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RIFT Arena - R1 P1Rock and Roll
Kicking Up Dust
Carbo was not happy. Sitting in the middle of what the giant-bouldered Carbo had told him was a cafeteria, wearing his janitor's uniform, he reflected on what he'd gotten into. After being informed that he'd passed the auditions, apparently making hippos choke was a crowd pleaser, he's also been informed what his price had been. Not Armory property and not anything in the hollow. It was his heart. His clear diamond, enchanted, only thing keeping him moving, heart.
He'd intended to go through with this tournament anyway to reclaim property so he wouldn't be dismantled, but now he had a much more personal reason to be the victor. And by the end of it he would deliver a thumping to Fred one way or another.
The cafeteria was fairly lively, though by Carbo's standards it may as well have been a mob considering how often he'd met other people in the Armory. There was a giant green monster, humans of all shapes and sizes (including a stuttering kid), an
Rift Arena - AuditionIn Which a Janitor Duels a Hippo With a Nutty Frog
Mop mop mop went the mop as Carbo the janitor swung it back and forth like a pendulum as he danced along to some hip song playing from his stereo on the cart. He lifted the mop up and splashed the head back into his bucket before making even more of the white floor wet, backing up as he went with a butt shimmy. A large expanse of shiny floor lay before and in front of him, populated by rows and rows of pedestals that stretched off beyond the horizon. If the blue ceiling, curiously matching his janitor uniform, had been quite as far away as the walls of the Armory at the End of Time, Carbo might even have been able to pretend he was outside. Instead the ceiling was a mere twenty feet above, with glowing panels set into it to light the Armory and allow Carbo to see which part of the floor he had not yet mopped by its sheen.
Carbo stopped mopping for a moment as his mop bumped against the base of a pedestal. A shimmering hole in sp
Rift Arena - CarboWhy do I have to fill out these forms? I've got floors to mop. Then again it has been a couple centuries since I took a break. Hrm, guess I can play around a little. Not like I won't pop back when I'm supposed to be.
Name: Carbo, and I will thump anyone calling me Harpo. Wasn't funny when Curator did it and you're probably a lot fleshier so I can thump you.
Age: I don't age. Nothing in the Armory does. This counting prior to sentience?
Gender: Male I suppose. I like the way females look, but I'm not grafting geodes to my chest any time soon.
Race: Do I put golem here or dwarf? Or dwarven-made golem? Well either one works.
Price: My heart. Made of diamond and the focal point to the spell that animates me. If it breaks then not only is it going to destroy a lot of things from arcane backlash, but I'll just be a non-moving statue made of fractured or broken jewels, with sentience. Sounds boring.
Battlecries*: "Mop!" "Broom!" "Quit bleeding on my clean floors!" "A thumping!"
TBOS - LS R2A True Hero Must Fall
Fred was lost. Well, more lost than before. After he'd finally left the lab he'd attempted to give the zombie a burial, only to have to run when a tank rolled into view with its barrel pointing at him. When he'd stopped running everything had gone...noir.
Colors had vanished from the world, dividing it into black and white. Fred felt kind of claustrophobic between pure black buildings that arched into a slightly blacker than black sky. The street was shrouded in black shadows with any semblance of light depicted as blazing white. Faceless people in fedoras and trenchcoats slowly walked down sidewalks, not bothering so much as a glance for the zombie as their bodiless narrators spoke of dark cities and corruption and dames and yada yada in depressed tones.
Fred gave them a wide berth and silently filched a paper from a newstand with a single downtrodden proprietor manning it. He didn't so much as look at Fred, being far too busy getting
TBOS - LS R4Two Birds, A King, and A Puppet
Regis didn't know how long he rode through the desert, scenery flashing by. The sun had set a long time ago, cloaking everything in darkness with no moon to see by. The bike itself had a bright light emanating from its front but it was next to useless with the speed he was going. More than once the bike had swerved of its own accord to avoid some sort of obstacle.
Somewhere between twilight and dawn was when Regis felt the shift. The ground dropped from underneath him and the world spiraled into an unseen drain, pulling him along for the ride. He held on to the bike and bobbed up and down in the tumultuous reality like a ship in a storm.
Colors began to separate from one another and define themselves in dark-toned shapes. In moments the chaotic oblivion had resolved into the foyer of a candle-lit mansion. Towering, shattered glass windows let in the furious storm outside, scattering puddles around the blood-spattered wooden floor.
TMD - R4 Rosemarri v. MadicanOuter Spaces and Inner Places
Author was in a good mood. Hard to blame him I guess. We'd left the mall behind and found ourselves standing in a large cafeteria plated in chrome and eggplant. Wait what?
I looked around for any diners but saw nothing and no one. Just bizarre architecture like chairs with weasels for legs, columns of English majors that held up the crushing weight of a ceiling made of Real Life (how did I know that?), and colorful mosaics on the floor depicting a duel between an ork and a scraggly man spraying fungal cream at it. Oh, and planets made of cheese that drifted by Jello windows.
Author stepped forward into the cafeteria and his silver smile appeared. "Ah, haven't been here in some time. Feels quobbly."
I fixed Author with a searching look and said, "Where exactly is here? And what the hell's a quobbly?"
Author looked out the window as Jim poked at one of the jiggling windows. "A quobbly is a wiffle of mash and plums, freshly squeezed of course,"
TBOS - R2The Hero's Lie
The Villain's Truth
Sparrow fiddled with the amulet around her neck as she walked next to Regis. Ahead of them the newly-crowned Summer King was leading them to the banquet hall after he'd had two of the motorcycles custom made for the two outlanders. Regis had been very impressed at the technology. Sparrow as well, but less so. Not so strange when one hailed from a steam-driven world and the other from the future.
Regis kept looking around, taking in the mixture of gold design and chrome machinery that comprised the Faerie Palace. But even despite his interest, Regis was not easily adaptable to it. When he had tried using the bathroom, Sparrow and the King had both needed to yell instructions at him through the door for five minutes of trial and error. Which was mostly why he was keeping his mouth shut right now.
The two of them kept walking, and each thought the same thing. They'd been sent here to repair the Book of Stories, but how were they supposed to do tha
TMD - R3 - Ganth vs Madican"Author you said the squid would be out of commission for a few days," I said, trudging through an empty mall. Any other day I'd be sitting on one of those wooden benches as a spectator to the time-honored battlefield of bargain hunting. Every coupon a bullet in the magazine, swiping credit cards like clean strokes of the blade, and each bag a spoil of war. Hard to believe most people just saw a bunch of boring shoppers rather than battle-hardened warriors, some of whom had learned ritualistic techniques passed down from generation to generation.
Author idly grabbed a potted plant with a tassel from his robe and tossed it into a fountain as we passed. Why? Because he could. "And I did say the squid, fine Sqrk but you're calamari all the same, had a strong mind. Do you really think I want him in my head any more than you do? Yes, yes, you can be useful we'll just hurl you at the next opponent and hope for the best how about that? Don't get snippy with me you bit of sushi."
TBOS - R1Fantasyfreak18 vs Madican
The Crown, the Bird, and the Joker
Skyscrapers reached for a dirty, cloud-covered sky like skeletal fingers from the grave. Decay was evident in the structures to varying degrees, some with only a few broken windows and others with their rusted girders exposed to the heavy, putrid air.
But there was life on the streets. People clad in filthy rags and robes wearing air filters to cover their faces. The strange thing was that the filters contrasted heavily with the people they adorned. Suspiciously clean and far more advanced than the primitive wooden clubs and rusted blades they wore at their sides.
The clouds twisted without warning and a bright arrow streaked downward from beyond them, falling towards the center of the city. It collided with the street and erupted in a flash that disturbed nothing except air as its occupant was released from within.
Regis stood in a world wholly different from his own. Even the people who had seen his arrival knew that
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