Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Way of Moderation has ended (page 566)
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OOC: Alright, this round is OVER!
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No more IC posts about lynching Dudeguy in this thread. We shall assume he was pushed into the tar, then taken out and dunked in the feathers. He now resembles a chickenman.
I am currently going to post the events following from the last post in the WoM archive, up to the events of the cameo round.
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The scene is a darkened room, where the only thing visible are shadows, from a light cast by a solitary window. From the darkness somewhere around the head of the room, a fishman in a black cloak spoke.
"So is everybody present?"
"Knock it off," Nemo grunted. "If you want to be like Carlie you'll need to start with deodorant."
"How about you both knock it off," Devoidless rumbled, snuffing out the brotherly spat before it could start. "We're here to discuss our 'concerns'."
"Ah yes, our concerns," Ubertuna echoed, before he paused with a blank look. "What concerns are these?"
Nemo mashed his palm into his forehead. "You idiot, you're the one who keeps saying you are 'concerned' about the Way of Moderation."
"Or should we call it, 'Strop's powertrip'." Devoidless rejoined. "Have you seen the way he's been treating his... bellboy?"
"Oh yes," Ubertuna mused. "That is most concerning indeed."
Both Devoidless and Nemo turned to face Ubertuna expectedly. Ubertuna spluttered, lost for words. He turned to the easiest option:
"The answer is... is obvious! We need to obstruct Strop's attempts to enslave the whole of AG!"
"And how do you propose that? Strop's more powerful and persuasive than all of us."
"Not I-" Devoidless began before he doubled over, coughing wretchedly. The room filled with soot stirred up both from the Ancient's lungs and the dust in the room, much to Nemo's annoyance.
"Well, this morning, I was rudely awoken by intruders! When I surfaced-"
"Not another penguin, I hope?" Nemo smirked. Ubertuna, in the throes of dramatic storytelling, ignored him.
"When I surfaced, I saw Strop and Moe building a curious construct... over the moat!"
"And what was this construct?" Curiosity may have killed the cat but evidently not the wolf, the dragon nor the fish.
"Come see for yourself!" Ubertuna cried, before disappearing from the room, the only evidence of his presence a loud splash and fading paddling noises.
---
Caught up in the creative freedom from his thesis, Moe had outdone himself. Not only was the course worthy of a true ninja warrior, but with corkscrews, sheer towers, precipitous jumps and tight turns an octopus would have difficulty negotiating, Strop wasn't even sure he could complete the course.
"So how are the victestants supposed to appreciate the castle while doing this course again?" Cenere asked drily.
Strop scratched his head sheepishly. "I don't know. I didn't build the course."
"That's if the castle is even there..."
Strop peered across the moat. The sound of steady hammering on mortar was ever present, and through the fog, it seemed that the bricks were indeed piling up. As to whether it would ever come close to resembling the original Armor Castle remained to be seen, though.
"Well," Strop cracked his knuckles. "No time to sit and wonder, I'm going to try it out!"
And with that, he took off.
And blah blah...yeah, it's not finished. I'll finish it later.
Strop landed in front of Cenere, who had a bit of a sickly look about him.
"It works great, why don't you give it a shot Cen?"
Strop had that roguish grin on him that clearly announced his expectation to laugh. Cenere straightened his jacket.
"Let's see," he simply said.
Several seconds later:
Strop had to manually re-hinge his Tex Avery jaw before he could speak: "How did you do that!?"
"How do you say it," Cenere muttered, still dusting off his jacket. "I am ninja?"
---
From behind the bushes, three pairs of eyes bored holes into the ninja horse and suit.
"Can you believe it!? My home, turned into a plaything!?" Ubertuna thrashed and frothed at the mouth indignantly. "I have half a mind to throw dead fish at the candidates when the blasted day they will run that course comes!"
"Wait." Nemo held up a hand. "There's an idea for you. Let's take a walk and I'll explain on the way."
"But I don't like walking-"
"Shut up, 'tuna."
---
The next scene is the one in which Strop has gathered everybody around to announce the results of the previous rounds before he is interrupted by Flippo.
Round four shall start very soon!
Alright, enough of this already!
FOLLOWING THE EVENTS OF THE CAMEO ROUND:
Round Four- Steeplechase
"Well, that's that." Strop dusted his hands, before drawing back his hoof in preparation to kick Cenere, only to be frozen by Cenere's baleful glare.
"What's going on now?"
"Dudeguy's getting lynched." Strop casually pointed to the mob advancing upon the hapless (yet somehow still culpable) Dudeguy, barrels of tar and feathers at the ready.
"Will he make the next round?"
"Sure, why not, but he won't have time to clean up before it starts, because we're going to the castle now!"
"But is it-"
"That's what I want to find out. I'll go ahead, you just... stay here and make sure things don't get too out of hand!"
Cenere folded his arms. "You know there's no way to cover up the inevitable in the time you're giving yourself, right?"
Strop glared at Cenere, then turned and dashed away.
---
"I don't believe it."
But seeing was believing. Before them stood the majestic Armor Castle, resplendent in all its glory, just as legend had it before its destruction and subsequent reconstruction at the paws of Klaus the bear.
"Well, how'd you like them apples!?" Klaus puffed, slinging a oversized mallet over his shoulder.
"Like I said, I don't believe it," Strop repeated. "How did you do it?"
Klaus rolled up the fur on his left arm. "See this scar?"
"That's real informative, Klaus."
"No, seriously! I got this scar while taking an oath with the Freemasons. Taught me everything about masonry they did!"
Strop shook his head, grinding his palm in his face. "Well, how about you show me around then."
Klaus did his best pedobear impression: "What, don't you love me?"
Strop punted Klaus in his ample rear end: "Stop being gay and do it already."
---
It truly wasn't a half-baked job. Klaus really had recreated Armor Castle, brick by brick, just the way it had been. Without all the castle feasts in between, as had been archived by KingRyan.
"Well, I'll be darned Klaus, you really did it." Strop said while trying to hide a sigh of relief.
"Am I awesome or what?"
Strop glanced around. Even the tower had been rebuilt, including the lack of stairs, and the clock tower itself had been restored along with its furnishings.
"It was hell but I dug all of it out of the rubble and restored it with these two paws."
And, as a finishing touch, sitting on the laundered bedsheets was a set of pink cotton panties.
"Well, that's touching Klaus. Thanks." Strop said, before adding: "No homo."
Klaus smacked his paws together. "Yeah, moderatorship here I come! So when's the next round?"
Strop cracked his joints ominously. "Ah yes, about that. See, I'm afraid there's a problem with that."
"What do you mean!? Are you being a dirty ninja again!?"
"Dirty? No. I'm just being pragmatic." Strop held up his arm, and Thor poofed into it. "Truth is, despite your excellent work, the results of your actions indicate you are a high risk to the tournament and the city. Therefore it is my duty to ensure the safety of the folk of Armor Games. See you next week."
Before Klaus could even gape in shock, Strop swung the banhammer with all his might. The head connected cleanly with Klaus' gut. He was catapulted out the window in an instant and flew higher and higher until he disappeared among the clouds.
"NO HOMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO." Klaus screamed as he went, his voice fading and eventually lost to the winds.
Strop waved his arms and Thor disappeared, then he furtively glanced out the window. Cen had not arrived yet. Which means it was unlikely he saw what had just transpired.
Good.
---
Through the great iron gate at the back of the Armor Court of Great Justice the victestants filed, looking awestruck at the significance of their privilege. For until now only developers, admins and moderators could pass through these gates. However these warriors on the Way of Moderation who now tread the hallowed grounds of the embankment of the moat that surrounded Armor Castle were the cream of the cream, they had made it this far-
"Okay, now to be clear, Dodgeball was a warmup round." Strop clapped his hands together. Everybody turned towards him, a blank look on their faces.
What met them was a horrifying construct:
"Great," Kingryan muttered. "This is going to be bad for my back..."
"Before we begin, I've got a few announcements to make. You know, the ones I was going to make before we were interrupted."
Dudeguy coughed out a few feathers and shifted miserably. Everybody took a moment to snigger at him before Strop resumed.
"I have some results for you. Cenere?"
Cenere shuffled through his clipboard and produced some fancy looking certificates. Strop called out to the assembly, and the named people shuffled forward to receive their award with a bemused look on their faces.
"First in Best Dressed: Goumas
Moderator's Pet: Parsat, The Bullman
Last One In Is A Rotten Egg: Frank
Cenere Disapproves: Gametesta
How Did You Get There omghax: Klaus"
There was a pause, for Klaus was absent. "Oh, yeah, about that... Klaus is-"
Cenere nudged Strop, "Did you-"
"Not now Cen! Anyway-"
"Wrecking Ball: Manta
Meatshield: Kingryan"
There was a smattering of applause as well as a good deal of giggling. Strop held up his hands and silence fell gradually. "I've also got some scores for you. In alphabetical order:"
With his nose buried in the notes, Strop read:
Bullman- 95
Chill- 30
Crimson- 0
Dudeguy- 20
Flipper- 60
Frank- 75
Gametesta- 50
Goumas- 25
Kingryan- 70
Klaus- 100
Leon- 85
Manta- 55
Parsat- 80
Pixel- 35
Thoad- 90
Vise- 5
Everybody looked at each other, confused. What could these scores mean?
Strop looked up again. "These are your idiot scores."*
Before anybody could react, he kept talking:
"So this round is the real deal. It's called steeplechase. Does everybody here know what a steeplechase is?"
From the general muttering all around, Strop had to conclude that most of them didn't, and even if they did, they were more interested in finding out what an idiot score was. He sighed and resumed. "Steeplechase is a footrace through an obstacle course. Most courses aren't as... strenuous as this..." He took a moment to glance at the bed of spikes before turning back with a glint in his eyes, "...but being a moderator involves, uh, being very agile?"
Cenere facepalmed.
"The basic idea is this. Follow me. Try to keep up. Try not to die. Ready, set go!"
And with that, the ninja horse bounced away like a flash and disappeared into the wooden corkscrew. The victestants fell over themselves in a delayed reaction, trying to catch up, and soon pandemonium ruled over the course.
But Strop hadn't even finished the first lap before a flying fish landed smack in his face. At least it seemed to be a flying fish. On closer inspection, it was actually dead which meant...
"UBERTUNA!!! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?"
"I could ask the same of you, invading my home!" grated Ubertuna, drawing his arm back and hurling another dead fish at Strop. "This nonsense has to end! Rise, my ichthyoid battalions!" With that, Ubertuna raised his arms dramatically and started quivering all over.
"Not another one of his useless theatrics," Strop muttered before he hopped into the catapult and reacquainted himself with the walls of Armor Court.
Elsewhere on the course, Manta twitched. "What the heck is that?"
Seemingly by levitation, dead fish rose from the waters, and, in a necromantic pantomime, started dancing through the air until the course was clogged with flying dead fish.
"Oh god, the horror!" Not only did the victestants now have to negotiate the course, in particular the winding tunnel with its secret trapdoors and booby traps, but they had to dodge the putrid projectiles! As if this wasn't enough, suddenly a giant fist crashed through the tunnel.
"VOIDY, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Strop screamed.
"Sorry," the Ancient dragon grinned deviously. "I received reports of a spammer in the area... throwing fish around?"
"THAT'S UBERTUN- wait... oh crap" Strop grit his teeth as he suddenly realised the situation. "Where's Nemo?"
Round 4: Steeplechase, is now underway!
Your task: Write an account of your character and how they negotiate the course from the point of starting, through to when Ubertuna starts throwing dead fish, through to when Devoidless starts randomly smashing everything. After this, general pandemonium rules so you are encouraged to be creative!
Rules:
* Only write about your own character. You may mention the presence of others, but your own character is too preoccupied with surviving and not getting smacked by dead fish or Devoidless to worry about who they are. Except Dudeguy, because he's impossible to miss, being covered with tar and feathers.
* Dudeguy, just to rub it in, you're covered in tar and feathers. Aside from looking like a chicken, it also carries the side-effects of being extraordinarily itchy (so you'll also be acting like a chicken!) and slows you down slightly.
* Gabriel is present for journalistic purposes. He does not run the course. However Cen is nowhere near Strop, Cen has elected to watch proceedings from the embankment, next to the drawbridge.
* Nobody has spotted Nemo yet.
* To put things in perspective, the only victestant who has a remote chance of keeping up with Strop is Manta (provided he has glued his wig to his head, otherwise it's going to keep falling off...), followed by Gametesta and Pixel (flying characters). Most of you should be able to handle the course well enough, though, so I will trust your discretion to write within the bounds of your character's abilities. Not that this really matters, the agenda used to be about trying to keep up with Strop but with the appearance of 'tuna and 'voidy, the priority is now to survive.
* Some of your characters have established personal agendas. They will not come into play until after the conclusion of this round.
* Once again standard submission procedures apply.
* The deadline is Friday of this week.
Okay, that's it. HAVE AT IT!!!!!!
*Reference scores:
Cenere- 1
Strop- 99
Notes:
This proves that the majority of the characters here are idiots. Cenere's 1 point comes from his habit of keeping unreasonable promises for the sake of keeping promises. Try as I might to find anything, there is not a shred of idiot in Crimson.
Dudeguy would have scored 10 but got x2 multiplier for hiring a hitman to blow up Flippo's bakery.
It was hard to determine Gametesta's idiot score so we gave him the middle score.
The Bullman is arguably the biggest (haha, pun intended) idiot of them all, but at least knows when he's beat. Klaus just has no clue whatsoever and Strop is too stubborn to admit anything.
Chill got most of his idiot points for being drugged. By Strop.
I have no idea how Parsat escaped from the altar.