Here we are. After a rough start and several great battles, this year's tournament comes to a glorious end with the two fittest competitors ready to go at it. Acradius, who had some trouble with punctuality much like a certain judge whose name is me but still put forth an extremely entertaining show that bodes ill for his competitor, and Metal Man, whose colossal posts full of intricate detail made his violent intentions and determination to take this thing home clear, will clash here, tonight, only on Pay-Per-View.
And it's totally free.
A quick rundown of the rules, and you're off.
1. This will be judged by three people and have sixteen combatants. All round battles are in ONE TOPIC. For example, “First Round” will be for the first set, “Second Round” for the second set, etc. This matches the most recent and also the most classic form for the NLBFT.
2. You should try to take this a bit more seriously than a typical battle. I won’t restrict who joins and who doesn’t, but use your brain, it's pretty easy to figure out if you're ready for this or not. This event typically attracts the best our forum has to offer, so if you're new, don't expect special treatment. But you probably knew that already, so on to the less snobby rules.
3. There is a strict time limit. I've reset this to 2 days before a full point is lost, and one more before you're up for either another deduction or possible elimination. I'll make exceptions where due, but we need to make this a little quicker than last few times around. Remember this, as it is standard, and complaints will only be considered if they are not simply whining. Also, reasons to have been absent are to be discussed by the judges as acceptable or not. If your computer explodes and you had no access to another, fine, but if you were too lazy to try, it's elimination.
4. The judge's word is final. I want to see good sportsmanship from the loser, and likewise from the winner.
5. The first to post has battlefield choice in their specific battle. Make it something interesting. That's all we ask of you here. :P
Battle rules:
The rules of engagement here follow the basic rules of the Gunjin. No transforming/switching characters, no healing, no cheapness/god-moding, etc. All violations, as viewed by the judges, will be considered for possible deduction of points.
THE BOUT:
Acradius vs. Metal Man
Judges:
Seat 1: t3hDarkness
Seat 2: Tazy
Seat 3: Saria Dragon
I'll give this one some extra time and let it end the Wednesday after next at around 4:00 PM as always.
Go forth and punish each other, like true gentlemen.
NLBFT 13: The Final Battle
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Galefore
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- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
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Metal Man
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- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
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Metal Man had been on the path for quite a while. He had traveled across time, ripped through dimensions, and unraveled dark secrets. Deep within his corroded soul, he felt that today would be the one. The wounds of the previous battle still stung. But his furious resolve drove him on. While beating up that Time Knight hadn't exonerated him, it had made him feel tough. Tough enough to fight something else... something closer to home. He felt more alive than he had been in years...
Today would be known for quite some time.
The Man of Steel flew down the interstellar subway corridors once again. He was no longer going to take their safe paths as an answer, however. He narrowed his brow and thrust his right arm into a wall of tile... and stopped right at a subway station. He thought to himself. What if... this place I have been told is fake is real? It just doesn't seem right... that this very physical-looking subway station would be all in my head. I've never even been to one beyond that one time...
And so, like an actor becoming aware of his stage, Metal Man reached out to that which he had been told did not exist. He climbed out of the tracks like a man climbing out of a pool. And what did he climb onto but an eternally frozen New York subway terminal? I was right... the Time Cops' statement about our travel medium is incorrect. He had been deceived all this time--what he was looking for had been right there all this time. The Time Cops had wanted him to stay as far away from here as possible. They had sent him and the other Time Cops warping through tunnels to dark places and getting injured in the hope they'd never realize the SOURCE of all the madness was sealed here. Sealed deep in this concrete labyrinth.
The smell of gravel dust filled the air as the Metal Man's boots crushed the weak concrete. He thrashed through the station like a fish out of water. He was told the truth by movie advertisements he found laying around. Casablanca and Jurassic Park, in theaters various years apart... yet both being advertised here? Time must be broken here! Just like... HQ? Newspapers drifting about commented on various events... like time itself was meaningless. One of them even boasted that it was 'The only Newspapere Withe Alle The Wars' in it. Metal Man picked it up and stared at the cold numbers on it in disbelief. What sort of sadist would try to find every war ever and compare them like this? He shook his head, tossing the newspaper away.
"How could I have missed all of this? ...Those Time Cops used me like a train. And I let them!"
He growled angrily. It was a guttural metallic noise, the sort a coffee grinder might make. Then he shoved a gray phone booth into the tracks. It, on the other hand, made a glass shattering noise--one Metal Man found very satisfying.
As the broken pieces of telephone booth glass rained on the subway tracks, Metal Man stalked through the waiting platform. He looked up at the signs hanging from the roof. As if the rest of this wasn't enough, these green signs with white lettering constantly changed their names. One minute, the terminal was to Alaska; the next it was to New Mexico; the next it was to Kanto, and then it was to Spira. The Man of Steel hissed. He had enough of this surreal behavior! He took out his silver pistol.
"THIS is what has been eluding me all this time! Only the Time Cops would live in such a messed up place. I'm on to you... I'm on to you, annoying subway sign!"
The Man shot one of the topsy-turvy signs off the ceiling. It fell to the ground with a loud crash. Metal Man stood still for a moment, listening to the crash echo down the subway. Then he picked the fallen sign up. Sure enough, it continued working--and his wrist device detected Time Cop magic. Damn you, Time Cops! Can't you make normal signs? He hurled the sign away angrily. It hit the wall and took some of its white tiles with it. Metal Man, meanwhile, looked for an exit--and found one quickly, as there was a door which led to, presumably, the Time Cops' headquarters. He grabbed the unassuming brass knob.
"You're going to get it now, Time Cops! No more games! Your subway station can't hide you from ME!"
He turned the knob with all his strength! ...And the knob fell off. Metal Man cursed under his breath and chucked the knob away. I knew it! They'd never make it that easy... He banged on the door. WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM. But... all that did was smash away the painted tiles which made up the fake door. And behind that was... nothing but those annoying white tiles. The cyborg trembled in anger for a moment, before then kicking the wall apart.
The tile dust filled the air, as Metal Man breathed hoarsely. All that smashing had been for nothing--there was only more wall behind all of that. Metal's powder-caked fists fell to his side limply. He scanned the area with his visor, but all he found were wildly mismatched emblems of civilization past and present. They've got a tighter ship than I thought. Now how am I going to find them...
Crackling elevator music came on for no reason whatsoever, and began to echo dissonantly through the abandoned stone halls of the subway. Metal Man wandered like a furious hobo, upturning garbage cans that held nothing and rifling through phonebooks filled with mismatched gibberish. He could find nothing. Perhaps this is the story of my life. Everything I try comes to nothing... but... I will not give up.
He sat on a steel bench, bending its spindly supports with his tonnage. He looked at his pistol, and sighed. It has been a long way to find this place, but it seems like there's nothing here. The Time Cops wouldn't just ignore their best chance to catch me... would they? Or am I not as important as I think I am? ...
He felt as if there was nothing to do; feeling rash, he glanced at the pistol. He almost went to do something when...
A sudden noise echoed down the hall of gray.
"..." He stood up. "Who goes there?" He swung the pistol away from his face and towards the noise. Well, at least there's one thing there. Maybe if I'm lucky it'll be the last of them. Or the first of something new. He shook his head and walked down into the first terminal he had climbed into earlier.
Today would be known for quite some time.
Today would be known for quite some time.
The Man of Steel flew down the interstellar subway corridors once again. He was no longer going to take their safe paths as an answer, however. He narrowed his brow and thrust his right arm into a wall of tile... and stopped right at a subway station. He thought to himself. What if... this place I have been told is fake is real? It just doesn't seem right... that this very physical-looking subway station would be all in my head. I've never even been to one beyond that one time...
And so, like an actor becoming aware of his stage, Metal Man reached out to that which he had been told did not exist. He climbed out of the tracks like a man climbing out of a pool. And what did he climb onto but an eternally frozen New York subway terminal? I was right... the Time Cops' statement about our travel medium is incorrect. He had been deceived all this time--what he was looking for had been right there all this time. The Time Cops had wanted him to stay as far away from here as possible. They had sent him and the other Time Cops warping through tunnels to dark places and getting injured in the hope they'd never realize the SOURCE of all the madness was sealed here. Sealed deep in this concrete labyrinth.
The smell of gravel dust filled the air as the Metal Man's boots crushed the weak concrete. He thrashed through the station like a fish out of water. He was told the truth by movie advertisements he found laying around. Casablanca and Jurassic Park, in theaters various years apart... yet both being advertised here? Time must be broken here! Just like... HQ? Newspapers drifting about commented on various events... like time itself was meaningless. One of them even boasted that it was 'The only Newspapere Withe Alle The Wars' in it. Metal Man picked it up and stared at the cold numbers on it in disbelief. What sort of sadist would try to find every war ever and compare them like this? He shook his head, tossing the newspaper away.
"How could I have missed all of this? ...Those Time Cops used me like a train. And I let them!"
He growled angrily. It was a guttural metallic noise, the sort a coffee grinder might make. Then he shoved a gray phone booth into the tracks. It, on the other hand, made a glass shattering noise--one Metal Man found very satisfying.
As the broken pieces of telephone booth glass rained on the subway tracks, Metal Man stalked through the waiting platform. He looked up at the signs hanging from the roof. As if the rest of this wasn't enough, these green signs with white lettering constantly changed their names. One minute, the terminal was to Alaska; the next it was to New Mexico; the next it was to Kanto, and then it was to Spira. The Man of Steel hissed. He had enough of this surreal behavior! He took out his silver pistol.
"THIS is what has been eluding me all this time! Only the Time Cops would live in such a messed up place. I'm on to you... I'm on to you, annoying subway sign!"
The Man shot one of the topsy-turvy signs off the ceiling. It fell to the ground with a loud crash. Metal Man stood still for a moment, listening to the crash echo down the subway. Then he picked the fallen sign up. Sure enough, it continued working--and his wrist device detected Time Cop magic. Damn you, Time Cops! Can't you make normal signs? He hurled the sign away angrily. It hit the wall and took some of its white tiles with it. Metal Man, meanwhile, looked for an exit--and found one quickly, as there was a door which led to, presumably, the Time Cops' headquarters. He grabbed the unassuming brass knob.
"You're going to get it now, Time Cops! No more games! Your subway station can't hide you from ME!"
He turned the knob with all his strength! ...And the knob fell off. Metal Man cursed under his breath and chucked the knob away. I knew it! They'd never make it that easy... He banged on the door. WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM. But... all that did was smash away the painted tiles which made up the fake door. And behind that was... nothing but those annoying white tiles. The cyborg trembled in anger for a moment, before then kicking the wall apart.
The tile dust filled the air, as Metal Man breathed hoarsely. All that smashing had been for nothing--there was only more wall behind all of that. Metal's powder-caked fists fell to his side limply. He scanned the area with his visor, but all he found were wildly mismatched emblems of civilization past and present. They've got a tighter ship than I thought. Now how am I going to find them...
Crackling elevator music came on for no reason whatsoever, and began to echo dissonantly through the abandoned stone halls of the subway. Metal Man wandered like a furious hobo, upturning garbage cans that held nothing and rifling through phonebooks filled with mismatched gibberish. He could find nothing. Perhaps this is the story of my life. Everything I try comes to nothing... but... I will not give up.
He sat on a steel bench, bending its spindly supports with his tonnage. He looked at his pistol, and sighed. It has been a long way to find this place, but it seems like there's nothing here. The Time Cops wouldn't just ignore their best chance to catch me... would they? Or am I not as important as I think I am? ...
He felt as if there was nothing to do; feeling rash, he glanced at the pistol. He almost went to do something when...
A sudden noise echoed down the hall of gray.
"..." He stood up. "Who goes there?" He swung the pistol away from his face and towards the noise. Well, at least there's one thing there. Maybe if I'm lucky it'll be the last of them. Or the first of something new. He shook his head and walked down into the first terminal he had climbed into earlier.
Today would be known for quite some time.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Acradius
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- Posts: 963
- Joined: Sat Feb 24, 2001 2:00 am
- Location: Where Time, Space and Reality fade, and there is l
- Contact:
The place was like something out of a nightmare. Subway rails, corroded and festering in the dirt, were strewn about like the web of a hideous, tunneling spider. Like in any large city, there was the unmistakable stench of decay. Most people mistook it for the alcohol on the breath of a drunken and desperate man, or the stink of illicit drugs filling the air. Sometimes it smelled like garbage, sometimes it smelled like sewage, sometimes it smelled like a corpse. Make no mistake. It was all decay. Decay of society. Only in this place, it wasn't a single society that was being affected. It was all of time itself.
Acradius regarded the situation as coolly as he could, considering what the entire place meant to him. It was obvious by the grimace on his usually smiling face that 'cool' wasn't in large supply. First of all, whoever owned this perverted network of tubes must have been either completely unaware of the corruption they were spreading, or doing it on purpose. Energies, both positive and negative were generally bound to the universe they originated in. By providing a permanent system for them to flow between, unnatural effects would begin to occur for apparently no reason in other places. The phrase 'Evil like that which the world has never seen before' could be taken literally, as an entire planet was put to the torch in one universe, their pain and screams drift down these tunnels and spawn a horrific dictator in another. Of course, it could go both ways, such as the laugh of a newborn child triggering the birth of a fey spirit. But make no mistake: there is far more negative energy in any given universe than positive.
Which is exactly where this particular Time Warrior came in. Fighting a one-man war on tragedy and righting every wrong he encountered, it seemed that finally he had an explanation for some things. This was not a source of wrongs, but it was certainly an effective method to cause more. And lo and behold, as the blond man stalked down the corridors, he saw the ones to blame. It was a poster stuck haphazardly to the wall. Anachronistic in nature, it featured a man in armor not too dissimilar from his own half-plate charging down the center. To his right, he was flanked by an obvious cyborg warrior, guns blazing. On his left was a picturesque female in black leather, energy glowing from a rune she had just formed. Beneath the trio, in as fancy of a font as could still be readable at a glance, was a simple message. JOIN THE TIME COPS TODAY!
Time Cops? Interesting. In all my travels through time and space, I've never encountered one. Hell, I've never even heard of one. Maybe they're defunct. It was certainly a possibility, but a doubtful one. With any sort of time travel, it's extremely easy to make sure you keep existing, no matter how much time has passed. Setting his jaw, the Time Warrior picked his pace up from a brooding stalk to a determined march. He would find the perpetrator of this crime to the universe, this antithesis of what he stood for, and he would set them straight one way or another. But first, he had to find a door out of these tunnels. And that meant finding a map. The fluorescent lights of another station flickered ahead. Perhaps that was where his answer lie...
"Who's there?"
The voice that echoed down the tunnel sounded synthesized and metallic. Acradius Journeyman's grimace turned into a full-blown snarl. Damn sentries. His eyes glowed white as he put up a kinetic barrier around him with his psionics. Most sentry units used projectile weapons, which shouldn't be too much trouble when their bullets stopped in midair. He marched straight into the light of the station, looking like a furious angel. His blond hair framed his angered face and his armor reflected what poor lighting there was in this wretched place. He saw the source of the voice: a large, humanoid metal figure, brandishing a gun. Usually these things were part defense, part assistance. Acradius addressed it directly. "How do I get to the Time Cops' headquarters?"
Acradius regarded the situation as coolly as he could, considering what the entire place meant to him. It was obvious by the grimace on his usually smiling face that 'cool' wasn't in large supply. First of all, whoever owned this perverted network of tubes must have been either completely unaware of the corruption they were spreading, or doing it on purpose. Energies, both positive and negative were generally bound to the universe they originated in. By providing a permanent system for them to flow between, unnatural effects would begin to occur for apparently no reason in other places. The phrase 'Evil like that which the world has never seen before' could be taken literally, as an entire planet was put to the torch in one universe, their pain and screams drift down these tunnels and spawn a horrific dictator in another. Of course, it could go both ways, such as the laugh of a newborn child triggering the birth of a fey spirit. But make no mistake: there is far more negative energy in any given universe than positive.
Which is exactly where this particular Time Warrior came in. Fighting a one-man war on tragedy and righting every wrong he encountered, it seemed that finally he had an explanation for some things. This was not a source of wrongs, but it was certainly an effective method to cause more. And lo and behold, as the blond man stalked down the corridors, he saw the ones to blame. It was a poster stuck haphazardly to the wall. Anachronistic in nature, it featured a man in armor not too dissimilar from his own half-plate charging down the center. To his right, he was flanked by an obvious cyborg warrior, guns blazing. On his left was a picturesque female in black leather, energy glowing from a rune she had just formed. Beneath the trio, in as fancy of a font as could still be readable at a glance, was a simple message. JOIN THE TIME COPS TODAY!
Time Cops? Interesting. In all my travels through time and space, I've never encountered one. Hell, I've never even heard of one. Maybe they're defunct. It was certainly a possibility, but a doubtful one. With any sort of time travel, it's extremely easy to make sure you keep existing, no matter how much time has passed. Setting his jaw, the Time Warrior picked his pace up from a brooding stalk to a determined march. He would find the perpetrator of this crime to the universe, this antithesis of what he stood for, and he would set them straight one way or another. But first, he had to find a door out of these tunnels. And that meant finding a map. The fluorescent lights of another station flickered ahead. Perhaps that was where his answer lie...
"Who's there?"
The voice that echoed down the tunnel sounded synthesized and metallic. Acradius Journeyman's grimace turned into a full-blown snarl. Damn sentries. His eyes glowed white as he put up a kinetic barrier around him with his psionics. Most sentry units used projectile weapons, which shouldn't be too much trouble when their bullets stopped in midair. He marched straight into the light of the station, looking like a furious angel. His blond hair framed his angered face and his armor reflected what poor lighting there was in this wretched place. He saw the source of the voice: a large, humanoid metal figure, brandishing a gun. Usually these things were part defense, part assistance. Acradius addressed it directly. "How do I get to the Time Cops' headquarters?"
Chaos reigns within. Reflect, repent, and reboot. Order shall return. ~Windows, in Haiku format
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Metal Man
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- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
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The query was answered by an impatient, metallic voice. The voice spoke harshly, throwing out words as if they were bullets. "Don't play around with me. If I knew already I'd be there already! It's clear they've hidden their entrance in this mess... but I'm not just going to tell you, a stranger what I know. You're just in the way. Back off... or be killed!"
Of course, one did not just tell Acradius Journeyman to back off. He stood right there, confident in his barrier. But the one who gave the warning didn't care. With that, a melodic pattern of metal clanking noises announced the coming of Acradius' new foe--Metal Man. The lights reflected haphazardly off of his smooth plate armor, not much unlike the Journeyman's own. Held in his hand was a Soviet TT33--a silver anachronism of a pistol. His visor was the color of coldness. Behind him fluttered a blue cape. With a wordless hatred gracing his face, he raised his right hand and pointed the gun at Acradius' neck with one practiced motion.
Acradius stood there. A moment passed... then Metal Man fired the gun. The sound echoed down the tunnels... but the bullet thudded off the barrier. Metal Man glared at the broken projectile through his visor. He tried to determine exactly what had blocked it. But despite the high-tech HUD and incessant blue lines explaining to him what had just happened, it didn't make any sense to him. Nobody can do that... nobody. I haven't seen that before... this can't be! He hesitated for a second, then spat some more words so as to mask the slight twinge of fear this event brought him. "You can't hide behind barriers like that forever! I've crushed a thousand times worse!"
Of course, he never had to do that next to the headquarters of his worst enemies. Let alone against a psionic. But he soldiered on. His brow furrowed. He thought of a new plan as fast as he could. Of course, Acradius wouldn't just stand there; he had something in mind as well. I can't let this obstacle get in my way... but I can't shoot it... ...time for Plan B.
As the pitiless florescent lights reflected off of Metal's shiny exterior, Acradius went to make his move. He walked towards Metal Man, having not yet spoken. Perhaps he had come to aid Metal Man? Or perhaps... they had shared agendas? ...But Metal Man wasn't going to give him that chance. He got into another fighting stance. "Fine... block THIS!"
Without warning, the Man of Steel hurled all his mass into the tiled wall to his left. With a resplendent smash and a hideous scraping noise, he went through the tile and concrete like it was never there. Acradius braced himself as the lights flickered and the ground flickered--but that violent act was not the end of this. No, his foe was the Metal Man, the crazy-as-f#$% madman! The air filled with choking concrete dust. Indescribable crashing and grinding noises echoed from the walls and ceiling. Acradius could pick out a pattern--it was much like a sentient chainsaw was ripping out the plumbing...
But he got no time to think. The ceiling abruptly fissured above the Journeyman. Acradius lurched out of the way--and just in time, too. For a single metallic snap punctuated the moment... and hundreds of thousands of gallons of water issued forth from the ceiling. The mass of water biblically flooded the terminal, causing the subway tracks to go underwater and sending phone booths a-floating. The ceiling cracks then began to chase Acradius--with each step Metal took, more and more pipes and water flew at the Journeyman
The Journeyman hurried away expediently as bits of concrete and pieces of pipe assailed his barrier. But as he neared the exit of one terminal, he heard the smashing stop. Perhaps the Man of Steel had become trapped up in the ceiling? Well, he was just a sentry after all. Perhaps he had stupidly drowned himself or run out of pipes to break. Or maybe he had given up on this plan--for Acradius was a smart one, and had avoided much of the calamity.
But then he heard the most earth shattering noise of them all--a heavy metallic object, falling through a massive electrical conduit and three large slabs of concrete. SMASHSMASHSMASHSMASHSMASH! He had no time to react--for he saw above him Metal Man, clutching a massive electrical wire. And behind the self-destructive maniac was an even larger tide... and the slabs of concrete. A symphony of busted metal pipes lay in wait behind.
The bearer of the barrier was smashed from above--not by God's might, but by a metallic freak. All 1.3 tons of Metal Man, followed by thousands of gallons of electrified water, followed by three massive concrete blocks, followed by a variety of sharp and electrified pipes, all came smashing down directly on top of the psionic field. Through the storm, a deathly growl pierced...
"HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?!?" *SMASHSMASHSLAMSLAMSLAM*
Of course, one did not just tell Acradius Journeyman to back off. He stood right there, confident in his barrier. But the one who gave the warning didn't care. With that, a melodic pattern of metal clanking noises announced the coming of Acradius' new foe--Metal Man. The lights reflected haphazardly off of his smooth plate armor, not much unlike the Journeyman's own. Held in his hand was a Soviet TT33--a silver anachronism of a pistol. His visor was the color of coldness. Behind him fluttered a blue cape. With a wordless hatred gracing his face, he raised his right hand and pointed the gun at Acradius' neck with one practiced motion.
Acradius stood there. A moment passed... then Metal Man fired the gun. The sound echoed down the tunnels... but the bullet thudded off the barrier. Metal Man glared at the broken projectile through his visor. He tried to determine exactly what had blocked it. But despite the high-tech HUD and incessant blue lines explaining to him what had just happened, it didn't make any sense to him. Nobody can do that... nobody. I haven't seen that before... this can't be! He hesitated for a second, then spat some more words so as to mask the slight twinge of fear this event brought him. "You can't hide behind barriers like that forever! I've crushed a thousand times worse!"
Of course, he never had to do that next to the headquarters of his worst enemies. Let alone against a psionic. But he soldiered on. His brow furrowed. He thought of a new plan as fast as he could. Of course, Acradius wouldn't just stand there; he had something in mind as well. I can't let this obstacle get in my way... but I can't shoot it... ...time for Plan B.
As the pitiless florescent lights reflected off of Metal's shiny exterior, Acradius went to make his move. He walked towards Metal Man, having not yet spoken. Perhaps he had come to aid Metal Man? Or perhaps... they had shared agendas? ...But Metal Man wasn't going to give him that chance. He got into another fighting stance. "Fine... block THIS!"
Without warning, the Man of Steel hurled all his mass into the tiled wall to his left. With a resplendent smash and a hideous scraping noise, he went through the tile and concrete like it was never there. Acradius braced himself as the lights flickered and the ground flickered--but that violent act was not the end of this. No, his foe was the Metal Man, the crazy-as-f#$% madman! The air filled with choking concrete dust. Indescribable crashing and grinding noises echoed from the walls and ceiling. Acradius could pick out a pattern--it was much like a sentient chainsaw was ripping out the plumbing...
But he got no time to think. The ceiling abruptly fissured above the Journeyman. Acradius lurched out of the way--and just in time, too. For a single metallic snap punctuated the moment... and hundreds of thousands of gallons of water issued forth from the ceiling. The mass of water biblically flooded the terminal, causing the subway tracks to go underwater and sending phone booths a-floating. The ceiling cracks then began to chase Acradius--with each step Metal took, more and more pipes and water flew at the Journeyman
The Journeyman hurried away expediently as bits of concrete and pieces of pipe assailed his barrier. But as he neared the exit of one terminal, he heard the smashing stop. Perhaps the Man of Steel had become trapped up in the ceiling? Well, he was just a sentry after all. Perhaps he had stupidly drowned himself or run out of pipes to break. Or maybe he had given up on this plan--for Acradius was a smart one, and had avoided much of the calamity.
But then he heard the most earth shattering noise of them all--a heavy metallic object, falling through a massive electrical conduit and three large slabs of concrete. SMASHSMASHSMASHSMASHSMASH! He had no time to react--for he saw above him Metal Man, clutching a massive electrical wire. And behind the self-destructive maniac was an even larger tide... and the slabs of concrete. A symphony of busted metal pipes lay in wait behind.
The bearer of the barrier was smashed from above--not by God's might, but by a metallic freak. All 1.3 tons of Metal Man, followed by thousands of gallons of electrified water, followed by three massive concrete blocks, followed by a variety of sharp and electrified pipes, all came smashing down directly on top of the psionic field. Through the storm, a deathly growl pierced...
"HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?!?" *SMASHSMASHSLAMSLAMSLAM*
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Acradius
- Member
- Posts: 963
- Joined: Sat Feb 24, 2001 2:00 am
- Location: Where Time, Space and Reality fade, and there is l
- Contact:
The Time Warrior had walked into this room angry, but at least calm and in control. That was not how he was to exit it. Were he not shocked (or at the very least, very impressed) at the sheer amount of devastation caused by the metal, raging, humanoid wrecking ball, he might have said something cool. Suave and unflappable was the nature of Acradius, and it took quite a bit to shake him out of that. Upon reflection, he would have liked to say something along the lines of "Note to self: not a sentry." Instead, what escaped his lips was a quite confused-sounding "Eep?"
And then it hit him. Well, his psionic barrier at least. All craptons of city under-workings slammed into it like a lifetime's worth of unpaid utility bills. The only thing merciful about it was that his robotic adversary had punctured a line of fresh water, and not the sewer system. The barrier wouldn't hold under that kind of assault, so the Time Warrior used it in a different way. Concentrating, Acradius purposely created a weak point at the rear of the barrier, farthest away from the cement and pipes and water. Under the pressure, the weak point buckled first, expelling all the contents of the bubble in that direction. Like the core of a giant zit on the face of some poor fifteen-year-old kid running the fryer at a fast food joint, the blond man was ejected out of harm's way.
Unfortunately, it was a case of 'out of the frying pan, onto the third rail.' While preventing himself from being crushed, his little maneuver left him bereft of another benefit of his barrier: protection from the elements. The electricity from the wires that Metal Man had dragged along with him leaped from the water to his armor to his bare skin. He went limp, jerking and convulsing as the current washed him along. Were he aware of it, bits of his skin and hair began to smoke as the flesh cooked. It was clear that his body wasn't going to help him on this one.
In these such instances, Acradius called upon one of his more risky techniques. Usually he reserved it for true emergencies, but he felt this one qualified. Whoever these 'Time Cops' were, they probably had an advanced power source that could continue dumping kilowatts into the water and barely notice. And from the looks of things, there was nobody around to hit the off button. More likely than not, the blond man would be caught in the current with the current for long enough to be fatal. And so, he did what he had to.
With an immense psionic effort, the Time Warrior forced his own consciousness outside of his body. He gave himself an out-of-body experience. It was disorienting, but freeing at the same time. In this state, he could crank his mental prowess through the roof without worrying about taxing his body too hard. The downside was that he had a very limited amount of time to do so, and once he settled back into his physical form, he would seriously suffer the consequences. Right now though, as he looked down at himself floating and twitching, it was more important to get out of this water. Perhaps a little payback was in order too...
The liquid stopped dead, as his body floated in midair a few feet before gently being laid to the side. The now-grimy water began piling upon itself as though it had hit a wall. That's exactly what happened. It hit a wall of intensely focused willpower. It only took a few moments for the entire tunnel to fill up behind the psionic cap. Although he had no physical form at the moment, Acradius would have certainly smirked his trademark overconfident smile as he gave one enormous shove.
Metal Man barely noticed what had happened to the water. He was busy dealing with wreckage and electricity himself. As he got to his feet, cracking the cement anew, however, something strange caught his attention. One of the few phone booths that was not carried away began behaving very strangely. CRICK. A pane of glass suddenly developed a spiderweb of cracks on it. CRIII-EEK. Another, larger one. There was no particular reason for this. Nothing had hit it. CRAAAAAK. The glass encasing an advertisement for the middle ages cracked in half. That's when he heard the rumbling.
As Metal Man turned towards the tunnel his opponent had vanished down, he saw the source of the cracks. It was pressure. Air pressure coming from a tunnel full of water being forced back the way it came. The torrent blasted him with the force of a retarded freight train, smashing him clean through the corner of the tunnel itself, and dragging him, swirling and careening down the tunnel. He would have gone for miles had he not encountered an obstacle: the wreckage of a turn-of-the-century subway car. It crumpled under his mass, but otherwise held him in place as the hydraulic pressure stripped the very paint off the sides of the tunnels.
The Time Warrior coughed and sputtered as his eyes opened. Ooooooffff. I think I hurt my everything. Returning to your body after something like that was never a pleasant experience. It was like you were blissfully unaware of everything for a short time, and then all of a sudden you remembered that yes, you could in fact feel air molecules impacting your skin. And they stung like hell. Not to mention all that acid in your stomach, or that blood rushing through your veins. All the motion of the human body just living was an exercise in soreness. And that's not even including jumping back into a body that had just been cooked with high-voltage power lines. Weakly, Acradius drew the Quantum and used it to stand up. He got his footing, and clamored up onto the walkway that was on either side of the tunnel. Not a moment too soon either, as the water came rushing by, a dirty brown electric river at this point. He gave a faint, half-smirk, half-grimace. Whoever these Time Cops were, they were going to be pretty steamed at what these two were doing to their city's infrastructure.
Shouldering his sword, he tried to work the kinks and stiffness out of his joints as he stumbled back to the subway station. Was his opponent dead from just that? No way. Deep down, he knew this was just getting started.
And then it hit him. Well, his psionic barrier at least. All craptons of city under-workings slammed into it like a lifetime's worth of unpaid utility bills. The only thing merciful about it was that his robotic adversary had punctured a line of fresh water, and not the sewer system. The barrier wouldn't hold under that kind of assault, so the Time Warrior used it in a different way. Concentrating, Acradius purposely created a weak point at the rear of the barrier, farthest away from the cement and pipes and water. Under the pressure, the weak point buckled first, expelling all the contents of the bubble in that direction. Like the core of a giant zit on the face of some poor fifteen-year-old kid running the fryer at a fast food joint, the blond man was ejected out of harm's way.
Unfortunately, it was a case of 'out of the frying pan, onto the third rail.' While preventing himself from being crushed, his little maneuver left him bereft of another benefit of his barrier: protection from the elements. The electricity from the wires that Metal Man had dragged along with him leaped from the water to his armor to his bare skin. He went limp, jerking and convulsing as the current washed him along. Were he aware of it, bits of his skin and hair began to smoke as the flesh cooked. It was clear that his body wasn't going to help him on this one.
In these such instances, Acradius called upon one of his more risky techniques. Usually he reserved it for true emergencies, but he felt this one qualified. Whoever these 'Time Cops' were, they probably had an advanced power source that could continue dumping kilowatts into the water and barely notice. And from the looks of things, there was nobody around to hit the off button. More likely than not, the blond man would be caught in the current with the current for long enough to be fatal. And so, he did what he had to.
With an immense psionic effort, the Time Warrior forced his own consciousness outside of his body. He gave himself an out-of-body experience. It was disorienting, but freeing at the same time. In this state, he could crank his mental prowess through the roof without worrying about taxing his body too hard. The downside was that he had a very limited amount of time to do so, and once he settled back into his physical form, he would seriously suffer the consequences. Right now though, as he looked down at himself floating and twitching, it was more important to get out of this water. Perhaps a little payback was in order too...
The liquid stopped dead, as his body floated in midair a few feet before gently being laid to the side. The now-grimy water began piling upon itself as though it had hit a wall. That's exactly what happened. It hit a wall of intensely focused willpower. It only took a few moments for the entire tunnel to fill up behind the psionic cap. Although he had no physical form at the moment, Acradius would have certainly smirked his trademark overconfident smile as he gave one enormous shove.
Metal Man barely noticed what had happened to the water. He was busy dealing with wreckage and electricity himself. As he got to his feet, cracking the cement anew, however, something strange caught his attention. One of the few phone booths that was not carried away began behaving very strangely. CRICK. A pane of glass suddenly developed a spiderweb of cracks on it. CRIII-EEK. Another, larger one. There was no particular reason for this. Nothing had hit it. CRAAAAAK. The glass encasing an advertisement for the middle ages cracked in half. That's when he heard the rumbling.
As Metal Man turned towards the tunnel his opponent had vanished down, he saw the source of the cracks. It was pressure. Air pressure coming from a tunnel full of water being forced back the way it came. The torrent blasted him with the force of a retarded freight train, smashing him clean through the corner of the tunnel itself, and dragging him, swirling and careening down the tunnel. He would have gone for miles had he not encountered an obstacle: the wreckage of a turn-of-the-century subway car. It crumpled under his mass, but otherwise held him in place as the hydraulic pressure stripped the very paint off the sides of the tunnels.
The Time Warrior coughed and sputtered as his eyes opened. Ooooooffff. I think I hurt my everything. Returning to your body after something like that was never a pleasant experience. It was like you were blissfully unaware of everything for a short time, and then all of a sudden you remembered that yes, you could in fact feel air molecules impacting your skin. And they stung like hell. Not to mention all that acid in your stomach, or that blood rushing through your veins. All the motion of the human body just living was an exercise in soreness. And that's not even including jumping back into a body that had just been cooked with high-voltage power lines. Weakly, Acradius drew the Quantum and used it to stand up. He got his footing, and clamored up onto the walkway that was on either side of the tunnel. Not a moment too soon either, as the water came rushing by, a dirty brown electric river at this point. He gave a faint, half-smirk, half-grimace. Whoever these Time Cops were, they were going to be pretty steamed at what these two were doing to their city's infrastructure.
Shouldering his sword, he tried to work the kinks and stiffness out of his joints as he stumbled back to the subway station. Was his opponent dead from just that? No way. Deep down, he knew this was just getting started.
Chaos reigns within. Reflect, repent, and reboot. Order shall return. ~Windows, in Haiku format
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Metal Man
- Member
- Posts: 17964
- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
- Contact:
OOC: Posting soon, sorry for the slowness. A few hours, says I.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
-
Metal Man
- Member
- Posts: 17964
- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
- Contact:
The filthy bilge-water flowed over the forlorn subway car. In the sea of darkness there was light--light of electricity flowing through the water. Surely, Metal Man had been fried to a crisp. Surely, this could not continue.
The Journeyman would notice a movement under the water, as a pile of piping and wires near the Metal Man's last position began to shift. He braced himself... but there would be no combat stance that could shield him from what was about to happen.
The ground shook; Metal Man had taken out quite a bit of infrastructure. A metal hand burst out of the water, clutching angrily at the air... ..then another. As the water slowly drained, and the electricity was cut to the wires, a macabre scene unveiled itself to Acradius.
It resembled a metal piping golem; deep underneath many old bronze pipes was Metal Man, bleeding, shuddering, and hissing with steam. He felt the coldness of the water, the tingling of the electrical damage, and the burning of how he had almost lost life support while underwater. Shaking with pain and angry, the diabolical wretch of a man lurched towards the Journeyman.
But the Journeyman was wise; not wanting to once again be bushwhacked, he channeled a tiny bolt of psionic power into the loose concrete above Metal Man. *SMASH!* ...The concrete landed, dislodging some pipes from him, but he kept on coming. He was close enough for Acradius to see his murderous eyes... and his ludicrous grin.
The Journeyman backed away, and pitched a red English Phone Booth into Metal Man. *SMASH!* ...He kept on coming, walking through through the phone booth. A trail of red fluid followed the Man of Steel in his wake, as he silently opened a panel at his lower right leg.
Acradius trembled at the thought of such a maniacal killing machine. Using far more of his energy, he would shove everything he could pick up at him. Posters, marquees, signs, benches, snack vendors... the colorful, mismatched plague of anachronisms skidded across the floor and smacked Metal Man, one by one. But the orchestra of smashing noises that followed indicated his telekinesis couldn't save him from this.
The Silver Sadist whipped out his custom-built Elephant rifle. Made to kill prey ten times larger than Journeyman with one or two shots, it was definitely overkill. Although many would find its presence to be an anachronism, Metal Man would be quick to remind them... that killing power doesn't necessarily increase every time weapons technology is improved.
Metal Man aimed the unwieldy weapon at Acradius, who leaped into another terminal. The once solid concrete corner of the wall he hit behind was blasted asunder by one of Metal Man's infernal shells. Despite being waist-deep in rushing water and bleeding a trail a mile long, the Man of Steel would not stop until he had gotten rid of this... obstacle.
Acradius kept on running; there was little he could do against this seemingly unstoppable mad man. At least, while he had the cover of the subway tracks and that huge gun. He ran inside a ticket window, only to hear a loud *BAM!* and then have glass rain upon him. Another small explosion occurred, as a slug blasted away the door to the ticket booth. He peeked from a safer corner and saw the Man of Steel had foolishly come up onto the terminal to shoot at him; although he was still plated in steel and stuck full of pipes, he was a far easier target to hit.
Though to his horror, he saw the Man of Steel had attached an auto-loader from his suit onto the gun, and that earlier damage had not disabled it; leaving him unprepared for the unanticipated reflex shot Metal Man made when his sensors detected just one of Acradius' hairs. Acradius fell back, ringing in his ears, as the neat white tiles of the ever-so-clean 1970's subway terminal became bloodstained. Smoke rose from the wound, as Metal Man closed in for the kill.
But as he aimed to end it all, Acradius had finally gotten into range to try his trick. While he had just had a portion of his scalp nearly blown off, he wasn't going to let a medieval weapon slay him. He flicked a finger and bent Metal Man's boomstick at the worst moment. Before Metal Man could say anything, the whole apparatus exploded from his attempt to fire it while it was bent.
*BLAMMMMMM*
They were both on the floor now, blackened by soot and with many pieces of shell in their shoulders and faces. Metal Man's visor had cracked and one of his fake teeth now sported a nice chunk of lead pierced through it. He coughed, then chuckled wryly. "You've got a lot of spirit in ya." He slowly climbed up, while Acradius prepared a counter attack. "This isn't going to be a boring fight after all, eh?"
A foreign voice called from the other side of the booth.
"Oh, if it isn't the Metal Blunder himself. Coming again to get himself killed."
There was the English coachman, dressed in black, looking saggy and old. Metal Man was so infuriated by his sudden reappearance he hurled a conveniently located 1910 cash register at his head. It sailed through the air, only to ricochet off of the old man's invincibility field. *CH-BONK!* He cackled like an old witch. "Ha ha ha ha... that never gets old, does it?"
Acradius would stare, walking aside for a moment... just to process the unmitigated weirdness which had occurred. To him... this was just a man attacking another old man... for no flipping reason whatsoever! ...Meanwhile, Metal Man locked eyes with the Coachman, taking out his silver pistols from earlier and uselessly shooting at the old freak.
The man walked casually towards Metal Man, as bullet after bullet bounced right off his forehead like it was rubber. "Now now, you have a guest here! Even if you could harm me... it would be rude to ignore them just to fight little old me." He sat atop one of the 1980's turnstiles near the entry to the station. Behind him, blurry sunlight filtered in, almost as if there wasn't an actual surface to this planet, but an illusion. As Metal Man shook his fist, the man looked at Acradius. "Oh, don't worry little old me. But just know there's a bonus if you kill this little old bitty of metal here. He's... quite the pain in the socket, is he not?"
While Acradius had chosen to ignore him originally, the creepy intuition he had snapped him to attention. As he had just gotten a wound to one of his arm sockets... and it wasn't obvious. Especially not to a weird old man with thick glasses.
Metal Man, meanwhile, continued to deteriorate into insanity and madness. He ripped a lamp out of the wall and smashed it uselessly over the coachman's head, then began ripping up floor tiles and flinging them like boomerangs. Acradius watched in disbelief as Metal Man ripped through a wall, then broke a bathroom sink over the old man's head--it, too, did nothing.
His head a-popping with angry veins, the Metal Man did something he had never done before; ripping out pieces of old timey metal plating, pipes from his body, and a turnstile next to the freakishly invincible man, he somehow codgered together...
An electric guitar?!?!?!
The old man burst into laughter immediately. "What... what? You think... ha ha ha ha... BARDIC MAGIC... will break my barrier? Go... go ahead and try, you pathetic idiot!"
Acradius would probably just scratch his head at this bizarre behavior. After all the things he had seen... he had probably never encountered a techno-freak who also knew how to sing. Or... screech, as it were.
Metal Man plugged the guitar into his systems and strummed a chord; the volume was loud enough to knock the various mismatched containers and staplers and ticket holders onto the ground, and probably cause Acradius to hold his ears. Joining in the ear-shattering racket came Metal Man's voice, which was now deeper and almost demonic in its tone.
o/` You CAN'T KILL the METAAAAALLLLLL!!!! THE METAL... WILL LIVE FOREVER!!!! `\o
The turnstiles buckled, slightly moving the impudent Coachman. Acradius would most likely feel as if each word as a punch to the gut, as the air itself seemed to conspire to kill him.
o/` BRYAN TRIED TO KILL the METAL... but he failed, and was SMASHED INTO THE GROUND!!!! `\o
Another metallic roar shattered the air as images of a man with a strange sword overpowering Metal Man appeared. Yet, just as he had appeared to triumph, the Metal Man in the illusion punched him so hard his sword broke, and the fallen warrior fell to the ground.
Then, as if the air itself had been possessed by the spirit of Heavy Metal, both the Coachman and Acradius would be sent for a ride by extremely powerful blasts of pure sonic fury; both would leave nasty craters in the ground, as their ears most likely rang. But the Coachman got up as if nothing had happened... dimly laughing. Metal tightened his furious glare, as he strummed another riff and his improvised guitar began to shoot sparks of electricity.
o/` CYBORG NINJA TRIED TO KILL THE METAL! BUT HE failed, and was swiped down, by the SODA'S POUND! `\o
Electricity shot everywhere, blowing out lights and electrifying the floor. Out of the air, an image of a cybernetic ninja being impaled by a soda machine appeared. Only... it was all too real, as a still-bloody soda machine careened out of the hallucination and into the subway ticket area, where it exploded and threw exploding soda bottles all around. The electricity was still going... in short order, Acradius would get a briefer, more glass-filled reminder of that first attack Metal Man had used against him.
STILL, the vile Coachman stood, even sampling one of the sodas before it could explode. Acradius probably wouldn't have much time to think himself, as the air had been filled with sound waves, electrified soda, and razor-sharp glass for several minutes--and now the ground was covered in it.
Metal Man's eyes became ever more bloodshot, as the ground buckled and he SMASHED his foot down.
o/` AMRIIICK TRIED TO KILL THE METAL... But he FAILED, and was smashed down a diagonal elevator's ELECTRIFIED THIRD RAIL!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! `\o
The image of a man being used as a surf board down an elevator appeared. The image then exploded as Metal Man broke into his final cacophonous scream, which knocked out the lights and caused the roof itself to crack and disintegrate. As bits of the roof fell, Metal Man lunged at Amrick... and swung the guitar at his head, intent on killing him with the pure rock n' roll!
The Coachman silently laughed as even this did not break his field. Then he subsequently gasped when he saw a single crack appear in his left glass lens. He backed away slowly as the terminal fell in...
...Leaving Acradius just feet away from a still reverberating Metal body. The body twitched slightly. Acradius knew that the time had come to attack... for the man was no longer running at him.
The Journeyman would notice a movement under the water, as a pile of piping and wires near the Metal Man's last position began to shift. He braced himself... but there would be no combat stance that could shield him from what was about to happen.
The ground shook; Metal Man had taken out quite a bit of infrastructure. A metal hand burst out of the water, clutching angrily at the air... ..then another. As the water slowly drained, and the electricity was cut to the wires, a macabre scene unveiled itself to Acradius.
It resembled a metal piping golem; deep underneath many old bronze pipes was Metal Man, bleeding, shuddering, and hissing with steam. He felt the coldness of the water, the tingling of the electrical damage, and the burning of how he had almost lost life support while underwater. Shaking with pain and angry, the diabolical wretch of a man lurched towards the Journeyman.
But the Journeyman was wise; not wanting to once again be bushwhacked, he channeled a tiny bolt of psionic power into the loose concrete above Metal Man. *SMASH!* ...The concrete landed, dislodging some pipes from him, but he kept on coming. He was close enough for Acradius to see his murderous eyes... and his ludicrous grin.
The Journeyman backed away, and pitched a red English Phone Booth into Metal Man. *SMASH!* ...He kept on coming, walking through through the phone booth. A trail of red fluid followed the Man of Steel in his wake, as he silently opened a panel at his lower right leg.
Acradius trembled at the thought of such a maniacal killing machine. Using far more of his energy, he would shove everything he could pick up at him. Posters, marquees, signs, benches, snack vendors... the colorful, mismatched plague of anachronisms skidded across the floor and smacked Metal Man, one by one. But the orchestra of smashing noises that followed indicated his telekinesis couldn't save him from this.
The Silver Sadist whipped out his custom-built Elephant rifle. Made to kill prey ten times larger than Journeyman with one or two shots, it was definitely overkill. Although many would find its presence to be an anachronism, Metal Man would be quick to remind them... that killing power doesn't necessarily increase every time weapons technology is improved.
Metal Man aimed the unwieldy weapon at Acradius, who leaped into another terminal. The once solid concrete corner of the wall he hit behind was blasted asunder by one of Metal Man's infernal shells. Despite being waist-deep in rushing water and bleeding a trail a mile long, the Man of Steel would not stop until he had gotten rid of this... obstacle.
Acradius kept on running; there was little he could do against this seemingly unstoppable mad man. At least, while he had the cover of the subway tracks and that huge gun. He ran inside a ticket window, only to hear a loud *BAM!* and then have glass rain upon him. Another small explosion occurred, as a slug blasted away the door to the ticket booth. He peeked from a safer corner and saw the Man of Steel had foolishly come up onto the terminal to shoot at him; although he was still plated in steel and stuck full of pipes, he was a far easier target to hit.
Though to his horror, he saw the Man of Steel had attached an auto-loader from his suit onto the gun, and that earlier damage had not disabled it; leaving him unprepared for the unanticipated reflex shot Metal Man made when his sensors detected just one of Acradius' hairs. Acradius fell back, ringing in his ears, as the neat white tiles of the ever-so-clean 1970's subway terminal became bloodstained. Smoke rose from the wound, as Metal Man closed in for the kill.
But as he aimed to end it all, Acradius had finally gotten into range to try his trick. While he had just had a portion of his scalp nearly blown off, he wasn't going to let a medieval weapon slay him. He flicked a finger and bent Metal Man's boomstick at the worst moment. Before Metal Man could say anything, the whole apparatus exploded from his attempt to fire it while it was bent.
*BLAMMMMMM*
They were both on the floor now, blackened by soot and with many pieces of shell in their shoulders and faces. Metal Man's visor had cracked and one of his fake teeth now sported a nice chunk of lead pierced through it. He coughed, then chuckled wryly. "You've got a lot of spirit in ya." He slowly climbed up, while Acradius prepared a counter attack. "This isn't going to be a boring fight after all, eh?"
A foreign voice called from the other side of the booth.
"Oh, if it isn't the Metal Blunder himself. Coming again to get himself killed."
There was the English coachman, dressed in black, looking saggy and old. Metal Man was so infuriated by his sudden reappearance he hurled a conveniently located 1910 cash register at his head. It sailed through the air, only to ricochet off of the old man's invincibility field. *CH-BONK!* He cackled like an old witch. "Ha ha ha ha... that never gets old, does it?"
Acradius would stare, walking aside for a moment... just to process the unmitigated weirdness which had occurred. To him... this was just a man attacking another old man... for no flipping reason whatsoever! ...Meanwhile, Metal Man locked eyes with the Coachman, taking out his silver pistols from earlier and uselessly shooting at the old freak.
The man walked casually towards Metal Man, as bullet after bullet bounced right off his forehead like it was rubber. "Now now, you have a guest here! Even if you could harm me... it would be rude to ignore them just to fight little old me." He sat atop one of the 1980's turnstiles near the entry to the station. Behind him, blurry sunlight filtered in, almost as if there wasn't an actual surface to this planet, but an illusion. As Metal Man shook his fist, the man looked at Acradius. "Oh, don't worry little old me. But just know there's a bonus if you kill this little old bitty of metal here. He's... quite the pain in the socket, is he not?"
While Acradius had chosen to ignore him originally, the creepy intuition he had snapped him to attention. As he had just gotten a wound to one of his arm sockets... and it wasn't obvious. Especially not to a weird old man with thick glasses.
Metal Man, meanwhile, continued to deteriorate into insanity and madness. He ripped a lamp out of the wall and smashed it uselessly over the coachman's head, then began ripping up floor tiles and flinging them like boomerangs. Acradius watched in disbelief as Metal Man ripped through a wall, then broke a bathroom sink over the old man's head--it, too, did nothing.
His head a-popping with angry veins, the Metal Man did something he had never done before; ripping out pieces of old timey metal plating, pipes from his body, and a turnstile next to the freakishly invincible man, he somehow codgered together...
An electric guitar?!?!?!
The old man burst into laughter immediately. "What... what? You think... ha ha ha ha... BARDIC MAGIC... will break my barrier? Go... go ahead and try, you pathetic idiot!"
Acradius would probably just scratch his head at this bizarre behavior. After all the things he had seen... he had probably never encountered a techno-freak who also knew how to sing. Or... screech, as it were.
Metal Man plugged the guitar into his systems and strummed a chord; the volume was loud enough to knock the various mismatched containers and staplers and ticket holders onto the ground, and probably cause Acradius to hold his ears. Joining in the ear-shattering racket came Metal Man's voice, which was now deeper and almost demonic in its tone.
o/` You CAN'T KILL the METAAAAALLLLLL!!!! THE METAL... WILL LIVE FOREVER!!!! `\o
The turnstiles buckled, slightly moving the impudent Coachman. Acradius would most likely feel as if each word as a punch to the gut, as the air itself seemed to conspire to kill him.
o/` BRYAN TRIED TO KILL the METAL... but he failed, and was SMASHED INTO THE GROUND!!!! `\o
Another metallic roar shattered the air as images of a man with a strange sword overpowering Metal Man appeared. Yet, just as he had appeared to triumph, the Metal Man in the illusion punched him so hard his sword broke, and the fallen warrior fell to the ground.
Then, as if the air itself had been possessed by the spirit of Heavy Metal, both the Coachman and Acradius would be sent for a ride by extremely powerful blasts of pure sonic fury; both would leave nasty craters in the ground, as their ears most likely rang. But the Coachman got up as if nothing had happened... dimly laughing. Metal tightened his furious glare, as he strummed another riff and his improvised guitar began to shoot sparks of electricity.
o/` CYBORG NINJA TRIED TO KILL THE METAL! BUT HE failed, and was swiped down, by the SODA'S POUND! `\o
Electricity shot everywhere, blowing out lights and electrifying the floor. Out of the air, an image of a cybernetic ninja being impaled by a soda machine appeared. Only... it was all too real, as a still-bloody soda machine careened out of the hallucination and into the subway ticket area, where it exploded and threw exploding soda bottles all around. The electricity was still going... in short order, Acradius would get a briefer, more glass-filled reminder of that first attack Metal Man had used against him.
STILL, the vile Coachman stood, even sampling one of the sodas before it could explode. Acradius probably wouldn't have much time to think himself, as the air had been filled with sound waves, electrified soda, and razor-sharp glass for several minutes--and now the ground was covered in it.
Metal Man's eyes became ever more bloodshot, as the ground buckled and he SMASHED his foot down.
o/` AMRIIICK TRIED TO KILL THE METAL... But he FAILED, and was smashed down a diagonal elevator's ELECTRIFIED THIRD RAIL!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! `\o
The image of a man being used as a surf board down an elevator appeared. The image then exploded as Metal Man broke into his final cacophonous scream, which knocked out the lights and caused the roof itself to crack and disintegrate. As bits of the roof fell, Metal Man lunged at Amrick... and swung the guitar at his head, intent on killing him with the pure rock n' roll!
The Coachman silently laughed as even this did not break his field. Then he subsequently gasped when he saw a single crack appear in his left glass lens. He backed away slowly as the terminal fell in...
...Leaving Acradius just feet away from a still reverberating Metal body. The body twitched slightly. Acradius knew that the time had come to attack... for the man was no longer running at him.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Saria Dragon of the Rain Wilds
- Administrator
- Posts: 34048
- Joined: Sat Jul 15, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: Forteresse de Valois
- Has thanked: 59 times
- Been thanked: 44 times
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
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Metal Man
- Member
- Posts: 17964
- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
- Contact:
Ideally there would be at least one more set of posts, but if Acradius is unable to get on long enough to post a comment saying yay or nay, I'm going to default to letting judge proceed.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Saria Dragon of the Rain Wilds
- Administrator
- Posts: 34048
- Joined: Sat Jul 15, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: Forteresse de Valois
- Has thanked: 59 times
- Been thanked: 44 times
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
I feel that's really cheap, considering the conditions under which our competitors are battling. It's the final battle between two deserving competitors, and penalizing them because life happens just feels tacky.
However, Ac hasn't posted in a while and probably won't. So I guess this one's done.
TIME.
However, Ac hasn't posted in a while and probably won't. So I guess this one's done.
TIME.
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Metal Man
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Yeah, he hasn't... posted... since my last post(s) so I'd agree with calling time.
And there is kinda the lateness thing, heh.
And there is kinda the lateness thing, heh.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Saria Dragon of the Rain Wilds
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Well, part of agreeing to participate is acknowledging that you will need to allocate time to write. I'm not saying we should be penalising either battler (in a large part since no penalty has been given in this tournament so far) but it's just that, to suggest we should extend the deadline because they haven't posted much kind of goes contrary to the rules and the nature of the game. If that's something you're going to ignore completely, my recommendation is to remove the rule, rather than pretend it isn't sitting there in the list. It's not "tacky", it's just the rules. We have specific exceptions already.
Half way through the judging, hopefully I'll have it done tomorrow.
Half way through the judging, hopefully I'll have it done tomorrow.
Nonsense, I have not yet begun to defile myself.
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chibimod3
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Ok, as t3hDarkness' bro I'm going to tell him to steal someone's internet to post his judging. I dunno whether or not he's read the whole battle or not but I figured this would be useful since I noticed he was the third judge. I'm going to show him the posts and try to have him get back to you. Sorry for the delay.
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Saria Dragon of the Rain Wilds
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My post is only half-way done, and I'm falling asleep at the computer. I won't be available/have time to finish until Tuesday at the earliest (I'm sorryyyyyy, I had to finish and submit an assignment today, too, for the same reason, and I was at work extra late again, so have just run out of time and energy :( :( :( ). I'm going to set out my scores right now, and if (by the time I get back) you all want to read my judging, I'll get it finished and posted for you, but you can also opt out because that's just me blathering on anyways, right? ;)
I'd also like to extend my sincere congratulations to you both on getting this far, and writing so well.
Acradius: 7.75/10
Metal Man: 7.25/10
I'd also like to extend my sincere congratulations to you both on getting this far, and writing so well.
Acradius: 7.75/10
Metal Man: 7.25/10
Nonsense, I have not yet begun to defile myself.
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Metal Man
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All in good, but I'm somewhat curious how Acradius' week-long break mid-battle is exempt from the time rule.
I had to write one of my posts while ill because of the time rule; had I known one could just wait as long as they wanted, I would have waited until I was over my cold because of it.
That was partially why I was hoping to be able to get more posts in, as on top of that it's kind of hard to get much out of those five posts, monstrous as they might be size-wise.
This, I assume, would be part of the reason for the point droppage from the other Trickster battle--but then you might understand why I am perplexed, as due to Acradius' slowness, I only got two good posts in to begin with. You then helped insist the battle be called for time.
So if it is the lack of depth due to lack of posts, I am afraid that was caused by having not enough posts to explain the rather large concept I had in mind for the epic final battle. Therefore, it would seem Acradius' lack of time to post more then twice defeated me by depriving me of being able to give you what you needed to fill the picture...
...leaving me feeling rather depressed, since this would decisively judge simpler stories that can exist in a mere two posts to be able to trump more complex ones just by stalling for time.
But your word is final, so... I guess I'll go wait on the other judges somewhere rather than groan about things I have no control over.
I had to write one of my posts while ill because of the time rule; had I known one could just wait as long as they wanted, I would have waited until I was over my cold because of it.
That was partially why I was hoping to be able to get more posts in, as on top of that it's kind of hard to get much out of those five posts, monstrous as they might be size-wise.
This, I assume, would be part of the reason for the point droppage from the other Trickster battle--but then you might understand why I am perplexed, as due to Acradius' slowness, I only got two good posts in to begin with. You then helped insist the battle be called for time.
So if it is the lack of depth due to lack of posts, I am afraid that was caused by having not enough posts to explain the rather large concept I had in mind for the epic final battle. Therefore, it would seem Acradius' lack of time to post more then twice defeated me by depriving me of being able to give you what you needed to fill the picture...
...leaving me feeling rather depressed, since this would decisively judge simpler stories that can exist in a mere two posts to be able to trump more complex ones just by stalling for time.
But your word is final, so... I guess I'll go wait on the other judges somewhere rather than groan about things I have no control over.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Saria Dragon of the Rain Wilds
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Just to quickly address your concerns: I give each individual post a score of its own, then average it out. The scores are exactly that. It doesn't really have much to do with whether or not you had an overall idea planned out (though, that responsibility still falls on you, as everyone knows that you might not get to post as much as you ultimately want, and should adjust your ideas accordingly), it is all to do with the posts that were provided. As for the time penalty, you'll need to take that up with Gale; the judges are no longer responsible for applying penalties. As I already said, I don't really see the point in deducting points from anyone now, when no one else was penalised at other stages of the tournament for similar indiscretions. If you're going to bend the rules for one person, it's only appropriate to bend them for all. If you didn't want to play by a time limit, this wasn't the tournament for you. If you were unwell and unable to perform your half of the battle sufficiently, I wouldn't doubt that some leniency would've been given if you had made it apparent at the time. But ultimately, you seem to have a problem that someone could've been given a higher score than you, without waiting for any explanation why that happened, or what provoked the difference. Obviously, I feel you performed better in the battle against Trickster. It's not my place to decide if that's because you had a cold, or any other reason or excuse you could give. I'm just making a call on what's in front of me. I'm one of three judges for a reason, too. It's just as likely that the others will deem you the winner, and that will be that.
Now, when it's not after midnight, I will work on my final judgement, as it is apparently necessary after all. Since that time is not now, I'll just be going to bed. I'm grouchy. Yeah. Wonder why. I feel like this is a huge pile of, "BACK IN MY DAY, WE DID THINGS THIS WAY". It would be accurate, too. Yaaahhh.
Now, when it's not after midnight, I will work on my final judgement, as it is apparently necessary after all. Since that time is not now, I'll just be going to bed. I'm grouchy. Yeah. Wonder why. I feel like this is a huge pile of, "BACK IN MY DAY, WE DID THINGS THIS WAY". It would be accurate, too. Yaaahhh.
Nonsense, I have not yet begun to defile myself.
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Galefore
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To put this bluntly, SD's right, I got lazy this year and since earlier rounds went by without any deductions made, we're going to say **** it this time and let it go. Next tourney, be it next year or sometime sooner, we'll definitely not be going the lazy route.
The other two judges need to post before you should even start showing signs of being a sore loser, though. Think about it; do you really want to be the tourney champ because of a deduction, or do you want to be champ fair and square? As SD said, the other judges may decide that you're the better guy this year and give it to you. You both fought for this, so here's wishing luck to the both of you.
The other two judges need to post before you should even start showing signs of being a sore loser, though. Think about it; do you really want to be the tourney champ because of a deduction, or do you want to be champ fair and square? As SD said, the other judges may decide that you're the better guy this year and give it to you. You both fought for this, so here's wishing luck to the both of you.
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Metal Man
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When I read SD's post, while I knew my ideas may be rejected, I was hoping at least she could see where I was coming from.
Instead I got a snarkily written diatribe which served only to show how little she cared for everything I stood for.
If that's how it is going to be, then I don't care if I have won or lost. Because in the end, if I win, it will be an award given not with respect, but rather random numerical superiority. In victory, I would still be looked down upon by the very judge whom had propelled so far with positive judgments in the past. And that is no victory. I do not want to win if that is how it is.
I do not mind the occasional arbitrary numerical differences, even; except when an honest question is responded to with such disrespectful whelping it shows I have no real purpose in being here. For I do not want to burden such busy people with my writing if they really don't have any time to look at it and deliver a judgment. In fact, I believe the removal of my extremely verbose posts would save SD and the, apparently, also busy other judges a great deal of effort in their work. So rejoice; you shall have time to do whatever it is which causes you to lash out so angrily at me. I believe you should this time and do not wish to take it away from you.
Just as much as I do not want to take Acradius' victory away from him, because he did not have any time to post either. It is unfair that I had so much time to post as much as I did; I shall give the victory to him, for having a real life. That is something I may never have, and which he clearly has won.
So as you can see, there is nothing more to argue about. The judges are now free from using their valuable time to discuss anything at all. Acradius will be delighted to know he has won; and I will be happy to be rid of this entire thing, which consisted of my deluded views that the past and its rules ever had any bearing on this tournament or anything else done past the year 2007.
I will further abstain from any future tournaments because it has become clear my massive posts damage the real lives of the people forced to read line after line of purple prose. I have entire communities of people who are fans of my prose and do not need to inflict it upon anyone unwilling or uninterested in reading it. I will however return in the unlikely event judges once again have time to judge and time limits once again exist and people no longer treat each other in such a disrespectful, mean spirited way.
I wish you all the best, and apologize for harming your free time with my massive posts of gibberish. And in case you think this is in jest, I suggest you ask yourself what I really have to lose by being nice and saving everyone from any potential drama by removing myself and my often too angry, over-passionate ramblings from the Gunjin. For while what I used to like has died of old age, I see no purpose in damaging that which still survives, as much as I do not care for its rules or lack thereof.
I apologize once again for being deluded and over-emotional. I simply did not read that thoughtless post I made earlier out loud. Now however I have full control over it and will protect you and your tournament from any further nonsense from myself.
My only wish is to hear from Acradius what he thinks of winning yet again. Clearly he has had a great career and was actually active in the era I have fantasized about being able to fight in but never got the chance due to my own horrible roleplaying skill back when it was actually alive. It is my hope some day I could fight him without time limits of any kind and if he could then at least be able to post once a week; for that would be much more entertaining than arguing over imaginary numbers and imaginary trophies.
It is truly the battle of me vs. myself which is more important for me to win than any numerical superiority battle; all this time I had deluded myself into thinking the old controlled everything; now I know this to be false and have properly slain the demonic urge I have to be an annoying idiot over its obvious death. As the time for that was two years ago and I was thoughtlessly not present then. So what do I have to complain about? I let it die. So be it. No reason to drag people who don't care about it into my personal ambivalence about its untimely demise. So...
I have gone on too long as it is, so I will just repeat once again; I am sorry for eliciting such a disrespectful response, and shall stay out of the way of such people so as to not cause any further ridiculous conflict over nothing. Enjoy your free time, for it is my gift to you... all of you.
P.S. If you still do not know my tone to be serious by now, I can always read this out loud to you over Skype or an mp3. I am much more interested now in making others feel better than further harming others just to help myself.
Truly, this post makes me happier than any victory ever will, anyway.
Instead I got a snarkily written diatribe which served only to show how little she cared for everything I stood for.
If that's how it is going to be, then I don't care if I have won or lost. Because in the end, if I win, it will be an award given not with respect, but rather random numerical superiority. In victory, I would still be looked down upon by the very judge whom had propelled so far with positive judgments in the past. And that is no victory. I do not want to win if that is how it is.
I do not mind the occasional arbitrary numerical differences, even; except when an honest question is responded to with such disrespectful whelping it shows I have no real purpose in being here. For I do not want to burden such busy people with my writing if they really don't have any time to look at it and deliver a judgment. In fact, I believe the removal of my extremely verbose posts would save SD and the, apparently, also busy other judges a great deal of effort in their work. So rejoice; you shall have time to do whatever it is which causes you to lash out so angrily at me. I believe you should this time and do not wish to take it away from you.
Just as much as I do not want to take Acradius' victory away from him, because he did not have any time to post either. It is unfair that I had so much time to post as much as I did; I shall give the victory to him, for having a real life. That is something I may never have, and which he clearly has won.
So as you can see, there is nothing more to argue about. The judges are now free from using their valuable time to discuss anything at all. Acradius will be delighted to know he has won; and I will be happy to be rid of this entire thing, which consisted of my deluded views that the past and its rules ever had any bearing on this tournament or anything else done past the year 2007.
I will further abstain from any future tournaments because it has become clear my massive posts damage the real lives of the people forced to read line after line of purple prose. I have entire communities of people who are fans of my prose and do not need to inflict it upon anyone unwilling or uninterested in reading it. I will however return in the unlikely event judges once again have time to judge and time limits once again exist and people no longer treat each other in such a disrespectful, mean spirited way.
I wish you all the best, and apologize for harming your free time with my massive posts of gibberish. And in case you think this is in jest, I suggest you ask yourself what I really have to lose by being nice and saving everyone from any potential drama by removing myself and my often too angry, over-passionate ramblings from the Gunjin. For while what I used to like has died of old age, I see no purpose in damaging that which still survives, as much as I do not care for its rules or lack thereof.
I apologize once again for being deluded and over-emotional. I simply did not read that thoughtless post I made earlier out loud. Now however I have full control over it and will protect you and your tournament from any further nonsense from myself.
My only wish is to hear from Acradius what he thinks of winning yet again. Clearly he has had a great career and was actually active in the era I have fantasized about being able to fight in but never got the chance due to my own horrible roleplaying skill back when it was actually alive. It is my hope some day I could fight him without time limits of any kind and if he could then at least be able to post once a week; for that would be much more entertaining than arguing over imaginary numbers and imaginary trophies.
It is truly the battle of me vs. myself which is more important for me to win than any numerical superiority battle; all this time I had deluded myself into thinking the old controlled everything; now I know this to be false and have properly slain the demonic urge I have to be an annoying idiot over its obvious death. As the time for that was two years ago and I was thoughtlessly not present then. So what do I have to complain about? I let it die. So be it. No reason to drag people who don't care about it into my personal ambivalence about its untimely demise. So...
I have gone on too long as it is, so I will just repeat once again; I am sorry for eliciting such a disrespectful response, and shall stay out of the way of such people so as to not cause any further ridiculous conflict over nothing. Enjoy your free time, for it is my gift to you... all of you.
P.S. If you still do not know my tone to be serious by now, I can always read this out loud to you over Skype or an mp3. I am much more interested now in making others feel better than further harming others just to help myself.
Truly, this post makes me happier than any victory ever will, anyway.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.