...dammit i made a new post instead of editing this one. That's a new screw-up for me.
Posted: Sun May 08, 2016 8:31 pm
Bad. a**.
Sascha double, then triple-checked the evening's activity at the ASSJACKED booth. Were they really allowed to ride these things? And then hit each other off of them!? It seemed too good to be true.
Sascha picked out a snowmobile that had already seen some bloodshed. Gleefully, he painted over the former riders' tags with his own bright yellow symbol. They'd definitely see him coming. For good measure, he also spray painted his jousting pole. Nothing like whacking someone with a stick covered in wet paint.
It took him a couple of false starts and a shaky lap around the perimeter of the field to get the hang of the controls. He supposed it was a little like riding a bike... if he'd ever ridden a bike before. It had handlebars, right? More importantly, it had an engine.
And Sascha had a target. There was a blueblood making a fuss further towards the center of the arena. She looked... kind of familiar. It was enough to give Sascha pause, but then he figured most bluebloods looked pretty much the same. Lucky for her, however, she was about to start looking a little more... yellow.
Sascha cranked the throttle on his snowmobile with one hand and switched his grip to that of a javelin throw. "YO! PIGTAILS! HEAAAADS UP!" Sascha called over the roar of his snowmobile's engine as it jerked into movement.
The machine took off like a rocket. Sascha masked his surprise with a whoop of excitement. While he'd seen the mounds of snow between himself and his victim, he hadn't thought to factor in his momentum. His snowmobile went temporarily airborne.
If Sascha couldn't keep himself aloft, there was no hope for an entire sporting vehicle. The snowmobile crashed back onto its skis, sideswiping Malice's ride as Sascha bludgeoned her with the polearm. The force of the blow spattered wet paint across the snow with a sharp, wet "CRACK!"
Sascha's shaky landing spun his snowmobile in a circle as he decelerated across an ice patch. He came to a stop facing his handiwork, but a little too dizzy to make out what had become of Malice.
Psykgi laughed. Moobeast feces?! That was a new one! She liked it. She decided to let loose - and why not? Who wouldn't let loose on a speeding snowmobile? Why shouldn't she let loose a little? This was a festival, and festivals were times to let out all the pent up whatevers. That was healthy. This was fun!
She whooped gleefully as she charged towards the greenblood. She probably should have evacuated, or at least turned aside, but no. Psykgi had very little fear, and she was having too much fun.
Perhaps a foolish amount.
She was flung from the vehicle, landing on the hard snow. She got up quickly, used to hard knocks and quick recoveries (in case the greenblood wanted to try to finish her off, or some such thing. Always good to think about), only to see that her opponent was, also, thrown.
A tie.
"Well, gosh! That was a good run!" Psykgi said, inspecting the damage as she rubbed an injured shoulder. It wasn't too bad - it would probably run.
COME AT ME BRO
quite uneventful
NP, hon! They'll have to have another go at each other tomorrow!
Quote:
IM UP FOR ONE MORE OF THESE
Posted: Sun May 08, 2016 11:06 pm
She scrunched up her face as the colder troll dragged her towards the direction of a snowmobile. She had to laugh at the "use your eyes" comment, how, take them out and throw them at the competition? Actually could she even manage that since she couldn't even see where her eyes were located? And anyway what was with the lowblood junk? What the hell did that even mean? She'd heard trolls say it before, calling her lowblood, but she had no idea what that even meant or how it applied to her.
After feeling her way and finally climbing on, using the coldblooded troll's back as a vantage point on where to go. She gripped their jousting stick and placed one arm on her riding companion, keeping very little thought to the comfort level of her partner. it wasn't long after they were set that they were off. The action was over before they knew it. She heard coughing, engines and then some other noises that, may have been them winning? But neither her nor the coldblooded wonder she'd picked up had been knocked off.
"Hey, froskele, did we win? Did they look stupid?" She asked.
These things looked way more expensive than Alifax had thought. How many beetles was Sarcel investing into this thing? Maybe he could convince her to let him...take one. Home. With him. Afterwards. They weren't going anywhere, right?
He grabbed a dummy and tossed it atop a snowmobile carelessly. What? It'd been designed for this. Oh, yeah, it needed a weapon, too, for fairness' sake. He outfitted it with a spear, and then boarded his own snowmobile, which he wasn't going to decorate.
How did you drive this thing again? Well, it didn't even really matter: it wasn't like the dummy could drive. Eventually he found the ignition, and he jabbed his lance into the dummy's stomach viciously.
Okay, it had fallen off. Good going, self. This had been a very uneventful day.
He ignored the squabbling going on beside him. Getting involved in that kind of s**t was never a great idea.
He'd never jousted before but it sounded freaking awesome. Cerpin adjusted his cap with a grin before hurrying over to get in line to drive one of the snowmobiles. This was already shaping up to be the best booth he'd been to all day. C'mon, he was getting to drive a snowmobile!
He revved the engine once he was on the machine and seemed to burst with excitement over how badass he had to look right now. He was king of the world on this thing! But actually, he was just a guy jousting a dummy. He pondered this sad thought and hoped one day he would get that feeling for real, that kind of power and true confidence.
He probably should've paid more attention to his steering really though. Cerpin crashed straight into his dummy at such an angle that his jousting rod threw him overboard and straight into a pile of snow. A couple of spectators laughed and heckled him from a distance.
"Pole vaulting was yesterday, moron!" Assholes.
Yamashii
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Green Minuet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
8, 1Total: 9 (2-20)
Green Minuet
Greedy Trickster
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Posted: Mon May 09, 2016 2:41 am
HEY I'M Kursha AND WELCOME TO ASSJACKED Username: Green Minuet Trolls Name: Kursha Vidari I hereby state that Sarcel Cincil is not accountable AND responsible for my well being in these trials and that I amnotresponsible for any and all injuries I may sustain during my time here.
At the sight of the ASSJACKED booth, Kursha did something he had never done before: he swallowed his pride and admitted to being wrong.
Forget everything he had ever thought or said about Sarcel Cincil. She was downright devious. Presenting herself as a bundle of nerves and insecurities, she had fooled everyone, including him. A mild-mannered goody-two-shoes at the best of times and a pathetic pushover at the worst, the most she was good for was a couple of laughs. But the blueblood at the booth before him was neither mild-mannered nor a pushover. She was daring. She was capable. She was, for lack of a better word, a complete and total badass.
Not wanting to draw attention to himself just yet, Kursha waited until she was distracted before filling out a form and making the necessary revisions. When he was finished, he slipped away to where the main event was being held. Namely where the snowmobiles were parked.
Briefly, he wondered just how many beetles Sarcel had tucked away to be able to afford this kind of machinery. Even if she had rented, it could not have been cheap. Besides, what if someone drove off with one? The thought dangled in front of him like a piece of bait wiggling on a hook. It was very, very tempting. But she might not see it for the joke that it was, and he did not want to ruin her already fragile opinion of him on a whim. That did give him another idea though.
He stashed it for later. For now, there were dummies to joust.
Grabbing a bike and a lance, Kursha made his way to where the training dummy had been erected. Once there were twenty yards or so between him and the target, he hopped on the snowmobile. He spent a moment familiarising himself with the controls: engine, lights, brakes, gas (the engine roared with surprising ferocity, and for a moment he felt sheepish), gears, signals. When at last he felt ready, he extended his lance and stomped on the gas.
The snowmobile shot off at a breakneck pace. Almost literally.
Kursha lost track of what was happening. One moment he had been in the snowmobile, braced for combat, and the next he was entangled with the training dummy, lance protruding out of the snow beside him and the snowmobile... well...
Despite the sudden soreness he felt, Kursha burst out laughing. The snowmobile had rocketed off into one of the snow piles from the night before, fully burying it. It was almost invisible, save for the gaping hole from where it had entered the snowdrift. A couple of stray snowflakes drifted down. There was a crunch. As Kursha tried to calm himself, the rest of the snow suddenly collapsed, essentially sealing it in. It sent him into a fresh spasm of laughter.
He could not have planned it better.
Disentangling himself from the dummy, Kursha limped back to where he had last seen Sarcel at her booth. He greeted the blueblood looking like a mess, covered in snow, face stained with tears, and shaking with laughter.
“Hey Sarce!” he managed between giggles. “I think someone... pft... might have taken off with one of your snowmobiles.” Leaning on the counter, he covered his face with his hand to try and disguise his mirth. It was largely ineffective. “Great booth!” he offered after a moment, voice pitching.
Melancholies
+1 ❤ with Kursha whether you like it or not. Two more until you trigger a relationship event.
"Oh wow!" He'd never jousted before but it looked interesting! And by that he meant intimidating. But he was here now and ready to see if he'd survive the impact. Would it be worse than the pain of that hellish hot chocolate from yesterday?
Unfortunately for him, Nucleo did not understand how to drive his snowmobile and veered off target. By the time he realized what was going on, he made a sharp turn to try and correct it and sped up in panic to get the machine going back on track.
This was the wrong choice.
"Oh froth-" With a loud crack the young boy drove straight into the dummy and knocked himself off! Groaning in pain, his face flushed green from not having made any scratch on the dummy at all!
What had begun as a fun experiment was ending in shame and internal bleeding.
Sounded about right for Bloodfest.
Doutei
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Melancholies
Springtime Teenager
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Posted: Mon May 09, 2016 2:52 am
Sarcel smiles at you. The past few nights seemed a little strange and risky, but today there's nothing out of the ordinary that greets you at the booth's entrance. In fact, she's urging you behind the counter to the door that was previously tapped off, giving you a rather heavy ball. Suddenly, you're plunged into darkness.
"Welcome to pitch-black medicine room dodgeball!"
There's the blow of a whistle, and someone shouting THROW!
DDDDDDDODGEBALL!
You have 15HP! The goal is to knock some teeth out before you get knocked out! C'mon it'll be fun.
First things first, make a starting post where you don't roll. This is to allow players to funnel in; after all, you can't hit anyone who isn't there! After that, roll a 1d6 to see what happens! Keep in mind that every time you roll, you lose your ball (unless otherwise stated!). When you lose your ball, you have to roll the same 1d6 until you land on an even (2, 4, 6) number! Then you have "picked up a ball" and you can continue to roll for damage normally!
If your roll says you hit somebody, then quote anyone who is currently participating! Anyone! It can be random!
1
Oh no! You tripped flat on your face! Take 3 damage and lose your ball! Weemp womp ):
2
You stumbled pretty hard, but you managed to hold onto your ball- at the cost of not throwing it. Take 1 damage, but keep your ball!
3
You managed to launch your ball! Quote somebody in the thread to do 1 damage! Be sure to include damage dealt in your post! You have now lost your ball.
4
You're charging around with reckless abandoned, and just slammed right into someone! You keep your ball, but deal 2 damage to yourself and to someone else! Quote somebody in the thread! Be sure to include damage dealt in your post!
5
You managed to launch your ball! Quote somebody in the thread to do 2 damage! Be sure to include damage dealt in your post! You have now lost your ball.
6
How did you manage this?! You managed to throw your ball into someone, and get your ball back at the same time! How cool is that? You dealt 2 damage! Quote somebody in the thread! Be sure to include damage dealt in your post!
Again, Tickets will be 1. Raffled among participating users, 2. Given to whoever survives the longest, and 3. RP pick!
Please note that I'll be rolling the day 2 tickets when I get home from work. Sorry for this and we hope you understand Mels' piss poor choice to get three hours of sleep!
Posted: Mon May 09, 2016 11:07 am
Sarcel had looked away for two seconds. Two seconds.
Which proved to be a mistake, but oh well. Yeah, the snowmobiles were pretty extravagant, but Sarcel was a blueblood. Besides, she had found herself a small goddamn fortune from Awassi's party. What the heck else was she going to spend it on? Hey, where did she get this waver from...
You had to be ******** kidding her.
CRASH
Or not.
She wasn't surprised honestly, with all the carnage that had been going on, that ******** would show up. Had she anticipated it? Not necessarily. Did she care? Again, not so much. The baseball bats, the spray painting, the smashing; it was all expected. No, what grated her was what she saw on the paper laid out in front of her. What grated her was the absolute disrespect smeared all over the paper in front of her. Sigh.
And then here he comes, lo and behold, laughing like a goddamn idiot. It didn't really suit her image of him, actually, but she supposed any troll enjoying her booth rather than the latter was at least... a good thing? Whatever.
"Are you going to sign this properly?" straight to the point, voice cutting through the giggles as she waved the paper through the air. "And it's Sarcel." her expression remained a placid poker face, voice smooth and even. He definitely was not getting under her skin.
"Actually, you know, whatever. It doesn't matter." it wasn't worth the effort. For a second she though about sliding one of her cards over—Kursha was capable, if not totally insufferable—but on the other hand... well, he was insufferable. Or he was to Sarcel anyway. Whatever, the stack was there if he wanted to say anything, but she wouldn't offer.
Green Minuet
wheeze
Melancholies
Springtime Teenager
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saedusk Crew
Dedicated Bunny
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Posted: Mon May 09, 2016 3:38 pm
HEY I'M MASOAL FADYAS AND WELCOME TO ASSJACKED Username: saedusk Trolls Name: Masoal Fadyas I hereby state that Sarcel Cincil is not accountable nor responsible for my well being in these trials and that I am responsible for any and all injuries I may sustain during my time here. Also my Lusus gave me full permission to participate and will not attempt to maim Sarcel Cincil if and/or when I get sent to the first aid tent.
-
To be fair, Masoal was usually a lot more on his toes than this. The fact that he was lost, and had somehow signed his life away to a waiver he could barely read, was definitely something unusual. The crowds had done him in, that had to be it. Emiola had invited (dragged) him along to this hellish spectacle called Bloodfest—why were there so many trolls—and Fossamom hadn't done a damn thing to stop it. In fact, she seemed to think it would be good for him. Was it good for him now?!
Masoal didn't think so. Somewhere along the line he'd lost track of Emiola, which was fine, perfectly fine, he still had his wits about him. Except for the fact that he kinda didn't. The feral child had been so utterly overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of the festivities that he'd somehow wound up in a dark, uncomfortably warm room with nothing but a ball and anxiety that made his hair stand on end.
At least the ball brought him some form of comfort (boy did he love round things). It was almost placating, at least until someone shouted THROW and Masoal hissed in such sudden surprise that he almost bit his own tongue.
HP: 15/15
Posted: Mon May 09, 2016 4:18 pm
Sascha wondered where in the world the booth manager was leading him. There was no way it could get this dark in a cloth booth. And just how big was this place? Was he about to get serial-killed? Before Sascha could hammer Sarcel with questions, a heavy... ball? was shoved into his chest, knocking the words out of him. He struggled to get a grip on the abnormally heavy object.
A voice cut through the darkness. Immediately Sascha was on high alert.
"Pitch... Black... WHAT!?"
An ominous "thud" resonated way too close to Sascha's legs as he panicked.
Well wasn't this just exciting, wasn't it? In a 'dark' room where no one could see. Tough luck for people who relied on their eyes for everything, Akkira knew she was already ahead of the game in this aspect, all she had to do was listen for people and throw. This was probably going to be the easiest and safest challenge yet! So far these challenges hadn't been much of a challenge at all.
But, she knew her lusus would scold her for getting cocky if she heard how Akkira felt. She was probably right too, the young red blood could just hear that singsong moan of hers telling her to stay vigilant and blahblahblah world blahblahblah. Akkira set her bokken against a wall, though it pretty soon fell down and hit the ground with a loud clatter. Ignoring her fallen walking stick Akkira skipped off to go get ready for the game, eagerly taking the ball shoved at her. Someone was going to get it and hopefully it was at her hands.
Akkira had no plans on losing this game. At the very least she seemed to have impressed the trolls that liked to whisper in her sponge clots.
hp:15/15
saedusk rolled 1 6-sided dice:
3Total: 3 (1-6)
Posted: Mon May 09, 2016 5:00 pm
It wasn't like Fossamom was the one growling at him to move, but something in the commanding boom of THROW had spurred the small, angry tealblood to action. That, or it might've been the even louder shuffle of balls and bodies slamming around forcing him to defend himself. How was he supposed to use his claws if he had to carry around this heavy ball???
With a strain and another hiss, he launched it before swinging around wildly at trolls nearby, ones he might possibly have been imagining. No one was going to catch him unaware!
The room erupted into pandemonium as the command was given to begin throwing s**t. Sascha bobbed and weaved at random. Trolls may have been nocturnal, but these circumstances were ridiculous. Sascha was about to hurl his ball blindly and hope for the best when another ball beat him to it. In the head.
Sascha stumbled back. His own ball was knocked out of his hand, but the one that had clocked him in the forehead rolled down into his arms. Sascha moaned. Well the darkness didn't matter much now since he'd be seeing double anyway. At least he had an idea of where this ball came from.
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