Ternity archived megathread


#1

So it’s finally come to this. Yes, after all this time, I indeed have a follow-up to our aborted SRK Battle Poll V, and I have high hopes for this one. *ternity *is the latest in the line of Eternity writing tournaments which blends together the elements of role playing game systems, fan fiction, and collaborative writing. Sponsors and players pick from eligible fictional characters and will guide their stories throughout this new world. ternityis to be divided into two whole pieces.

ternity: Niggapocalypse
The beta test tournament, which will occur first. Currently scheduled to run for 5 days, Niggapocalypse is a farce of cosmic proportions. You, the player, will be asked to sponsor, write as, and play as a nigga. The definition of nigga is up to your interpretation, but realness, courage despite the odds, and an alignment of “chaotic-neutral” are all benchmarks of the nigga.

The plot is simple. Led by a mysterious white lolita, the Niggapocalypse go on a world tour for their own means. Some seek equality among all people: many more will seek fame and fortune. Whatever the reasons, the Niggapocalypse are headed down a path which will lead them straight toward the perpetrator of all the world’s ails: The Man himself.

As this is a beta, the level of characterization and plot will not necessarily be as deep as one would find in an actual tournament. However, Niggapocalypse is meant for new players to gather their bearings, while veteran players are given a new framework to play in. If you’re new to the Eternity writing tournaments, we highly encourage you to either participate or observe the beta.

ternity: This Bastard Universe
The main tournament. In the main attraction, you must sponsor a character who has either appeared in a fictional crossover (see: Super Smash Bros.), originates from a fictional crossover (see: Sora from Kingdom Hearts; the marijuana man from Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue) or is a part of a shared universe (see: anyone from Marvel Comics). We will be rather lenient in determining eligibility and the fine line between shared universes, crossovers, and the stories that are not.

The plot is a mystery in space. There exists, in the Multiverse, an amalgamated world. It is known by several names, the most important being This Bastard Universe and Earth-ternity. This world shares characters, locations, cultures, and laws of physics with other fictional universes, combining them into a cohesive planet. Your characters, rather than being culled from their native, canon universes, will instead have already been born, lived and existed on this world. As such, their appearances, histories, and even personalities may be moderately altered.

For example, King of Fighters contestant Iori Yagami may be the lead singer of a rock band, while Mega Man X’s Zero acts as drummer. Furthermore, Devil May Cry’s Dante makes the city of Metropolis is home, but it’s the same Metropolis where brilliant scientist and business tycoon Lex Luthor hails from. The alteration of your chosen characters will be up to you, however all characters are sponsored and the means they’re portrayed are at the discretion of the hosts. If you decide to sponsor Cloud Strife, but have physically turned him into John Madden bearing only Cloud Strife’s name, that character will not be allowed. If, however, you decide to sponsor Cloud Strife, maintain his physical appearance, but also decide to make him a football coach, this is fine. However, if Adam Warlock has already used Cloud Strife in his character’s backstory as a lieutenant pimp from the mean streets of Midgar, you must find a way to acknowledge and reconcile your interpretations of the character together. This is the most amount of freedom the sponsors have ever been given on a writing tournament of this nature. Do not abuse it.

Our tentative dates and times are as follows:
** Update. The beta has been bumped up by one week. The new times for Niggapocalypse are as follows.
Note: All times are in Central Standard Time.
**
lol schedule


#2

Side ternity Trailers

Side ternity
Episode 01: Orientation Day

Somewhere huddled in-between the bodies of empty galaxies that will never be distinguished by living eyes, lying within the fiery mass of light which borders the infinite universes, lies a white plane of existence. This plane is no larger than an island, and contains only the most peculiar of things: a sandbox surrounded by a field of grass, a computer which sat atop a desk, a rake, a lawnmower, and the girl in a dress who pushed it.

This was a world with no color, and barely any shade to define the objects which existed here, save for the girl’s bright red collar and her likewise crimson eyes. She mowed the grayscale lawn for no particular reason, barring one that only she would understand. She continued to mow the lawn of indistinguishable white grass for a period of time difficult to measure without reference. It may have been ten minutes, perhaps ten months, possibly ten years, and ten millenia was certainly within the realm of possibility. It could have even been twelve minutes.

She was the master of this land of no subjects, save for a rake, lawnmower and computer. Some would fashion her as a deity construct. She had only one name for herself: Princess Pin. In an interminable amount of time afterward, she would use the computer, and she would learn about the world outside her realm. The princess will find a way to escape her eden and get swept up into the affairs of a multitude of universes where she is unknowingly instrumental. However, that won’t be until later. For now, the princess will play in her lonely reality, stopping once every century to remove the grains of sand from her sandals.


The last time Coffy Mackenzie took a personality quiz, there was one question that truly struck her:

  1. If you could pack your bags tonight and arrive tomorrow morning, which of the following cities would you travel to?

a) Shanghai
b) Paris
c) San Francisco
d) Athens

Realizing that this wasn’t an online quiz which limits her to select only one answer, Coffy circled every letter. It was the only question she couldn’t decide on. The actual quiz results were of no importance to her, however. She just needed something to concentrate on during the three-day-long bus ride back to her home city of Gotham. Her nostrils had known first hand the horror of human sweat, anal flatulence, and un-brushed teeth, but Coffy didn’t let the unpleasantness sour her mood. She was certainly excited, anxious, bored and depressed, but she wasn’t annoyed by the combination of minor irritations. To her, that was the worst feeling of all.

Coffy’s reading material for the trip included issues of Razorback, AdBusters, and TV Guide, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and Lolita. She had dog-eared the second page of Vladimir Nabokov’s infamous classic about a year earlier and hadn’t touched the book since when she decided to give it another shot. One hour later, and she was up to page three. Maybe she can finish the next page sometime before the year was over? Coffy was again relegated to looking at open pasture alongside the highway through the window, moving at the speed of filmstrip.

Left jobless and near-destitute after completing a two-year degree out of state, Coffy hoped that she could return to live with her former guardian. On a whim, she also hoped to pursue a fulfilling career in substitute teaching, planning to survive with only a fraction of effort. She hoped that she could fulfill her lifelong dream of being a professional slacker within ten years, after matching $1,000,000 three times on a lottery scratcher. She put on her large cup-style headphones and fired up her MP3 player, loading her song list on random, and hoped that a song she liked would start playing. Coffy Mackenzie hoped a lot of things.

1. The Pancakes Martin ~ Pancakes Can Panick

Coffy Mackenzie was just going to have to settle to learn to like the songs that come up when she clicks random select.

She was a young woman, aged in her mid-twenties. She kept her blond hair short and somewhat chopped, and had a penchant for wearing green hoodies and jeans, this moment not an exception. Coffy Mackenzie could be likened to a follower of punk rock, though she likes Milkcan even though they sold out. She listened to the Clash, ENOZ, and the Rock 'N Roll High School soundtrack religiously, although ENOZ isn’t very punk at all, and is really just formerly mainstream has-been Japanese acoustic-pop, but it’s okay since she likes to broaden her musical palette and to categorize her musical taste into genre is spineless conformity, so you can shut the hell up and log out of the hub if you don’t like her MP3s.

She turned to the gruff-looking muscular man sitting beside her, who was probably a released ex-con. He was sleeping, and probably wasn’t concerned whether or not listening to ENOZ made Coffy a tool. She didn’t have to justify her fluctuating interests in music over the course of a decade, nor does she have to explain why she’s an ardent collectivist liberal with a pair of jeans bought on sale at the Gap. Of course we contradict ourselves. That was the whole point of Nietzsche, dammit!

2. Red Hot Chili Peppers Tear ~ By the Way

Coffy walked from the bus depot to her old home, the flat of her former surrogate parent, Judah Solomon underneath the rumbling gray New Gotham horizon, with only her hoodie’s hood to guard her from the slightly acidic rainfall. Walking about twenty city blocks, she noticed the nostalgic surroundings; the Spanish bodega where she’d been caught skipping high school, the arcade she’d play fighting games in with some older guys, the street corners which had at one time been bootleg movie havens, now inherited by gyro vendors. She noted the promotional band posters pasted fifty times on a wall, haphazardly covering similarly sequential posters for a movie that was released two months ago. She saw graffiti tags layered over earlier graffiti tags in spite of city wide clean-up proposals. These were otherwise unremarkable scenes which resurged memories from Coffy’s childhood and adolescence, many of them embarrassing, all of them dear.

There was an alleyway in-between a street corner and Judah’s apartment. Coffy did not stop to look at it.

Coffy knocked on Judah’s door on the fifth floor. It had already been unlocked, and the knocking cracked the door open. Coffy let herself in, feeling like a ghost wandering through a memory. Everything, from the cracks in the walls, the scent of Jewish cooking, the placement of scattered books, pictures, and ancient scrolls filled the shape of the silhouette which was her memory of living here. It was as if Coffy Mackenzie was intruding on the past she left behind, placing her childhood and adolescence on the pedestal of rose-tinted nostalgia.

Hello, Coffy. An ancient voice murmured in the kitchen. As a young girl, you feared the statutes I set forth in my abode. They are set in stone, unchanged through time.

So I still have a ten 'o clock curfew? Coffy said, bemused. What if I’m working?

The lands needn’t be tilled beneath a crescent moon. Get a day time shift. Coffy went into the kitchen and saw her former guardian, Judah Solomon sipping chamomile tea.

‘And it shall be righteous,’ Judah?

It shall be most righteous in this House of Solomon.

Whatever. Coffy hugged the man, who was still the same, large authoritative figure she had left him. His long hair and beard had gotten a tinge grayer, and an inch longer, his skin bronzed and wrinkled yet rosy.

Child, have you a job interview?

Uh, um, not one scheduled yet. I was gonna go job hunting tomorrow.

No need. I hath been diligent and brought unto you a job orientation. I’ve used my influence as the last son of the House of Solomon to render this opportunity to you.

Whoa. Uh, thanks Judah. I was never aware that you were so powerful?

Nay. The owner was an old student of mine. In this, he has paid his debt.

So, where’s this place at?

You shall be in the midst of an assembly with the pet department manager of LOL-Mart.

LOL-Mart. … Oh, GOD no, not LOL-Mart! Coffy’s face shrunk and her jaw dropped. Judah chopped his hand across her face.

Take not the God of Abraham in vain! Repent and announce thyself at LOL-Mart at the dawn of the sun!

The…the dawn of what?

Eight AM.


The Next Day


| 08:15 AM

New Gotham LOL-Mart, LOL Avenue

3. Ryuichi Sakamoto Where is Armo ~ The Last Emperor

Coffy Mackenzie was racking her brain on her deductibles.

Should I file 1? I don’t think I’ll be working here long enough to actually have to file for taxes, and I don’t feel like giving the government my money to fund a war for weapons contractors anyway. But what if I do end up working here for over a year? Then I’ll have to save up and pay taxes. 0 or 1? 0 or 1? United by one, but divisible by zero. Fine. Zero.

Coffy knew that a good chunk of her earnings will now be taken from her paycheck. However, Coffy had learned from Judah that in times of doubt, it is best to be fruitful; whatever that meant. She was now in a small room known as the Workers’ Resource department. Beside her were a line of computers which logged onto the company’s intranet, where she would soon be taking her Computer Based Learning activities, or CBLs. In front of her were only three other orientates, individuals desperate enough, shameless enough to work in the peripheral armpit that was LOL-Mart.

At least she’d be working in the pet department. Dog and cat owners are decent human beings, she knew. She believed. She hoped.


| 09: 48 AM

New Gotham Cathedral

Park Kun-wan downed the last drip of chamomile tea, tilting the Styrofoam cup up for a few seconds before placing it in a trash can outside the cathedral’s entrance. He wanted to be early so that he’d find a spot he liked, but it turned out that the church has had trouble filling its seats lately. Park sighed for no reason in particular, and stretched his arms out across the empty pew. Park had the habit of dressing up for mass, although there were few eyes there to notice the business attire he came in, or the shiny new designer eyeglasses he bought just the day before, or the new Armani brogues he picked up the day before that. Park made sure not to remind himself of his attire, lest he adopt a vain frame of mind. He had felt bemused an at ease for a good week since he confessed his sins last time, unable to recall a single infraction since then. He decided to tithe-for-two today.

And one wing of the other cherub was five cubits, reaching to the wall of the house: and the other wing was five cubits also, joining to the wing of the other cherub. Park had made it a custom to select any verse from the Bible, randomly selected from a random page each day, and ruminate on it for the remainder of that day. Unfortunately, most individual verses from the Bible don’t lend themselves easily to meditation, but Park chose to remind himself every hour that, indeed, the cherub’s wings have a length of five cubits each, whatever a cubit is supposed to be.

After the service, Park Kun-wan went home to his studio apartment above the city. His target wouldn’t arrive until later in the evening, so he spent an hour cleaning out his gun and his rifle.


| 10:22 AM

New Gotham LOL-Mart, LOL Avenue (Worker’s Lounge)

Coffy was sipping on a LOL-Brand knockoff called Mountain Dude. It undercut its competition by a quarter, but with only a handful of dollar bills to her name, Coffy didn’t mind. The poisonous den that was the Smoker’s Lounge was only a door away, segregated from society at large. Coffy was convinced that she’d quit a month ago.

But I’m stressed out now. This job sucks, and the promo video I saw just sucked. Sam Lolton was a bigot and a closet pedophile, and the world is better off with maggots decomposing his corpse for the last twenty years. I guess I’ll head over there and bum a menthol off someone. That doesn’t count, right?

Coffy went through the door, entering the connecting Smoker’s Lounge. The walls were duller in color, the air was thicker, and the weathered faces on the smokers were considerably less optimistic about their futures. They were real people. There was one woman, who looked middle aged and world weary, whose glasses kept tilting off her face since she had been sulking at the corner of her table. Coffy figured she could bum a cigarette from the pack in front of her with little hassle.

Hey. 'scuse me, could I bum a cigarette?

Uh… sure. The woman slowly liberated the roll of tobacco from the pack and handed it to Coffy.

Uh, could I borrow a light too? Coffy murmured with the cigarette between her lips. At that, the sulking woman pulled out a cheap yellow lighter, inflaming the peak of the cigarette. Thank 'oo.

Don’t mention it.

Hey, are you okay? You look kind of down. At least a little more down than the people I’ve seen working here anyway.

Oh. It’s just that the Resources Tournament is happening today.

What? Resources Tournament?

Every three months, management has employees from each department fight each other in a ring in the middle of the store. It was a publicity stunt that they put on a couple years ago that became popular. The department whose employees win are rewarded with a thirty cent raise.

Oh… wow. That’s mind-bending-ly retarded, uh… Coffy paused to take a look at the worker’s name tag. …Peggy. Wouldn’t the Workforce Commission shut something like that down?

You would think so… but they’ve either exploited some loophole or plain just don’t care. Peggy raised her glasses again. Coffy took another look at her name tag, and realized:

Hey! We’re in the same department! How is it over in Pets, anyway?

Pets is fine. We’re not the busiest department, but we end up cleaning the floor a lot. Don’t expect to get many raises though. Anyone who isn’t in Sporting Goods or Electronics gets the shaft.

Sporting Goods and Electronics? I take it they’re the teams that win the most.

Do you know how many ex-convicts work in Sporting Goods and Electronics? Too damn many. We have no chance, honey. We might as well quit this year, like we always do.

Hey… tell me more about this ‘Tournament.’

Well, you’re allowed to use an item from your department as a weapon. Sporting Goods will usually bring boxing gloves, since shotguns were outlawed after the first Tournament, and Electronics tends to jimmy-rig an iPod into a tazer. So many careers ended at the end of those iPod tazers. Peggy sighed, as if remembering a tragic incident in the past. Coffy began to grin a wide grin.

Taking my aggression out on my fellow dimwitted co-workers. Seems like a plan. I’m in.

…what?!

I said ‘I’m in.’ I’m gonna enter the Resources Tournament and kick some ass. When does it start?

It… it starts at 7:30 tonight. Our shifts will be over by then, so get your Time Adjustment Sheets ready and put them in a safe place. You don’t want to get blood all over them.


| 5:57 PM

Lower East Side, New Gotham

4. Ice Cube It Was a Good Day ~ The Predator

It was 6 PM and only a rush hour away from prime time. A red light caused the cars to stop speeding and their gusts to stop pushing a spare sheet of the Sunday paper into the air. The otherwise insignificant piece of trash was snatched before it hit the ground by a man who was dressed too expensively to bother picking up newspapers from the ground. The bald, lightly tanned Puerto Rican man was known by his close circle of associates as Chulo Chino. He randomly selected a right-wing
leaning editorial to tear and folded the rest of the paper into his pocket. Chino strolled further down the sidewalk, dodging the stock traders, executives, and the occasional minor celebrity who walked toward and past him, all hoping to catch a subway train before having to call a cab and get stuck in rush hour hell.

Chulo Chino wasn’t heading toward the subway station, nor was he going to call a taxi cab. He was going to walk into an alley in-between an expensive restaurant and an exclusive nightclub and smoke a pinch of Indian tobacco, rolled up in his torn scrap of the editorial page, veiled beneath the obscurity between two buildings and the shadow of a sun-turned-dusk. Chino leaned against a brick wall covered in colorful, heartfelt graffiti honoring a rapper who died earlier that month, his makeshift square in-hand, the smoke in his lungs, feeling the tension that anchored his legs, hands and skull ease away. Chino had just shot six men only an hour prior, a new personal record for that particular handgun, but ended up with a bullet barely grazing his head. Chulo Chino would have become Muerto Chino if it hadn’t of been for his heightened reflexes, honed by playing hours of Time Crisis in his childhood.

Chino’s confidence was shaken. He had come so close to death he saw his reflection in his eyes. He took another, another and another hit of the Indian joint, soaking it in his shaking lungs. Chino almost died an hour ago. He might die soon. Chino’s rivals could find him and gun him down this instant. Chino might walk across the street and have his body broken in half by a drunk driver. He might even burst in flames in auto-combustion if his mitochondria so decided. These thoughts continued whirling in Chino’s mind. He can die at any time. So he punched the wall behind him.

For no reason, Chino thought of the universe. The universe, according to some philosophers and physicists (whose names he couldn’t bother to remember since he heard this when he was nine years old), was eventually going to end. After a billion billion billion years, every hope and dream anyone would ever have would be absorbed into the black oblivion of space collapsing on itself. Even the by-the atoms of Chulo Chino’s long disintegrated corpse still swirling aimlessly in the space which was once the Milky Way Galaxy would be crushed. Existence itself would get shot in the face. Chulo Chino gained a sliver of enlightenment that evening. He felt one with the universe in that they would both come to the same end point. That day might have been the day Chino died, and yet it wasn’t.

He had all the time to relish in having no time when his time would come. Chulo Chino was determined to bring to reality every wish, thought and whim his mind wrought. And Chulo Chino wanted to go shopping.

Chulo Chino was once called Puto Chino by a drunk thug he promptly killed at a nightclub four years ago. For some reason, this memory drudged itself back up while he walked past a Hot Topic at the mall. Realizing he had never gone inside that store, he decided to give it a shot.

“…and that’s why Sasuke is better than Rock Lee.” A skinny young man, dressed in a blue shirt and white shorts and sandals, his black haired gelled back and his face adorned with makeup, was arguing with another person his age.

“You’re only saying that because you cosplay as him, asshole.”

“I can’t help it. I pick up more girls at cons dressed like him.”

“By looking like a girl, yeah.”

“If you’re jealous, why don’t you make an accurate costume for yourself? I recommend Chouji for you.”

“Are you kidding? Even if I wanted to, that shit’s so expensive…”

“Fuck you, then. I don’t talk to peons who can’t afford to cosplay. I’m out of here.” The man who would be Sasuke walked back toward the entrance when he accidentally collided with Chulo Chino. Chino towered over the cosplayer, who noticed the definition of the chulo’s muscles underneath his dress shirt. The Sasuke realized that this person might look like a good Zabuza when Chino grabbed his shoulders and lifted him from the ground. The old Chino would have just punched him in the gut and walked off, but Chino was now spiritually awakened to new possibilities. Finding the girlish looking man somewhat appealing to his eyes, he kissed the cosplayer’s supple young lips, rubbing his mascara on his face. Feeling unfulfilled and awkward, it was then that Chulo Chino realized that he was neither homosexual or bisexual; he punched the cosplayer in the gut and walked off. Chino vowed to never go into Hot Topic again.


| 6:31 PM

Co-Op Grocer

A black man with an imposing afro, clad in a simple long sleeved spruce cotton shirt, slacks, and imposing combat boots, walked into the Co-Op Grocer for the first time. He had only lived in New Gotham for one week, and was meaning to check the market out since he’d heard about it. As he first entered the smudged panes of the automated doors, and stepped onto the dusty tiled floor, and sniffed the archaic scent of Chinese herbal medicine and freshly plucked rutabaga, Jamal Clinton felt down-to-earth and authentic, as befits his revolutionary nature.

I’m looking for green tea, my brother. You got any? He asked a worker who had been busy stocking cabbage.

Aisle 3, on your right.

Thank you. Peace be unto you. This man had commanded a certain dignity and respect for his fellow man, each word he mouthed intoned in sincerity. He saw this working man, of any race or creed, as his brother; he hoped that this person, like all other people, would know peace of mind and strength of spirit.

And the green tea wasn’t on his right. It was on his left. The worker was misinformed. What a pissant little ignoramus! Still, the afro-wielding man smiled to himself, sighing. I shouldn’t get pissed. He made a simple mistake, or he was misinformed. This isn’t another conspiracy of the White Man to prohibit me from enjoying my right to drink nutritious, un-subsidized green tea grown by native Chinese proletariats. Choose your battles, Jamal.

Jamal Clinton was born to a lineage of beat poets, artists and radicals, all distrusting of hierarchy and authority. When Jamal was ten years old, from the perspective of a black nationalist relying on a balanced redistribution of wealth among the populace, he debated politics with white conservatives on public access television. When he was thirteen, he punched a few of them. Jamal knew well the dangers glorifying ignorance and violence posed for his people of color at that age, but he still relished in a fight won in the name of justice.

That’s right. Now I’m thirty years old, and I still have an anger management problem.

Attempting to integrate himself into mainstream society continued to be a challenge for young Jamal Clinton. Despite excelling throughout high school, he chose not to pursue higher education and instead joined the laboring class, as he was certain that the watered-down white liberal university courses would have been detrimental to his spirit. Interestingly, most of Jamal’s more successful full time jobs have been at bakeries. He was very partial to wedding cakes, creating the most smoothed edge, appealingly layered, whitest vanilla frosted cakes anyone in New Gotham had ever seen.

I am a confident brother with a fist poised to pierce through my enemy’s heart, outstretched towards justice for the people. The poor and the helpless are my people. The unjustly jailed brothers are my people. Even the wealthy White kids who shop here to look cool are my people. Why the hell do I have to remind myself of this again?

Once he got in line, Jamal noticed that the girl standing in front of him, dressed like the hippies of yore with long, red hair and throwback jeans and Jesus-sandals, had an iPod in her pocket. This was not acceptable.


#3

| 7:30 PM

New Gotham LOL-Mart, LOL Avenue (Resources Tournament)

5. Wu-Tang Clan ? Da Mystery of Chessboxin’ ~ Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

?This looks ridiculous.? Coffy stared with her jaw agape at a ring constructed in the middle of the Children’s Apparel department, and nearly a hundred screaming LOL-Mart customers crowded around it with snacks. Defying the warnings of coworkers from her department and throughout the store, she registered herself earlier as a combatant and representative of the Pets department.

?That’s the point,? Peggy added. ?For the fight, they added sodas, popcorn and chicken wings as sidekick items all throughout the store.?

?Wait, sidekicks??

?Yes, sidekicks. Ever see the little items that accompany the big items on displays? Sidekicks are like the batteries beside the toys, or the SD cards beside the digital cameras. Small trinkets you may or may not need that are virtually forced upon you.?

?Oh.?

?Read about it in the manual.?

?I never got one. Oh well. What can you tell me about this year’s competitors??

?Electronics has a big guy named Steve. He’s using these nunchuck things.?

?Nunchucks?!? Coffy yelled. ?There aren’t any nunchucks in Electronics!?

?I said they’re nunchuck things, honey. I heard they’re actually Nintendo Wiimotes, so they’re legal. What weapon will you be using??

?Oh. I picked this up on a hunch while browsing our department.? Coffy pulled a folded up leash from her pocket. ?It was the only thing even resembling a tool, much less something I could defend myself with.?

?A leash? I hope you’ve got fists of fury, dear.?

?Damn skippy. I used to have to beat down jealous prima donnas in high school. I can throw a punch.?

?You’ll need all the experience you can get.?

?I’m sorry I’m a little late, by the way. What’s the standings look like??

?Only a few departments are participating this year, since most of them waived the chance to enter. You’ll be fighting Jack from Pharmacy, then Bob from Sporting Goods will fight the new girl from the Deli. Bob’ll probably win that. If you beat Jack, you’ll fight him, or the Deli girl if she’s lucky. Steve from Electronics will probably win all his matches, so in the best case scenario, you’ll fight him in the finals.?

?Okay. What do I need to know about the Pharmacist??

?He’ll be using some biological weapon they cooked up back there. Good luck.?

?Uh… thanks.?


#4

**Side ternity
Episode 02: At Night We Like to Fight
**

| 7:35 PM

Judah Solomon’s Apartment

Judah had been compelled by only the faintest of divine interventions to study an old parchment scroll. A year ago he was handed a text dating from the Age of the Hebrews, but only now possessed the knowledge to translate it.

Judah was familiar of the infinite grains of sand that weathered away against time itself. Braving the landscape were the vagabond warriors who kept the faith in spite of Manasseh, champion of Baal. Despite the nightfall and his apartment’s air conditioning, Judah felt the sun beat down on his flesh, and the sand-filled winds chipping away at his hardened skin.

Judah tore his eyes from the scroll, putting on his lap, and realized that the wall he was facing had not only disappeared, but was replaced by the vast desert he had imagined. Judah got up from his chair and glanced behind his back, noticing that the reality of his apartment was still there. The desert he faced was also very real. Judah immediately culled from memory the name of the man who gave him the scroll in the first place:

?ZELRETCH!?

Judah looked back at his apartment. He went into his closet and picked out a large white robe. He then went into the kitchen and armed himself with eight bottles of water. Then Judah closed the refrigerator door and ventured into the desert.

Judah was well aware of the risk he was about to take. He had read about this phenomena before. To confirm his suspicions, he pulled a time piece from his robe and noticed its second hand crawled between the milliseconds.

My Coffy, Judah thought to himself, I am beckoned. I may be gone for the real time equivalent of one hour, but I would have exerted one year in that one hour. Should I relinquish my ghost, it will be your covenant to uphold my will. If I should return… you had best be home before ten 'o clock.


| 7:40 PM

New Gotham LOL-Mart

6. Daisuke Nagata ? The Ordinary People -Stage Boss- ~ Radirgy

Coffy leapt over the ropes and into the ring, thriving on the energy of the crowd.

?WHAT DOES EVERYBODY WANT?!? Coffy yelled out, expecting a response ? the only type of which was a confused murmur across the audience.

?WHAT DOES EVERYBODY NEED?!? Coffy yelled again, to the same lack of response. ?Uh, head,? she murmured to herself.

Coffy walked over to the center of the ring and faced her opponent: Pete from Pharmacy. He was a short, skinny young man, and appeared to be about 18 years old. Pete wasn’t particularly intimidating. Standing in-between them was a referee, who addressed both fighters: ?Present weapons.? Coffy showed the referee her dog leash while Pete presented a marked bottle with a skull-and-crossbones sticker placed prominently on the front. ?Associate from Pharmacy, what is this??

?Sir,? the pharmacist went on, ?this compound was formulated from the prescription medication we had. It’s specifically designed to destabilize the nervous system upon inhalation and render my opponent temporarily paralyzed. However, I have chosen to dilute this particular compound, for the sake of my opponent who is clearly over her head. I don’t want to give her a bad impression of LOL-Mart, after all.? Pete began to sound smug at this point, with Coffy badly wanting to knock him out.

?You condescending kiss ass! I bet you’re a manager in training!? Coffy snarled.

?Do not mistake my compassion for weakness, Ms. Mackenzie.? The referee backed away. The bell finally rang, starting Coffy Mackenzie’s first match. The pharmacist hopped back and began spraying the compound into the air around him, hopefully backing Coffy up against a corner and poisoning her, letting him win by default. ?What say you, Coffy? Your very life may be at ri-?

Pete’s face collided with Coffy’s right hook. She chucked the bottle out of the ring and stomped on his stomach like he was a rhythm-action arcade game. The pharmacist curled himself into a ball, attempting in vain to cushion her strikes, but Coffy lifted Pete by his neck and slammed his face into the turn buckle. Accomplishing little more than staining Coffy’s hands with his own blood, Pete could only gurgle out his last banter.

?..how…how did you beat me??

?HA! I held my BREATH, you RETAR-? Coffy inhaled the poison. Its potency was diluted and did not disable her; Coffy instead let forth a torrent of vomit on her fallen opponent for minutes. She stumbled under the ropes forsaking all dignity, having already stained the ring with a variety of her own human liquids.


| 7:43 PM

Stonegate County Penitentiary

In New Gotham, there is a veritable cornucopia of criminals. Approximately one-out-of-twenty law breakers are super powered rogues who also occasionally battle with costumed vigilantes at night. It’s easy to imagine then that the rogues would dominate their non-powered counterparts in prison environments. However, most rogues wind up at the local asylum seeking rehabilitation; the unlucky few who wind up incarcerated find themselves fresh bait in prison communities.

?How dare you! I am the goddamn Weather Wizard!? A rogue (wearing a moderately silly green costume) cried out as he was being backed into a corner in a holding cell. Unimpressed, the Weather Wizard’s attacker slapped him to the ground again, to which he responded with another effeminate yelp of ?oooh!?

?Shut up and give me your goddamn cigarette.? Chulo Chino towered over the villain, whose apparent control of the weather was fairly useless in a prison cell.

?It’s my cigarette you bastard! If I had my Weather Wand-?

?You don’t have your Weather Wand.? replied Chino, knocking the Wizard out before liberating a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and lighting one with a Zippo in the other pocket. Chino noticed another inmate staring at the longingly at the cigarettes, but being careful enough to not say anything while he was fighting. Curious, Chino walked up to the man clad in a spruce shirt and an afro. Now staring each other down, after an uncomfortable silence, Jamal Clinton spoke:

?What charges has the man trumped on you to get here, my brother??

?I beat up some white kid,? he responded. ?Because he looked like a ninja girl.?

?I’m here for beating up a white kid too. Only I did it because she had an iPod. Actually, could I bum a smoke?? Jamal asked, speaking cautiously. He knew the Puerto Rican fought one man already for this pack, and he didn’t want to make an enemy out of a Latino. Chino, still bemused by life, the universe and everything, handed a loosey to Jamal. Dragging from their cigarettes in sync, they both leaned against the wall, musing over their fate.

?Yo. What’s with the fatigues? You some kinda revolutionary??

?I know a lot about it. I’ve even raised a gun in the air in the name of freedom in my day. But ‘revolutionary?’ That’s for the history books to decide. How about you? What do you fight for??

?I’m a thug. Or at least, I was. I almost died today. Ever since, I wanted to learn more about myself before I really did die.?

?That’s dignity beyond most people’s rationale. What did you learn??

?That I’m not gay, for one. That I can … articulate my thoughts better than I thought I could. My name is Chulo Chino. Only now that I think of it, I don’t think I can ever be a Chulo again.?

An explosion rocked the side of the prison. Electrical circuits were knocked out of commission, but not before each cell was released. Jamal and Chino made a run for it, along with each inmate in the prison, their cigarettes latched firmly in their mouths.


| 8:23 PM

New Gotham LOL-Mart

7. Men Women and Children ? At Night We Like to Fight ~ Men Women and Children

There’s no way I’m getting home before 10 PM, Coffy thought to herself, remembering Judah’s house rules. I guess I’ll have to accept my lashings or having to go to bed without dinner or TV or however he’s gonna enforce his stupid curfew.

The referee appeared in the ring to announce Coffy’s next match against the winning upset from the last fight: a girl from the Deli.

I still can’t believe she won the last match with a loaf of bread. Coffy cracked her knuckles, jumping back into the ring. She walked over to her opponent, who seemed much shorter than her. Coffy’s opponent bowed to her and said ?Summer’s greetings.?

?You. What the hell was your name again?? Coffy asked.

?Not that someone as careless as you would remember it,? the short raven-haired girl replied, ?but it’s Asagi.? She disregarded the store’s dress policy, choosing to wear a long white coat over her casual wear instead of an orange blazer. As if by habit, she combed her fingers through the fur lining of her collar. Asagi’s weapon, the aforementioned loaf of bread, was outstretched toward Coffy, gripped as if it were a familiar sword. Coffy gulped: she witnessed Asagi’s last match, wherein she decimated Bob from Sporting Goods with the Italian loaf, and being assailed by carbohydrates was one of Coffy’s many weaknesses. ?Actually, stranger, what brought you here? Where are you originally from??

?Excuse me? In New Gotham born and raised … till I got in one little fight and-? Coffy halted when Asagi raised her hand.

?You have the eyes of a person from another world. I’ve wandered across many worlds, where fantasies beyond your comprehension are rendered reality. This world is a peculiar one. I don’t think I’ll be leaving any time soon.?

Coffy tugged on the referee’s sleeve. ?Hey, you getting all of this? My opponent’s off her goddamn rocker! Are you sure it wouldn’t be a discrimination suit if I beat her up?? The man shrugged his arms ? he was being paid little more than minimum wage anyway, and such was beyond his concern.

?It’s a shame that you’re unaware of the nature of the multiple universes. Perhaps I can explain this better to your parallel iteration, should she exist in my original game.? Asagi took a step back, raising her loaf toward Coffy.

?Engarde! DIMENSION SLASH!? The woman from the Deli sliced the air with her loaf, resulting in an immense, green crescent wave headed directly toward Coffy. She had only a sliver of a second to look at the attack with awe before instinctively leaping out of its way. Coffy continued bouncing toward Asagi, intent on landing a haymaker. Asagi cut Coffy’s ascent short, kicking her square in the liver in mid-air. Her body rolled across the canvas, her throat gasping, Coffy was now in desperation for air. In only an instant she had lost her will to fight.

?Was that all it took to knock you out, Miss Mackenzie??

?Actually, bullshit.? Coffy picked herself up, having healed herself as quickly as it was conveniently. ?You’re right. I’m not normal at all. Try that on me again!? Coffy spat back.

?No. I’ll make a bigger arena first.? Asagi suddenly catapulted herself through the air and through the roof, leaping several stories above the ground. She swung her bread back, and dived back to the earth below her.

?WINGED SLAYER!? Asagi forced an immense amount of energy through the crowd behind Coffy, clearing them and their surroundings from the battlefield. When Asagi finally touched ground, she had completely leveled it, leaving the clothing department in shambles and several dozen people injured. ?Huh. Drew from Softlines is gonna be angry.?

?What the hell is your problem?!? Coffy responded, staring dumbstruck from within the ring.

?I’m clearing room for our fight so it’ll be more satisfying.? The spectators who weren’t now writhing in pain or rendered unconscious had already evacuated the fight. The referee had already gone back to the smoker’s lounge, convinced his job now finished. The only person who was still watching the fight of his own free will was the General Manager, for reasons beyond his own curiousity.

?Satisfy?!? Coffy whipped her concealed dog leash at Asagi’s weapon, and tugged it into her possession. With the loaf now in her hands, Coffy saw fit to devour it to Asagi’s horror.

?What… what did you do that for!?

?Shut the hell up! You pounded my damn liver! I’m totally justified!?

?You have no idea how many Dietitians were trapped in that bread’s Item World… and you’ve condemned them all!? Asagi’s face was awash in terror, and her eyes began to stream tears in light of this tragedy. ?All those hours of grinding… wasted.?

?I have seen enough,? the General Manager finally announced. ?As a word of caution to all of you, the inmates of the nearby Stonegate County Penitentiary have just escaped. The LOL-Mart Tournament is now officially on hiatus.?


| 8:40 PM

New Gotham Slums

Park Kun-wan was an assassin in the sense that he would charge clients exuberant fees in return for murdering people. He was an assassin in several other senses as well, but that was the most important one. Park knew exactly who orchestrated the prison bombing, which was meant solely to free the recently incarcerated gangster named Johnny Viti. The thousands of other criminals and even supervillains were an externality to Viti’s associates. He knows this because he was told by a client who wants Viti killed during his breakout.

Park was smoking a cigar in the middle of a large alleyway which resembled a lush garden of barrels, crates, bricks and wet cardboard, if such things could be considered lush. His long black trenchcoat was actually uncomfortable to wear in the middle of the humid New Gotham night, but its second nature to wear a trenchcoat in this city, especially for people of the cops & robbers orientation.

He sat on a closed oil drum, waiting patiently for Johnny Viti to look for his contact hiding in these very alley: the very same contact that Park just beat to, or within close proximity to death, placing his body behind a stack of crates. Eventually, Viti stumbled his way into the alley, his mind laden with adrenaline and fear.

?Hey, you! You my contact?!? The Falcone heir was surprised that the man before him was an oriental instead of an Italian, but the ordinarily suspicious is easily ignored in times of crisis.

?Yes, Mr. Viti.?

?You’re… you’re here to save me, right? They had me locked up with the rogues and the mooleys, and I swear, just one more minute and my ass would have been dead, do you understand that?!?

?In a manner of speaking, I will save you.? Park said in-between puffs of his cigar. He took out his cigar case and offered it to Johnny, ?Relax.? The shaken up mobster had no other recourse but to do as the Korean told him. Not having had a cigar in months, Johnny Viti exhumed the smoke in a fit of hacking coughs.

?How you gonna save me if you’re gonna give me lung cancer first?!?

?Take small puffs and let the smoke sit over your tongue for a moment instead of inhaling it all at once. Don’t be a glutton.? At Park’s insistence, Viti tried it again, finally settling back into cigar smoking.

?Fine. Can we get the hell outta here already??

?Just take a look around us for a moment, Mr. Viti. Itinerants occasionally made this alley their home, which is evident in the logical sense the alley was furnished. These oil drums that dot the circular perimeter function as chairs. They radiate around a larger oil drum which is occasionally lit ablaze, evident by the heavy soot inside and around it. The barrels and crates which surround us serve as makeshift shelters. What’s interesting is how vacant this hostel of hobos is right now. Do you ever stop to wonder what the Falcone Family could do to decrease the poverty of this city, improve the quality of life by a hundredfold, and legitimately increase their profit margins at the same time??

?..what the fuck are you saying? You joined the family thinking it was the Peace Corps?? was Viti’s shocked response. It was clear to him that this man joined the Family for all the wrong reasons and will probably end up dead by the end of the month. All he could think about was putting up with Park for as long as he had to. ?Can you take me to the safe house already??

?Fine. But we’ll walk. It’s close by.?


| 8:40 PM [Eastern Standard Time]

The Infinite Desert (a pocket dimension within Judah Solomon’s apartment)

8. Ryuichi Sakamoto ? On the Hill ~ The Sheltering Sky

Judah Solomon is an old man whose body and memories bear the scars of time. However, he is a man of an old god called God, and his faith in that deity and his people has emboldened all of his efforts. Judah walked through the desert which appeared in his home for barely over a mere hour, and has yet wandered for months with nothing but a swollen belly and a face chipped by swarms of sand grains to show for it.

Judah encountered a lone cactus. With his bare, callused hand, he strangled the life out of the plant, claiming its juices for his own. Onward he wandered yet another week, and he ran into a sand wyrm so massive, its mouth was the height of a four story apartment complex, and each of its venom-protruding fangs were the length of a subway train. With his own reserves low, and knowing that his continued sustenance would depend on this monster, Solomon leapt boldly into the throat and the belly of the beast.

Judah slogged through the wrym’s entrails, its juices fouler than the corpses of a thousand scorched men. He found his way to the stomach, realizing the presence of the acids which threatened to burn his life away. Judah quickly examined the contents, noticing traces of cud.

?Acceptable,? Judah said to himself. He then punched a hole through the side of the wrym, liberating himself as easily as he damned himself. Judah then ran up the wrym’s back, and sliced its throat with a karate chop, sharper than the finest samurai sword. He spent the next few hours skinning the scales from the monster, consumings its life-giving flesh. With leftovers in his coat, Judah continued to walk onward for one more day.


The next morning, with the red sun just about to rise over the horizon, another old man appeared before Judah.

?Judah. I see you received my message.?

?Zelretch! For months I have toiled in this forsaken desert in search of you.?

?For months I have waited vigilantly.?

?As would I, my friend.? Judah and Zelretch exchanged bows. Zelretch wore a long black coat, and now bore a shaggy gray beard, while he leaned on his cane, weakened by the long wait.

?I have something interesting to tell you. A few weeks ago, in linear time, I met myself.?

?..go on.? Judah answered, unamused.

?I never meet myself. I am a wanderer of Hypertime. Only one of me can exist at any given time, you see, and I live beyond the boundaries of the linear dimension. However, I did indeed meet myself. It was impossible.?

?Did you engage the impossibility in discussion??

?Yes. He was pleasant to talk to.?

?I am glad.?

?When I saw him, he began to phase in and out of existence. Actually, that is a misnomer. Non-existence is merely a light-and-shadow trick played a dimension across from hours. Forgive me I am rambling, Judah.?

?It’s fine. Go on.?

?This other Zelretch, was clearly not from another time, and not from another mere universe. Reality is bending in ways beyond my comprehension, and beyond even my sight. My double, however, gave me a notebook he specifically left to you. I read the contents, and I have gained little understanding in the madness which drove his words.? Zelretch pulled a small note pad out from his pocket, and handed it to Judah.

?I understand. Perhaps he intends that I avert some disaster.?

?If he trusts you only half as much as I do, he will be relieved that the future is entrusted in your hands. I am sorry our reunion is cut short, old friend, but I will watch your efforts from beyond time and space. I must begin finding the source of this reality pull before all matter is consumed. I will quickly return you to your comfortable chair in your ancient apartment, Judah Solomon, with my Kaleidoscope miracle.?

?I have something to confess, Zelretch. I know that we share memories of centuries past. Yet, another memory lingers in my mind. This memory of mine confirms that I knew of you only the moment after I received your scroll. Are even our memories marred by this disturbance?!?

?Whatever the case may be, I will aid you because I can.?


Judah returned, as promised, to his comfortable couch in his ancient apartment. He quickly thumbed through the pages of the Zaltrech’s notes, making very little sense of the scribbles which follow:

-M.M. KNOWS NO MERCY
-One world for all the girls.
-The Syndicate’s last stand!
-Do not cross the Saint. He knows his limits.
-reign of the spider-men
-PRINCESS? PRINCES? RETAINERS?
-Giant Hands.
-WHEN IS DIS00404???
-Orochi. Orochi. Orochi.
-why is the niggapocalypse?
-The Interplanar Talent Agency has gone Public.
-who are the ternity Numbers?

-They seek their sister. They seek Coffy Mackenzie.


| 9:05 PM

New Gotham Cathedral

?This is the safe house?? Johnny Viti had remembered the Falcones were Catholic by a technicality, but the Church was the farthest concern from his mind. Park sat in his pew stoically, seemingly oblivious to Johnny’s presence.

?And one wing of the other cherub was five cubits, reaching to the wall of the house: and the other wing was five cubits also, joining to the wing of the other cherub.?

?What are you talking about now?!?

?The cherub’s wings. They’re massive, and certainly beyond the ordinary. Ergo, creatures of God are supposed to inspire wonder in the mortal world. And yet, we human beings, the supposed masterpiece by midnight, are far from inspirational. Isn’t that a somber examination, Mr. Viti? Relax, You will not die in this house of God.?

?..fine. If you want to know, I maybe-sort-of believed in God when I was a kid. I didn’t know any better. I thought the Easter Bunny laid Easter eggs, I thought Jesus died for our sins, and I thought that our family owned legitimate businesses. I was nave.?

?A step in the right direction. More often than not,? Park continued, ?naivety is associated with idealism and positive efforts to improve the world. Why is it that men grow so cold with age? Regardless, the family ordered me to take you here to confess your sins. Afterward, I can return you to your family.?

?..whatever.? Johnny Viti walked over to the confessional booth. Noting that he didn’t leave immediately, Park smiled to himself and excused himself outside. Viti began pouring his heart out to the priest in attendance, regurgitating every sin and possible transgression that came to mind in the past five years. Johnny was compelled by a spirit of compassion, whimsy and curiosity.

This was as Park hoped. Johnny finally exited the cathedral, with Park on the sidewalk motioning him to come down. Viti was going to tell Park about everything he told the priest. He was going to discuss the possibility of becoming a Catholic again with the strange Korean man. However, before he could even open his mouth, Park knocked Johnny out with chloroform, dragged him into the nearest alley, and shot a bullet through his skull. Park then went back into the cathedral to confess his sins. His job tonight is complete.


#5

ternity Character Pool thread

ternity: Niggapocalypse - Niggas. We will be fairly liberal about this and you are allowed to sponsor any character so long as you are able to justify that s/he is a nigga. For example, “I will sponsor Aerith Gainsborough, who is a nigga because she lives her life hustling on the streets” will be valid.

ternity: This Bastard Universe - Characters who have either appeared in crossovers, belong to a shared universe, or are in a story where multiple universes are a plot device. For example, Ryu appears in Marvel vs Capcom and is eligible, Spider-Man exists in a shared universe (Marvel 616), while Edward Elric appears in a setting in which multiple universes exist (Fullmetal Alchemist’s anime continuity).

Note: different adaptations of the same work (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ original comic vs the cartoon from the 80s) do not count as alternate universes, and only crossed over characters in crossovers are eligible (Spawn is in Soul Calibur II, but you cannot sponsor Kilik through that rule [Soul Calibur and Tekken, however, co-exist in the same shared universe so you can pull him from there if you want]).

Also, there is a very good chance that the character you want to sponsor is eligible. All characters are sponsored at the discretion of the hosts. Remember, “same universe” rules are not in effect; you can sponsor anime Ed Elric and still portray him as the manga iteration, or you can portray him as a character with a different history and different appearance. However, we stress that the character should at least physically resemble his or her canon iteration, and that his or her personality be recognizable.

HEAVEN OR HELL. DECIDE THE DESTINY.


#6

ternity: World Building 101

In an Eternity tournament first, This Bastard Universe gives you the option of building the world the entirety of the tournament is set in before we finalize what rounds will appear. As is the crossover nature of the tournament, you are free to designate cities, countries, and continents and everything in-between on the world that will be referred to here on out as Earth-ternity. The locations that are established in this thread will then be available for use in your character back stories and may potentially be integrated into the tournament itself.

After Heart & Soul reaches its conclusion, the final confirmed World Map of Earth-ternity will be revealed. It is possible that locations culled from this thread may appear as rounds in either ternity: This Bastard Universe or ternity: Niggapocalypse. Build the world around you wisely! As this is a community building project, it is recommended that you discuss your changes to Earth-ternity by talking to members on mIRC channel #ri on the Xelium server, or by PMing myself.

All locations remain subject to host approval, but you can assume that everything here will be canonized for TBU unless you… really get out of whack. Let’s begin!


The West

North America
(Corresponds to North America)
A large continent in the northwest. It comprises the majority of the Realm of Technology, a region of the world where most humans never encounter supernatural phenomena, but are well versed in the use of advanced technology. Most Americans lack a sense of spirituality, so the only superhumans from North will have gained their powers from technological breakthroughs or genetic mishaps. Ironically enough, the ripe and impure souls of many North citizens also attract a great deal of demons, so they are likely to hide out in this land.

-> The United States of America
A large country in North America, among the wealthiest in all the world. It contains several important cities which are the cornerstones of international commerce. Besides demons, the United States also attracts a number of political and idealogical terrorists. States in this country include New Jersey, New York, Delaware and Florida, but may include as many as 50 states altogether.

–> New Gotham
A large, gothic city in New Jersey. New Gotham is a haven for vice and evil both man made and demonic, but its most recent generation has grown up with vigilantes, costumed or otherwise, dealing with many of New Gotham’s major threats. Legends are passed down of one such individual called “The Bat-Man,” although his existence is as of yet unconfirmed to the general populace. It is said that the Bat-Man may be the city’s greatest protector. In light of recent drastic improvements to New Gotham’s population, it has become an economic haven with many individuals from all across the country, and even the world moving here to begin new lives.

New Gotham is the “hub city” of This Bastard Universe, and all sponsors will eventually meet here, as if guided by fate…

–> Metropolis
A city in Delaware, it’s considered a “sister city” to New Gotham. Unlike New Gotham, Metropolis is much cleaner than its New Jersey counterpart, and considerably less happens here. Metropolis is known as a city of the arts, and many would-be musicians flock to Metropolis in droves. There are rumors of a superhuman vigilante in a red coat: some say his name is Dante, and the wildest rumors state that he is a demon. Whatever the case with the mysterious Dante may be, the nearby town of Smallville has had rumors of its own superhuman protector pop up in recent years. Are these two rumors related?

The Middle

Geisterra
(Corresponds to: Europe, Northern Africa, the Middle East)
A continent in the middle of the world map, connected to the neighboring Aristotlia. Geisterra comprises the Realm of Miracles, where many humans derive supernatural abilities granted as favors from a deity known only as “God.” Gesiterra is not as technologically advanced as the Realm of Technolgy, but Geisterrans have provided the foundation of arithmetic, language, and civilization as the world knows it. Geisterra is widely accepted as the birthplace of human beings.

-> Disgaea
Past one of the few naturally existing gateways between dimensions on Earth-ternity lies Disgaea, a land existing parallel to Geisterra. This Underworld is the birthplace of many demons, including the ones who hide out in North America. It is also a fiercely political landscape! Power struggles abound the poor tourists who stumble into this realm.

International Land Bridge
Interestingly enough, a long, thin strip of land runs uninterrupted around the world. Crossing into several continents, a person can potentially walk across the land bridge in a straight line and successfully traverse the entire world. As it crosses over into different temperates and climate zones, the ILB has a huge variety of environments. As the ILB runs through some countries’ territories, some countries have tried to close it off. However, after the last Great War, the each nation the ILB runs through have allocated their strip of land as Free Zones. However, small city states naturally exist along the ILB, as do the factories of many corporations. Depending on where you are on the ILB, it may either be a paradise on Earth or a hell unlike any other.

The East

Aristotlia
(Corresponds to: the Middle East, Asia)

The largest continent in the world, people born in Aristotlia are spiritually consigned to the four elements of Earth, Water, Fire and Air. The level of technology in Aristotlia is low, barring certain nations along the eastern rim. What it lacks in sophistication it makes up for majesty: several hundred deities live in the heavens above Aristotlia, many of which intervene in the human world on a regular basis. Because of this, it is also known as the Realm of Gods. Many of the world’s most strong-willed individuals hail from Aristotlia, a land where even the people are magical.

-> Japan
A nation on the eastern rim of Aristotlia which happens to intersect with the Realm of Technology. Matching, if not surpassing America in scientific sophistication, Japan is a nation where technology and mysticism intertwine in the most bizarre ways. For unknown reasons, Japan seems to be an important country in the face of Earth-ternity’s destiny.

-> Chongoa
A magical land which makes up the majority of Aristotlia. It is a world of constant political strife where whole nations are established and led to ruin in mere months. This is the worst place in the world to be impoverished, as the poor are often used as unwilling soldiers or cheap resources by the duelling nations. One of these competing states is Tusukuru, a nation renowned for its fairness and equality among its citizens and the popular nature of its leader, Emperor Hakuoro. One of the most notorious states is the Fire Nation, known for inciting mass murder on multiple fronts. While the rest of the world deplores the tyrants of Chongoa, they are bound to not interfere should the wrath of the gods be visited upon other nations from outside continents.


#7

**Side ternity
Episode 03: Sadist of the Slums
**

| 10:00 PM

King Lion Conbini

Coffy Mackenzie had no ride back home. Without either bus fare or a friend with a car, she traveled the now-dangerous streets of New Gotham on foot. She was only slightly concerned that Judah would punish her for breaking her curfew ? the fact that she didn’t win the LOL-Mart tournament sapped away all of her motivation to do much of anything.

Besides, of course, kicking a Coke can down the street. The sound of the aluminum rumbling across the street was not wholly unlike a drum & bass line. Coffy relished the industrial sound like nobility consumed opera. In-between kicking the can Coffy snapped her fingers, composing a ghetto instrumental at a tempo of roughly 75 BPM.

Other than that? Coffy came short as a competitor, and that’s all that really mattered.

I guess that’s it. I failed to assert myself as a political activist, my punk points are all but depleted, I couldn’t beatmatch turntables to save my life, and I couldn’t even beat the hell out of a bunch of retail salesmen. Only iced tea and beer can liberate me from depression.

Coffy heard the familiar chime of a convenience store door opening in the street across from her. It was the King Lion Conbini.

That’ll do. For reasons unknown to Coffy, she felt gravity’s pull on her as she walked into the store, as if the coils of destiny tightened around her bones. Fate or not, Coffy was absolutely determined to get an iced tea and beer. What Coffy saw however was relatively mundane: two lone men ransacking the seemingly abandoned store, a bevy of beer, snacks, magazines and condoms strewn haphazardly on the floor.

?Yo!? Coffy cried out. One of the men, a bald Puerto Rican in dress clothes, motioned to the other, an afroed black man in fatigues. They glared at Coffy, and then each other for a brief, albeit tense moment. Chino nodded, and Jamal walked toward the girl. ?Um, all I want’s iced tea. And, uh, beer. I’ll even pay for it if you want! Really!? Coffy said, mustering all the earnest she could.

?Believe it or not girl, we’re not robbing this place.? Jamal’s eyes wandered around the deserted store, and Coffy examined her surroundings just as well. ?The group that was in here before did. I’m looking for something else.?

?Oh. I see. Then you don’t mind if I -?

?Not at all.? Jamal shrugged.

?I found a carton of Camels under the counter.? Chino tossed the cigarettes at Jamal, the both of them grinning as if it were Ragnark.

?So the other guys left something behind.?

?‘Other guys?’ I know I should probably shut the hell up, but I’m curious.? Coffy said, intending to prod Jamal for answers. ?I heard there was a prison break. They’re the guys who got to this place before you, right??

?Yeah. Reason we’re here is because I know this store’s owner. He’s a Korean guy with connections to Paradigm up north. Figure we can find some way out of this hellhole through him.?

?Jamal, what was that guy’s name?? Chino asked from the store’s office, fumbling through a box of documents.

?Jun Jae-ryu.?

?One of his passports says that,? Chino answered.

?Wait. One of his passports??

?This other one says ‘Park Kun-wan.’?

?Sounds intriguing, really.? Coffy backed away, well aware that the less she knew about this mystery, the better for her wellbeing. Uh, anyway, it was nice chatting with you guys, but unless you’re up to being my drinking buddies, I’m out of here.? Coffy grabbed a paper bag and filled it with iced tea, imported beer, and M&M’s Minis. ?Hope you guys find what you’re looking for.?

?Me too, man. Me to-? Jamal heard Coffy’s bottles shatter as they collided with the floor. The girl he just met was raised from the ground by another woman, veiled by the shadow of the store, clutching her with one hand. Coffy dug her fingers through the fist that gripped her jugular, ripping them from her throat. She jabbed her attacker in the stomach, but learned the blow was ineffective only after the other woman had flung her across the store. Before Coffy could get up, and before Jamal and Chino could make sense of the situation, a giant mechanical carriage, a pod with large spider-legs, began tearing down the foundation of the building.

?You’re well outside your bounds, Coffy Mackenzie.? The woman back flipped, landing on top of the metal spider. ?New Gotham is my city now.? Coffy staggered over to the machine, her mouth oozing out the blood of internal wounds. The instigator was now bathed in the moonlight after wrecking the walls of the store into debris: she was dressed peculiar, wearing a leather jacket over a shirt made out of long white bandages stained with blood and black denim shorts. Her face, however, strongly resembled Coffy’s save for her unkempt raven-colored hair (with cute blood-red highlights).

?What the hell are you talking about?!? Coffy managed to yell out, in-between coughing out bursts of blood. ?What do you mean by ‘my bounds?!’ Who the hell are you?!? Each of Coffy’s interrogations drew more blood-coughs, but that wasn’t why it was painful for Coffy to ask these questions. A lingering memory began to constrict her thoughts, and she felt not only aware of who this person was ? she felt betrayed.

?I’m lucky the prison was torn asunder. I can cull the rage of a thousand emancipated inmates, and my strength is amplified a dozen-fold. You look like you’ve forgotten who I am? I’ll remind you: I’m Mayhem Mackenzie.?

Coffy grew pale from the blood loss and the revelation. Their shared name had opened up a bevy of possibilities. Was this woman a sister? A family member? Was their shared last name a title? But Coffy didn’t even have the power to ask this time. She had already been weakened from the LOL-Mart tournament, and now she needed time she couldn’t afford to heal from this new attack.

Chulo Chino gave it to her. With the sprint of his legs and the flick of a wrist, the Puerto Rican already impaled Mayhem’s bare legs with a dagger. Mayhem didn’t acknowledge him ? her spider machina swatted Chino away with one of its arms.

Jamal looked around to find anything that could be useful to him ? a fire axe (in case of emergencies). Jamal grabbed it and baited the spider, lunging the axe to the floor as soon as he could hack off one of its limbs. One ? two of the arms removed.

Mayhem’s expression remained the same as it was when she first entered. She grabbed the dagger lodged in her leg and flung it at Coffy’s heart.


| 10:00 PM

West End, New Gotham

Park made it to the front doors of his hi-rise apartment building. He stopped himself from entering, pausing to survey what had happened to the city behind him: the prison outbreak had evolved into a full scale riot, with an unheard of amount of Blacks and Latinos taking to guerrilla warfare and began to loot and pillage with no ideological compass to guide their rage.

Shards of window glass littered the streets, fused together by the embers of bonfires. Plasma TVs, car stereos and PlayStation 8s were their war trophies. Park wondered whether or not he would kill any of the rioters if his own life were threatened, bemused that he would consider even their lives innocent given the consequences. He thought about it for another moment before deciding, ?only if they were going to hurt someone else.?

As Park finished that thought, he saw something odd: a girl. A lone girl with long platinum hair, a white coat over her white summer dress, smooth pale skin, and a large red collar around her delicate neck. But it wasn’t her appearance that was unsettling to him. The girl was approaching the lot of rioters, her feet shuffling as light as air. She seemed unconcerned by the evident danger. In fact, she almost looked like she was skipping.

Park knew better to let this girl resembling an angel trot her way toward certain death. And yet, there was something so sacred about this girl that Park couldn’t simply place his hand on her shoulder and tell her to come inside where it was safe. Something about the way the moonlight and the bonfire’s reflection shone on her which implied some sort of divine quest.

I think I most regret not having a woman to protect. If I could do that just once, I can die content.

Park followed the girl twenty steps behind, his hands burrowed into his pockets. gripping onto the cold metal of his concealed handguns, prepared to spill blood.

The girl led the hitman to the throng of rioters, armed with baseball bats, bricks and broken bottles. The streets were up heaved with overturned cars and unconscious bodies. The noise of the night was polluted with the cries of pedestrian victims followed by a chorus of masculine grunts and rap lyrics. Fortunately, their attention was fixated on the high-end jewelry and department stores that dotted the commercial district of this upper class borough called the West End. Unfortunately, their attention was what the girl wanted all along. Park stood flinching as he saw her climb a car, despite it being on fire.

?GENTLEMEN!? she screamed to the masses through her passionate expression. As if through magic, everyone stopped to look at the girl, spellbound to silence. Park Kun-wan was just as divinely compelled to listen to her words. ?This is a world in turmoil, and you’ve done nothing but add to it! But if you take a moment to survey what you’ve accomplished, the possibilities present themselves! You are a force of unbridled power, and if rightly directed, you can right the world that wronged you! The distribution of wealth will be equalized! All who live in poverty will live comfortably! You will not be called to sacrifice your dreams ? rather, we will save this world by making our dreams come true! There will be enough to satisfy your thirst for riches and save this world, and many others like it!?

Everyone remained silent, absorbing the manifesto like a sponge soaking up malt liquor. Struck by the boldness of her words, Park Kun-wan was the first to speak.

?I’m curious. How do you intend to change the world?? Park’s eyes finally met with the girl’s, who smiled cryptically upon looking at him. ?Who are you, and why do you have this remarkable grandeur??

?I see. Introductions are in order. I’m Princess Bea Pin, Multiversal wanderer. I’ve dined on the nectar of epics throughout all the cosmos, and what is demotic to me is beyond the most inspired dreams of all in attendance, even among you who take ecstasy. My intention is to carry out a pet project, if you will. If all works well here, I’ll introduce my findings to other civilizations ? nay, to all civilizations! Kekekekekeke~?

The rioters began to encroach themselves around Bea, raising their fists in the air in approval.

?I dunno my nigga… this is gonna be some epic shit,? one of the voices among the crowd said.

?This is the most balla shit ever. Us niggas gonna run this world like the muthafuckin’ apocalypse!?

?It will be more than an apocalypse,? Princess Pin reverberated. ?It will be a Niggapocalypse!?


| 10:20 PM

King Lion Conbini

9. Breakbeat Era ? Bullitproof (Unkle Remix) ~ Ultra-Obscene

Coffy caught the blade between the fingers of her right hand. The slight grin on her face betrayed her sense of self-satisfaction, in light of her foe. ?Mayhem, was it?? Coffy raised her right sleeve, revealing not an arm, but a prosthetic limb attached to a solid metal cylinder, a piston attached to rotating gears with a slight mist of steam trailing out of it. ?I have my own mechanical gifts.?

?Damn, girl. What the hell? Are you alright?? Jamal asked, readying the axe in his hands.

?I’m well aware of your gifts, Coffy Mackenzie. I just want to make sport of killing you.?

?Jamal right?? Coffy asked.

?How’d you know my name??

?Overheard him say it,? Coffy motioned to Chino who was still knocked out, his body stretched out against a wall. ?Get him out of here and just stay back. If I need you I’ll ask you to split her skull,? Coffy warned.

?Enough!? Mayhem leapt from her mech, pouncing on Coffy with an outstretched fist, connecting the blow onto her stomach. Mayhem followed up by striking Coffy with her elbow, and back-fisting her face into an open refrigerator door lined with milk. Coffy took a moment to remove her head from the fridge, and Mayhem paused briefly, her curiosity piqued by Coffy’s lack of resistance.

?Milk,? Coffy finally said. ?I haven’t had a glass of it since Monsanto began injecting their cows with hormones. You know, there’s trace amounts of pus in milk??

?Did I just knock the last vestige of sense from your skull? Why are you telling me this??

?Because I might as well. I’ve already won this fight.? Coffy bounced away, sliding behind Mayhem and locking her shoulders around her opponent’s own. ?I gauged your strength just now. You’re shit weaker.? Coffy grabbed the startled Mayhem by her torso and chucked her body at the spider. Coffy’s legs moved in a wild fervor, springing inside the mecha and slamming her pistoned fist into Mayhem’s face a baker’s dozen times. Not giving her the chance to counter attack, Coffy leapt out of the machine and grabbed one of its torn limbs, with an edge sharpened to a point. She no longer cared about Mayhem’s intentions or origins ? she was driven instead to slay the woman. Before Coffy could slash Mayhem with the spider’s leg, the mech curled itself into a ball, sealing Mayhem outside.

?I’d kill you, but your friend went and debilitated my mech. You’re right about my strength disappearing, but that won’t matter when I’m fucking you tenderly in every orifice with my Almost Safe Machine! You have a temporary extension to your life, Coffy Mackenzie!? The mechanical ball hovered out of the demolished convenience store, leaving Coffy, Jamal and Chino alone.

?..did she just say she was going to fuck me tenderly?? Coffy finally asked Jamal.

?I think so. I don’t know about you, but we’re still wanted criminals and we need to get the hell out of dodge. Uh, I heard what you said about Monsanto though.?

?Really?? Coffy asked, piqued.

?Yeah. I’m in Green War.?

?Whoa!? Coffy yelled out, now visibly giddy. ?You’re a Green War member? I used to be, till I got broke and couldn’t afford the magazine subscription anymore.?

?That’s too bad. We were gonna plan a raid on LOL-Mart in a couple months…?

?LOL-Mart?! Oh, man.? Coffy lowered her head, placing her palm over her face. ?I work there now.?

?What?! That’s a shame girl. My sympathies.?

?Yeah, yeah. It ain’t permanent, but for now I’m stuck in the belly of the beast. Or at least I will be till I’m killed by a psychopath.?

?Got any idea what that was all about?? Jamal asked. ?She doesn’t look like a corporate shadow agent.?

?No clue. Probably someone with a grudge from my past or something. Uh, sorry about inadvertently putting your lives in danger and all.?

?Don’t worry about it. The life of a revolutionary is cluttered with turmoil.? Jamal combed through his afro with his pick, compelled to look at the stars littering the sky. ?Our spilled blood will only ferment the future’s peace, y’know??

?That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.? Coffy turned around, and began facing the street ahead of her. ?Let’s split.?

?Understood. But wait ? what’s your MySpace??

?Oh. myspace.com/pistol_coffy. Pistol-underscore- c-o-f-f-y.?

?Got it. See you in the future, Coffy Mackenzie.? Jamal took Chino’s shoulder and placed it over his back, both heading the path opposite Coffy’s.

Dammit! I’m even later than before now. Judah’s gonna kill me…


| 10:32 PM

Wayne Manor

The communications system was nothing less than a modern marvel, sprawling across the caverns underneath Wayne Manor. Thin LCD screens some fifty feet high dotted across the stalactites with abandon. There was one man sitting at a terminal, studying all the information presented to him ? news reports, surveillance footage, GPS satellite maps, two-way radios, and even internet message boards ? his surgical precision married with a madman’s intent. The man is known in some circles as Bruce Wayne. To another community altogether, he is called the Oracle.

A masked blond boy in a bright red costume resurfaced behind Wayne.

?I’m glad you’re alright.? Bruce swiveled his chair around, looking up at the boy.

?I did what I could, but I’m sorry I had to retreat. Those guys very nearly killed me!?

?No need to apologize. I can feel your sincerity Jason, but you’re still new at this and I don’t expect you to save the world, especially by yourself. I’m sorry about that.?

?It’s not your fault Terry and Steph were resting. Wouldn’t mind it if we could tag out now, though.?

?Understood. Rest easy.? The boy known as Jason Todd evaporated into a dark haze. The ether hovered above Wayne’s head, soon permeating his body. A moment after, two other bursts of mist spewed forth from Bruce Wayne’s mind, reconstituting into a tall young man in a sleek black costume and a blonde girl in the same bright outfit as Jason’s. ?Terry? Stephanie? Are you ready??

They nodded. Code-named Batman and Spoiler respectively, they rushed out of Wayne Manor. The Oracle turned back to his terminal, trying to ignore the individual essences churning within his mind.


#8

+

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v624/jsg/hackslash.jpg

**=

YES**


#9

Posts now updated with links to the streaming soundtrack.


#10

You know what time it is?

SHOWTIME.


#11

Auron: Ace Attorney.

That is all.


#12

(Mmn, taste that copypasta? Now with editsauce.)


Old Gotham, “Paradigm City” (Replaces New York City)
Forty years ago, it was called Old Gotham, sister city to Gotham and Metropolis, but its status as an economic hub all ended Forty years ago during one of the greatest catastrophies in American history.

Old Gotham was a mecca for scientists and weapons developers from around the world, specializing in the production of military-grade mechanized combat machines under the designation of “Megadeus” which were designed to be the American counterpart to the Japanese-Based Gundam model mechs. Headed by the Paradigm Group, the development of the Megadeus was hilighted by a special program known as Garden, whereupon children whom would be raised in secret to pilot the Megadeus and likewise be sold along with the military hardware were genetically engineered to have a special empathic link with their Megadeus.

However, after the first line of Megadeus was deployed and field-tested, their strength of arms was enought make several national governments take pause and realize that with America re-gaining the foothold in giant robot technology could destabalize eastern military equilibrium.

No one is certain what caused The Event that changed Old Gotham, there were so many willing participants who could be to blame, but many believe the entire chaos was generated not by foreign aggressors, but by a rebellion of the artificial humans created to pilot the Megadeus.

Regardless of the truth behind The Incident, Old Gotham burned. Every last production model Megadeus rebelled on the city, close to one hundred mechanized weapons platforms marching into the city, destroying everything in their path. The battle that destroyed Old Gotham only took a single night, and when the city was near leveled to the ground, the Megadeus initiated a self-destruct sequence to finish their task.

In the morning following the event, it was discovered that a neurotoxin had been released into the air during the battle, and those whom survived the massacre suffered from extreme cases of damage to their temporal lobe, missing vast portions of their memories of anything that had happened prior to the incident. They were essentially blank slates, awakening in shelters, places of residence or simply the street.

Due to where the Megadeus chose to self-destruct, Old Gotham was surrounded in a sixty mile radius by a vat desert that once was a series of burroughs and districts connecting Old Gotham to New Jersey and Massachusettes.

Due to the events of The Incident, a large portion of the city is also submerged in the waters just off the east coast. During The Ivent, a large portion of the city sank into the sea, or both, forming a new coastline. Many of the taller buildings can still be seen protruding from the water. The submerged city also acts as a large artificial reef, and attracts a large amount and variety of fish and other oceanlife, which is harvested to help feed the city’s population.

Following what was considered the “Greatest Disaster in American History” the survivors of Old Gotham were leaderless, and due to the desert and urban ruin relief efforts were stymied to great degrees. Three years after the Incident, while over 80% of the city was still in ruin and people lived in the streets, a man by the name of Alex Rosewater, AKA “The Kingpin” rose to power in Old Gotham. Claiming to have not suffered from the memory loss of The Incident, Rosewater commanded a vast financial power dating back to the Rockafella family. While the American government was pouring billions into the relief effort in Old Gotham, Rosewater came up with a plan of his own.

Propositionning the American Government, Rosewater suggested cutting off Old Gotham like a gangrenous wound. He offered to purchase Old Gotham city from the American government and secede from the nation in order to squash any further money being put into the sinkhole of debt that was the ruins of Old Gotham.

After a year and a half of debate, and seeing that Old Gotham was virtually a wasteland, the President authorized the first non-violent secession of American territories. After this evenbt, Old Gotham was renamed “Paradigm City” after the Paradigm Group, a financial institution headed by Rosewater. Paradigm City became a city-state, with fields immediately surrounding the city (within driving distance) where crops are grown to feed those within.

Passing the burden to his son, Alexander Rosewater Junior, the senior Alex Rosewater now only referred to as Kingpin retired from the Paradigm Group thirty two years after the incident, leaving his son in charge of Paradigm City. Now, decades after the incident, Paradigm City has grown to be a self-sustaining city state on the American east coast, and is often used as a gateway to the american country by all manner of subversive forces, due to its very difficult to patrol borders.

In order to segment the rebuilding effort and protect the people of Paradigm City from itself, the city was segregated into a series of enormous domes that housed “fully repaired” districts of the city. Each dome has its own “sun,” a source of light that orbits along the outside of the dome which rises and sets just as the natural sun would while the glass shields of the dome block out all natural sunlight.

The old underground subway and maintenance systems were abandoned after The Incident, as everyone was afraid to go below the surface of the city due to the instability there. Many believe, rightly, that hidden secrets from before The Incident lurk in these unexplored warrens. Secret laboratories and other installations from before The Incident are tucked away in the underground, where none dare look.

Alex Rosewater and his son in secret have begun re-development of the Megadeus project, unknowing that a descendant of one of the artificial humans creafted to pilot the Megadeus had discovered one of his own…

Culture
The inhabitants of Paradigm City appear to only remember bits and pieces of what religion was like before the Incident and have little contact with the outside world en-masse. No one (rather, almost no one) clearly remembers what Christmas is at all, and several old cathedrals now stand in ruins, their original purpose unknown (some of the elderly occasionally feel compelled to stand in front of them and sing scraps of hymns, but they don’t clearly remember why they do this). Half based on vague memories of a holiday on December 25th, and half as a celebration to commemorate the founding of Paradigm City (which happened around the same time of the year), Christmas Day is now celebrated as “Heaven’s Day”. Heaven’s Day is apparently an almost entirely secular holiday, which started out as an annual celebration of the founding of the city by giving bread and wine to the poor. As the city grew more prosperous over the course of 40 years, people started giving presents to the ones they loved, and it grew into a commercial shopping extravaganza not unlike modern day Christmas celebrations. The inhabitants of the city still put up generic Christmas decorations like decorated Christmas trees and streamers, but they don’t really know the underlying reason behind all of this. However, Alex Rosewater at least knew that the real reason for the celebration was that “it’s the day God’s son was born”. Whether he was referring to a memory of the original holiday, or to himself in comparison to his father is unknown.

Megadeus
Forty years prior to the events of the series, Old Gotham was turned into a vast desert wasteland and the survivors were left without memories. The megadeuses are remnants of the previous civilization, a lost technology few citizens of Paradigm know how to control. The word is a blend of the Greek Megas, meaning “Great”, and the Latin deus, meaning “god”.

Megadeus are enormous and varied mecha that are armed and designed with a somewhat anachronistic style of weaponry uitable for fourty year old technology. They come in a variety of designs, all based on three specific archetype models.

Lazy Wikipedia Link Here


#13

Hehe~

Silence, traitor.

^_^;


#14

Esaka: One of the main cities in Japan, Esaka is also home to some of the most powerful fighters in the world, including the famous “Hero Team” from the King of Fighters Tournament held annually in random locations all around the world. The city itself isn’t as impressive as the actual people that live here, however. Some days, if you’re lucky, you can see a public fight in various places around the city, mostly instigated for the hell of it. However, it’s the secret fights that are the most dangerous-and fun- to watch. These fights usually take place between Kyo Kusanagi and Iori Yagami, two flameweilders whose story spans over 1800 years…


#15

Dante/Kyo Kusanagi Team-up…

Fire and guns.

'Nuff said. >=3


#16

Possible Choices for Niggapocalypse:

~ Gilgamesh (FFXII) the Power Gamer’s Choice ~

Because he just drops by and takes all your shit.

~ Yuffie (FFVII) the Ruler of All the World Choice ~

Because she steals your materia and conquers worlds with them.
**
~ The Mooninites (ATHF) the STFU Choice ~**

Because all we say and do is right.

~ Darth Vader, by James Earl Jones (YouTube) the Badass Choice ~

[media=youtube]6A0rwG39Jzk"[/media]

~ Suzumiya Haruhi (Haruhi) the Bitch’s Choice ~

Because she pimps Kyon for alimony.

~ Saber (Fate: Stay Night) the Laziest Choice ~

Because she whores herself out to Shirou the pimp and has sex while the world’s on fire.


#17

I’m going to play Sasuke!

Oh wait, I’m hosting this shit. Nevermind.


#18

(copy/paste)

Hidden Monster Island

A rather large island near Geisterra that’s roughly bigger than Hispaniola (A Caribbean island in our Earth that is home to the nations of Haiti and the Dominican Republic, look it up on a map), Hidden Monster Island gets its name from the intricate fog system the island uses to keep regular humans out. On this island, many reformed monsters and demons live in peace and harmony, desiring only to be left alone by the human population and their more malevolent brethren. These folks, not ones for subtlety, gave their new home an appropriately blunt name.

The island is technically a peninsula, however. It’s connected to where France would usually be, but the thin strip of land that connects the island to the mainland is submerged underwater, deliberately done so by various kappas and mermen to help keep their new home’s location a secret to prying human eyes.

Points of interest:

Castlevania - This large castle is the home of the ruler of Hidden Monster Island. Count Dracula is a fair and just leader, and prefers to let the day-to-day operations of the island be dealt with by his trusted aides. Dracula can usually be found sitting on his throne, drinking fine wines from the Castlevania Wine Cellar and watching his massive HDTV. He also has enough money to afford a PlayStation 3.

Elm Street - One of the most influential streets on the entire island, this is the home to many of Hidden Monster Island’s most prestigious families, such as the Addams, the Munsters, and the Valentines. Freddy Krueger, owner of the island-wide chain of Freddy’s Mattresses and Beds, also lives on this street, as does Beetlejuice.

Camp Crystal Lake - This summer camp is the most popular one on the entire island. It’s run by Jason Vorhees, who makes sure the campers have the most fun experience they can. He even arranges for field trips to the human world, typically visiting selected locations in Geisterra and Aristotlia.

LOL-Mart - The local branch of this multiversal-wide chain of retail superstores is managed by a handpicked minion of Cthulhu, an owner of the chain (although he is NOT the CEO. That’d be Samuel Lolton, who founded the store and is a majority owner).

Famous Cybie’s Place for Ribs - Even monsters love Baby Back Ribs. This famous restaurant, a Hidden Monster Island institution in the Erebus District, is run by a Cyberdemon who left Hell in order to pursue his life long dream of being a barbecue chef. This Cyberdemon, who adapted the name of “Cybie” and wears a signature black cowboy hat, is know for his discriminating tastes, and serves only the finest racks of ribs. The racks he deems “uneatable” are blasted away by his rocket launcher.


#19

This whole thing reminds me of a possibly insane and top tier MTCFF Ultra.


#20

Geese Howard
-pimp (iirc, he did bang a nun to conceive Rock), wears jewelry, leads a bunch of gangstas

Edit- Not to mention problems with de Englash