The tournament is taking place in the Castle in Negaspace, in a large room that has been designated towards the event. It is very spacious and there is a ring where the participants will fight, as well as seats around it for viewers. You are greeted by General Aurostibite and General Xenotime standing off to the side to monitor
The rules are simple: fight your opponent using whatever methods you have available to you - physical strength or magic - and whoever is left standing at the end is the winner! Aurostibite adds, in a tone of voice that doesn't quite indicate whether he's joking or not, to please try not to kill anyone.
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OOC RULES:
- Battles must be completed within 72 hours. If you are unable to do so, or something happens that prevents things or slows you down, you can just roll the dice without adding in RP to determine the outcome. However, please do your best to RP out the battle, this option is only for those situations where it becomes necessary to do so.
- Dice rolling is mandatory! I know it can be frustrating but this keeps everything fair and even.
- Anyone is free to pop into a battle RP, they are open to spectators, whether you are participating in the tournament or not! Any Negaverse agent or Corrupt or Corrupt Cat is free to view the battles, regardless of whether or not they were in signups.
- If you have any questions, please contact kuropeco or Beejoux through Discord or PM!
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THE MECHANICS
There will be 2d20 rolled in each intro post. The person with the higher number is the first to attack!
Lieutenant / Basics - 20 HP / 1d8-2 attack (a 0 is a miss) Captain / Super - 30 HP / 1d10-2 attack (a 0 is a miss) General / Eternal - 40 HP / 1d12-2 attack (a 0 is a miss)
( how it works: roll the dice - if you get a 4, subtract 2 = your attack is 2! and so on and so forth. If you get a 6, subtract 2 = your attack is 4! )
Roll dice -> RP out attack -> wait for opponent to attack back -> roll dice again until someone's HP is depleted first!
The person the higher HP at the end of the battle (or the one that does not reach 0) is the winner!
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DEFENSIVE / HEALING MAGIC
For healing magic: roll 1d4 (first stage), 1d6 (second stage), 1d8 (third stage); whatever number you roll is how much HP you gain back. This takes the place of your attack roll for your turn.
For defensive magic it must be rolled PRIOR to the next attack. Roll the same dice as above, and subtract that amount from the damage done by your opponent.
i.e. :
- Person A rolls a 6 instead of rolling for an attack - Person B attacks with 7 damage - Person A receives 1 damage (7-6)
xStrickenized
xSyrie
Aue will be going first!
Syrie rolled 1 12-sided dice:
10Total: 10 (1-12)
Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 1:35 pm
HP: 40 / 40 ATK: 8
Once again, it was Tournament time. Generals Aurostibite and Xenotime presiding. Eternal Aue walked out into the prepared combat ring for his first match, expression calm and focused. Unlike the previous year, his commanding officer was entirely human - and that much more terrifying for being somehow less so over all in aspect - and his physical condition better than it had been since his time with the Finnish National Defense Force, largely thanks to the grueling demands of his new Master.
Aurostibite introduced the combatants, offered that they not flat out murder one another, and then set the bout in motion.
Standing at the ready was a most familiar form and face: Faustite. The scent of smoke and heated metal, of something strangely other as well as the faint tang of copper wafted toward the corrupt of lemons from the diminutive general. "Faustite." Aue nodded curtly, feeling the chill of the Citadel air on his bare nape; as was custom he had cut his hair after transforming so that it could be pulled up into bun that was harder to grasp or use against him. As the Tournament fights were typically counted as elaborate and violent spars, the Finn hadn't bothered with blacking out the brighter parts of his uniform, nor removing extraneous decorative pieces for stealth purposes.
Aue took a moment to contemplate his first move with the half-youma general; Faustite was smaller and had greater agility - even with the odd shoes - but unless he were actively using his youma abilities or managed to jam part of your body into that furnace he called a torso, his strength was low. Endurance for an extended battle likewise on the lesser side of the equation.
Douse some of that fire and he'll have a harder time. With a calculated drew upon his magic, lifting his arms into the air and casting his eternal magic directly at Faustite. One. Two. Three. Three is enough, he will get hit one way or another-- Large lemon slices went barreling at Faustite as the corrupt watched, concentrating on the magic so it would have the best effect possible.
Strickenized
Eternal Sailor Attack: [Aue] Lemon Slice Surprise Aue summons a giant four-foot wide lemon that hovers over his head; he then slices at it with his hand/energy - splitting it into up to five sections (he can do less and increase the potential damage caused, but five is the limit) - sending each section/slice rolling towards an enemy. The citric acid from the slice burns fabric and leaves the sensation of a really severe sunburn on the victim for 45 seconds.
The only possible lasting damage to the victim is redness and tenderness like the early stages of a sunburn (this is flavor for rp and up to the player, it's not required) and it’s possible for the opponent to be knocked over/squished by the slice itself.
Per BSSM canon, Aue can perform this attack 2x per battle.
Yellow like a smear of iodine. Yellow like Aue's uniform, Faustite realized, as ey looked from the familiar face to the under-eye piercing to the lemon brooch sporting its black blazon of a star. That's what eir mouth was — a splotch of lemon. A yellowed hint that someone took offense to em. And here, in the tournament, it was on display to every spectator: Quartz, whom ey saw; Kamacite, likely Schörl if she saw fit to observe her subordinates.
Subordinate. Aue wore that brand now. Ally. Teammate. Funny that their first fight official to one another was against one another.
Where Aue gave enough respect for a name, Faustite said nothing. Eir fingers still hovered over the yellow, over the sore that coated eir mouth like an unopened wound. Ey nodded, however, and flame eyes settled on Aue's feet. Feet that would be quick, and brave, and tactically appropriate. Feet that traveled more than eirs. Feet that stood, now, in the shadows of magic.
Faustite crouched, darted right. Lemon split and crushed and spilled over shoulder where it struck, down to eir pipes, down to where metal met man and the parts of em unmeant for the outside burned wickedly. But an acid burn was a different burn, one more caustic than consumptive, and Faustite gritted eir teeth to the feel of it. Worse, he could taste emon backwash in eir mouth, in eir smoke. No one in this room had a body so vivisected as eirs; they couldn't know that delicate pain.
Faustite crossed the floor, closed their distance. Ey reached for what ey could catch. Smoke blew out of em with such a wheezing force that ey felt that acidic burn renewed, as if eir abilities only opened em more to assault.
syrie
32/40
size=10]Dispersion ;; Range: 3 foot radius with Faustite at the epicenter. Duration: 30 seconds Use Count: 3x Miss Chance: Circumventing magic, stepping out of range. Effect: Faustite draws eir hands together, and a sound like an opening lighter may be heard. Smoke pours from Faustite in a deafening blast. Those caught in the initial blast endure a ringing in the ears and mild disorientation. Breathing smoke causes burning lungs, stinging eyes, and frequent coughing. Ringing ears and coughing symptoms linger after leaving the smoke for 5 seconds. Any lasting damage is defending player's choice.
This would be an ugly match. All the matches at this level tended to be, to some degree -- most of the generals and eternal sailor soldiers of the Negaverse had a good deal of pride of position, and those that didn't had enough wisdom of self-preservation to balance it out. Everyone at this rank would be fighting for victory, everyone at this rank had that much at stake. The lower ranked soldiers often came out to watch -- subordinates made shows of support for their superiors -- few enough of the matches at this level were ever usually unattended.
But this one -- Aue and Faustite. Two of Schörl's. They would fight with all they had, each of them certain that the other one knew the stakes for ever indulging in a lack of effort. Doubly so since they knew Quartz was here watching, taking notes. He'd report back -- and one of them had to lose. It was going to be bad news today for somebody.
Quartz was just glad that somebody wasn't going to be him.
Syrie rolled 1 12-sided dice:
8Total: 8 (1-12)
Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 10:01 pm
HP: 35 / 40 ATK: 6
Faustite was jagged edges held together with careful engineering, little of it his own. Would Tiberius be calling the half-youma sourpatch today, sly and self-satisfied, rather than the Finn? Already he'd learned to not ask questions - if there were answers for Aue, they would be given with all the singular care and creativity of Schörl's punishments. Whatever punishment had given Faustite such a sour expression was none of his damn business, especially not on a field of battle. Instead, he wondered if it might be exploitable for the fight. Would his magic make that area so much worse? Would Faustite's magic make his situation likewise a new sort of misery?
No longer could the Finn claim a near-constant state of pleasant inebriation as his companion. She had taken that - and so much more - yet to be earned back. Lazy. Aue was lazy.
He would not be lazy here. Faustite came to him, bold and quick and s m o k i n g-
Aue breathed it in, there was no helping it. Heavy, lemon-tinged youma-smoke filled nose, mouth, lungs. It stung eyes to watering and set the senshi staggering, coughing and disoriented. Faustite had been there, before him-- where was the little b*****d now? Had either of them even moved? His lungs burned like aerosolized acid had never been meant for human tissues; over the coughing the sussuration of Faustite's split cloak, the sound of cloth against metal - was he hallucinating it over the ringing? Don't trust sound now. Sight better, barely. Find him- he's too quick to leave alone-
Squinting through the tears, Aue caught shape of his opponent but couldn't pinpoint location. That was fine. His super magic was fairly AoE. Once more the eternal cast, "Petal Storm!" he wheezed into a coughing fit, sending the nasty magic out again.
He could feel a headache growing, pulsing from behind one eye. A near constant companion these days. Coughing was not improving it.
Strickenized
[Aue] Petal Storm Aue summons a storm of lemon blossoms that burst apart, petals flying at the enemy to cut (a la lots of tiny paper cuts) and then dissolve into lemon juice, which stings like a biatch in the fresh petal-cuts. May also cause further topical damage/burning due to the citric acid involved. The burning/stinging effect lasts for 30 seconds and is most effective if it hits the victim's eyes. :>
Per BSSM canon, Aue can perform this attack 3x per battle.
Ey felt what ey couldn't see — particulates cutting and scraping, further citric acid accompanying them. Faustite loosed a raspy, pressured groan into eir own cloud then ducked out of it with black contrails tracing eir movement. Already ey looked like an otherworldly auto mechanic with black smears and runnels staining face and hands. And while ey knew a measure of protection via uniform, ey once again faced the internal dilemma for leaving off the glass corset.
Faustite hunched, backed away, rubbed at the residual burning in eir face. What a trouble, that magic.
A few seconds passed to account for that magic, then Faustite swept back into eir smoke, dove for that so hard to miss teammate of eirs. Hands swept out to find him in the cover of black.
syrie
26/40
Syrie rolled 1 12-sided dice:
2Total: 2 (1-12)
Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 10:05 pm
HP: 35 / 40 ATK: 0
Much of Faustite's fire had been dampened; a correct decision made to continue with the liquid attacks.
There was nothing beautiful nor fey in the half-youma's face as he backed away defensively, protective of the burning center bared to elements without it's special cage. Well the Finn knew, just as he knew taking advantage of such a thing was effectively dirty pool though it would not stop him.
Aue stepped forward to pace his retreat but came up short in a fit of coughing, the burning deep in his lungs much like that he'd gotten the first time he'd smoked, or when he'd accidentally breathed sulfur from lighting a match. It was that sort of pain keeping him from breathing deeply, keeping him hacking and coughing like an emphysematic smoker when he did.
Clawed hands sought the senshi, reaching and catching magically sturdy material only to have it wrenched away; enhanced strength or no, Aue would never be held by Faustite without some other sort of tether. Like the one that kept him from using his native tongue and using one he hated instead. "Nej, din jävla--" He rasped, words choked off by more coughing.
The cough said enough. Still barking out a groan inconstantly, Faustite drew on eir adrenaline to sprint for Aue's hacks. Smoke petered out, leaving their tournament ground hazy and unfriendly to spectators but for the areas where Faustite's dwindled flame burned brightest. Faustite just passed the thicker haze before darted and dove to tackle Aue bodily.
Ey knew ey could not fell the senshi with 130 pounds of live weight and metal. But buried in that weight was enough heat and licking flame to sear Aue like a fish, and for the so few qualms Aue had for destroying Faustite's remaining innards, Faustite would emulate that opportunism. Better that he burn with every contact they endured as trade for Faustite's too-small, too-troublesome body. Too often had ey fought against it, endured surgeries and revisions and additions with the quartet of pipes in eir back and the grate paving over what left em behind.
As metal thrummed with the hit, Faustite felt a familiar churn of spit flood into eir mouth. The taste of starvation was ubiquitous. How many calories was twenty layers of skin? And what of the adipose layer beneath it? Faustite grimaced.
When ey at last spoke, the words came with raw voice. "Ex nihilo nihil fit — use more than your magic, Sister Sweden!"
*[Latin] From nothing comes nothing.
syrie
26/40
Syrie rolled 1 12-sided dice:
4Total: 4 (1-12)
Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 10:10 pm
HP: 27 / 40 ATK: 2
It was utterly unfair how hot his teammate was.
Literally. Especially when that heat was being applied in close proximity to his body. Aue's attempt at dodging Faustite's tackle was too slow, his reaction times pitiful and challenged by the spasms racking his body with each cough. Red-eyed from involuntary tears and half-blinded by the thick youma smoke, it was likewise difficult to rely on his usually acute vision to help get him through the encounter safely.
Man and monster came together with a heavy sound, heat pouring over Aue unpleasantly. Then really unpleasantly as Faustite began to cook him, the scents and sounds of sizzling flesh rising to horrify. To what degree--?
And then the little s**t spoke, Aue on his breath like bacon after breakfast. Sister Sweden.
Aue glared at his opponent and hissed wordlessly at him, not trusting the words he might say to be safe. The angles were difficult, but not impossible for a headbutt to get Faustite to stop playing Toast Oven long enough to scuttle away like a broken crab.
A head turn caused Aue to meet bone to bone, and Faustite's temple buzzed with a dull pain. Citric acid still burned caustic to eir innards. Faustite twisted and wrenched, simultaneously limited in range of motion yet somehow being the more agile of them. Ey wondered, then — was Schörl watching? Too much risk lay in looking at the crowd. Ey hurt, ey tasted the bathroom cleaner mixed with bacon in eir breath, tasted copper and moondust residue of a body eternally recycling, and next would taste more of eir new teammate.
Damn his magic; he would learn worse injury came from close proximity to Faustite. What advantage Aue had with magic would mean nothing without hands, lips, breath enough to cast them. And while pressing Aue's face to eir core was too much a stretch, taking his hand wasn't.
What delicate lungs you have. Faustite gazed up at him sharply, the black line of eir splotched mouth the only warning before another billow of smoke spread into the air. Doubtless cooking hand and cooking lungs would be impetus enough to give the general space.
Why can't she be around when I do well.
syrie
24/40
Syrie rolled 1 12-sided dice:
5Total: 5 (1-12)
Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 10:13 pm
HP: 19 / 40 ATK: 3
Having been denied many of his usual methods of distancing himself from his body, Aue felt aware of every lick of flame against tender flesh. Each blister that formed and burst was agony and his brain rebelled against it, darkness dancing at the edge of his vision while he fought to get away.
Coughing took him again, wrenching his arm as he bent in Faustite's grasp. The smells and sensations were too much.
In the Wachowski's The Matrix, after Neo is retrieved from his liquid-filled pod by the resistance humans aboard the Nebuchadnezzar, there's a scene where he 'pops'. In much the same way, this is what the corrupt senshi of lemons did, spilling down the half-youma general a slurry of mostly protein powder, unidentifiables, and bile.
Faustite released Aue at once, backed up, spread hands away from it. Smell nor taste bothered em not; the stomach acid of it pooled into eir pelvis and mixed with residual lemon sting. The youma general bent, hands scraping over eir grate to part that caustic mess from eir body. The less viscous parts poured out of eir pelvic cavity, yet the rest of the sizzling funk started to cook to the cage. Faustite gritted teeth against the unfamiliar, decidedly unpleasant whey taste that haunted the back of eir throat.
You ate your chance
Faustite's mood soured, the youth stewing in one yellowed thought. With the danger of Aue's gift circumvented, ey refreshed eir uniform to part with the remaining — if unintrusive — stains.
"Fight," ey goaded, the word little more than a whisper. Little more than an expression.
Back and back and back-- Aue put room between himself and Faustite through a haze of pain. It was difficult to move fingers, to pick up sash to wipe at his face and clear the damp from his eyes; making a fist would be painful, striking a blow excruciating. Now would be the time to crunch a starseed between his teeth, to get the first aid kit out and begin to attend his wounds - keeping infection from the burned flesh was paramount to having it heal - but that wasn't allowed.
"Ja." Aue spat, refocusing as he could on Faustite. Slowly the senshi moved to flank his opponent, coming closer as he circled. A weakened right hook was the best that could be done, tentative, testing the resultant effect doing so had. It wasn't great - but it wasn't as bad as it could have been, which was an awful sign he couldn't afford to think about.
