play) and Sablestar who, by sheer coincidence in visual design, seemed to be … related to Concord and his powers in some way. There’s some vague hand-waving on her card about being a member of the Void Collective and something of a space-anarchist, but I already have an anarchist villain, so Sablestar and the VC became a kind of counter-(if not anti-)Concordance, in my head. We’ll see how that fleshes out over time.

So: a bit of fighting at the school with The Farlander, and the introduction of Sablestar, and as things get complicated we call it for the night, ready to bring in the rest of the team next session as things heat up.

That’s five of the ten sessions I wanted to cover, so I’ll stop here and do 11 to 15 in the next post. More soon!

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