Acmlm's Board - I2 Archive - Sim-Battle Arena - Aspie Hunter Schweitzer vs. Tom, AKA "Grey": Writer's Duel!
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Schwa
Posts: 1862/2214 |
Hunter's body begins to crackle with dark electricity. 30 seconds.
"Gain? Well... Actually, Tom, you kinda disappointed me in that aspect. All I wanted was to get out there and do what my creations were doing for once, because my life is stressful and sometimes the only time I feel happy is when I'm living in my own world."
20 seconds.
"But I didn't get that feeling, and I never will... It's hard, but I must accept that the fantasy world is it's own place, and in a way dangerous... I mean, look at the effect it had on me? I always find myself escaping from reality... But I gained something else instead. This battle sat directly on the boundary between fantasy and reality, because it was both. Yeah, it was just writing, but we treated it like reality too..."
10 seconds. Hunter's body begins flickering.
"I feel more free now. It's hard to explain why, but this battle helped. Now I gotta go, like fast... When you see my character Schwa, remember this battle. G'bye."
With 3 seconds to spare, Hunter's body encases itself in Autistic energy and vanishes back into reality. It would be sad leaving this arena, but hey, there's always PMs and OOCs... |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2981/3770 |
I got a little closer to him, but I heeded his warning. He was right, technically I wasn't allowed here myself.
"Just a few: One, Good match. You were right. I'll leave it at that. Two, I'm glad you're a fan of the whole autistic power thing, but really, do you think all of your roleplaying abilities come from it? I don't... I think all of that is right inside you. It was fun seeing what you're really like. And Three, let's never, ever do this again. I don't like existing here..."
I snapped my fingers, and suddenly the rush of white light envelops me, and I was reverted to Grey, but just for a second... I spoke as him.
Grey: "I think I much prefer this form. Well, Hunter, I'll see you around. Oh, but before you go... Would you mind telling me what you intended to gain out of this?" |
Schwa
Posts: 1861/2214 |
All Hunter can do is stare. And amazingly, with each miss, Hunter suffers damage! He falls to a kneel as the song comes to a close...
"FANCY!!"
And the XBox lands... perfectly on Tom's foe.
"KIAYAHHHHHHHhhhhh...."
Like glass, Hunter's body rips open and flies in every direction, thousands of tiny glass-like fragments of Hunter complimenting the plastic shards of the XBox. At the same time, a megaton explosion of white fire engulfs the arena, spreading from Hunter's destroyed body and washing over all. It is not a damaging fire, though, but it's sheer majesty and epicness could send anyone to their knees, crying.
It clears, and Hunter is still in one piece, kneeling from where he was seemingly destroyed. A black crater is surrounding him on the floor where the Box landed. The strange thing now about Hunter is that his clothes are a slightly different color.
"You broke me, Tom... How could you?"
Pause.
"Ah, but don't sweat it. I asked for somethin' fancy, didn't I?" His voice is no longer demonic. "That said, I'm sorry to say you have won this battle. For my being here right now is technically godmodding, because the rules of physics say I can't exist in this Plane without my outer layer intact. If I don't leave in 60 seconds, I WILL die. The air is corrosive to my core. You have 60 seconds to say any last words you have to tell me in person, and I'm outta here. Nice battle, though."
He doesn't offer a handshake, and for a good reason. Should he touch ANYthing, he will die, now that his "true form" is in the open.
OOC: Pleeeeease tell me in a PM how to make a Midi play when you open the page! I want that for my new and improved Homepage coming soon! |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2968/3770 |
"Aw, don't worry about it ma--- Oh, wait, he's going demon again." I said sheepishly. I needed to figure out how to dodge those arrowheads.
And then it hit me. Clearly DDR was the solution to all of life's problems.
But I had never done a nine footer all the way through.
Could I do it? Could I do it if I believed in myself? Well, that was an obvious one: No. But hey, I HAD been practicing. So the least I could do was try.
Yes. Yes I could. As the arrowheads formed, I snapped my fingers and kicked my boombox, and the exact song I'd need popped up...
I leapt forward as the arrowheads began to fly toward me, and shouted out the name of the song as it opened...
"Can't Stop Falling In Love!!!"
The opening was going to be hard enough, but I knew a few freestyle steps from one of the crew at the arcade, who had been showing me his stuff. This WAS his specialty song, after all. The opening was going to be hell... A set of turns that I could never quite get down perfectly. I stepped, and envisioned the pad as the arrows flew at me. I stepped in time with the music, left and right and left and right and then the first turn! I hit the turn just as a pair of arrowheads flew past me, slicing my shirt and almost scaring me off the beat. But I had to continue. Next was a four-beat stream that I'd have to reverse in order to keep up with the music, making a seven-step combo that I incorporated another dodge into as a second pair of arrowheads flew past me.
Those were just warning shots, though. I figured that one out when suddenly hundreds of them at once began to flash at me, and THAT was when I started to freestyle.
Twisting, turning, stepping, and moving to the beat of the music, I hit the first set of gallop-jumps in the song just as a trio of pairs flew at me. The set flew by as I leapt to the side to perform the gallop, then leapt to another side to finish the jump as another pair flew at me. I repeated the move (had to: The music wouldn't dictate otherwise), and it was back to streaming. This time, I checked my freestyles so that I started moving in a gradual circle, making sure that my movements never caused me to stay in the same place for more than a few seconds. Hunter was smart enough so that I knew his arrows would start tracking my movements. It was a good thing there was a lot of variation in the song's stream steps.
Then came the reversed moves... It was a jump, and then a gallop this time: I hit the jump, but stumbled a bit on the gallop, as a pair of arrowheads flashed through my side and dissipated into my body. I could feel the anxiety, however light it was, and it broke my concentration. I started making a few misses here and there. Had to calm down, had to calm down. I exhaled as a break in the song came, and it was straight jumping for a splitsecond, which I used to refocus my moves and start freestyling again. Arrow after arrow flew past me, and I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead as I struggled to finish the song.
And there it was: The final run. Utter, utter chaos. Turn after turn after turn, and then eighth after eighth after eighth note switch. I didn't even have to do this. I didn't even have to, but I knew if I didn't find some way to focus my movements, those arrowheads would overtake me, no matter how fast I ran. Diagonal stream... Reverse diagonal stream... Afronova walk, and a triple. Almost.....
And the final jump! I threw in a quick flashy move and twisted around in midair as I hit it. A pair of arrowheads burned my skin as I refused to move, but I didn't care. I didn't even care, I could feel the anxiety being overtaken by the sheer rush of adrenaline that blew through my pumping blood. I was gasping for air, I was tearing myself to pieces bronchially...
....But I was still alive.
And that was about when the Xbox hit. Nine pounds of destructive fury, hurtling toward Hunter at terminal velocity, generating an amount of force exactly equal to the calculations I had described not two minutes ago. Hit or miss, it cracked into the marble floor, exploding in a wave of silicon and plastic shrapnel that fired out at incredible speeds, certainly enough to rip through human flesh.
Six kilometers in the air, Janus looked down at the drop point, standing on top of Satchel and wondering if Grey really was insane enough to order having an Xbox dropped on the ground that far... |
Schwa
Posts: 1855/2214 |
"Don't move? Whaddya mean?" Hunter says in his normal voice again. "C'mon, I have a dramatic attack planned out already! You're ruining the battle! Gah!"
He gives a small speech.
"Don't take anything I say seriously in this fight. I'm being as dramatic as possible, that's all. Light touch, noise and sudden change SERIOUSLY freak me out, yes, but that's pretty much the only thing I've mentioned so far that's serious. The rest, I'm just trying to attract attention, just like I do in school, in public, at home, everywhere. Now... where was I?"
He resumes his demon voice.
"Yes, a locked soul... The Forces of Autism! Dieeeeee!!"
The lines on the ground suddenly shatter into hundreds of good sized arrowheads of Autistic energy that rise out of the ground, over the whole field. They turn their spikey ends towards Tom, and in pairs they launch themselves to his position, shattering on the ground if they miss and doing good damage if they hit. This attack should remind Tom (and anyone else for that matter) of Biolizard's attack in Sonic Adventure 2 Battle, Bio Bubble.
At the same time, Hunter writes something on a sticky note and holds it in the air, as holographic words appear in the air that say: OOC: I wanna see something fancy when ya counter this one.
Nice thing about this sort of battle is the ability to incorporate OOCs into ICs aqn vice versea, just like the way Tom "read Hunter's post" a few turns ago. Now that's something ya don't see every day! |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2942/3770 |
OOC: Having just read this, I think this will end in a pretty fun way, yeah. And man, what's with the general ed stuff?
I was kinda confused again... Locked soul? What the hell?
"I'm getting kinda tired of this whole "General Ed" thing," I said with a twinge of annoyance in my tone, "I didn't take any GenEd classes in school, I worked as hard as I could at everything I could. Nobody's just "normal", man. I like thinking I'm unique and I have something special to bring to the world, and you're really bringing that down!"
I snapped my fingers, and instantly a heavy textbook appeared in my hands. I'd show him some REAL arithmancy. Just had to hope I had the calculations correct...
"Let's see... Surface area of revolution, fundamental theorum of calculus... Ah, here it is, Kinematics."
I knelt to the floor of the arena and laid my hands on the ground, transmuting up a piece of paper and a pencil.
6000 meters in the air. So my X value should come out to be 6000.
It weighed about nine pounds... That'd work.
So, S = 6000, initial velocity was zero. Mass... nine pounds, converted to kilograms meant about 4.1 kilos. Give or take. Time was the square root of twice the distance divided by the gravity... sqrt-12000/-9.8... about 35 seconds. Kickin'.
35 times -9.8 = -343 metres per second would be the final velocity...
Energy = 1/2 MV^2... That's 235298 joule/metres.... Jeez, it came out to over 52000 pounds of force!
This was gonna be friggin' sweet. I looked up from my calculations to take note of Hunter's demonic powers. He wouldn't expect this. I looked to the skies, snapped my fingers, and waited.
"Hey, Hunter, I dunno what you're doing, but do me a favor and don't move, ok?"
Airplane should be passing over any time now... |
Schwa
Posts: 1849/2214 |
OOC: Uhh... well, I don't know if the drama in your last post was real or just roleplay, but just in case, I should clarify something... All I'm doing is using my "label" to create a battle style. I'm having a whole lot of fun doing so, too. I hope you haven't stopped having fun, though...
Noise! If there's one thing Hunter can't handle, it's loud noise.
Hunter feels the slight pains starting to build up inside his body, more Autistic energy ready to backlash him at any time now... but it doesn't. He hasn't been pushed enough.
For Hunter, a loud atmosphere and himself can be described using a spaceship analogy. A noisy room is like an acidic cloud of radiation in space, and Hunter would be like the ship, stranded inside the cloud with not enough fuel to get out. The could would slowly, very slowly eat away at the outer hull, and in about 10 to 20 minutes the Core, his power source, would be exposed. On a ship, when the Core is exposed, the ship's internal systems start taking damage... same with Hunter. If Hunter's "hull" is breached and his "Core" shows, Hunter stops functioning effectively.
Since this was but an outburst rather than a continuous cycle of chaos, the noise didn't completely breach him. Hunter watches as Tom staggers up to him...
"Back off. This is a battle."
Tom doesn't... he comes closer, and Hunter gets edgey... then what happens?
Touch!
Touch... touch... (echo) touch-touch-touch-ouch-ouch-uch-uch-ch-ch-h-h....
Pain swells up in Hunter's entire body...
"Don't touch me."
That's it. Hunter's hit Full Power. Of all the possible things that make him anxious, light touch is THE one, the one with the greatest effect possible on Hunter's sanity.
No longer possessing the ability to control himself, Hunter stabs the opposite end of the brush into the ground, as a huge network of lines, all made of Autistic energy, spread out over the entire arena floor.
"You and the GeneralEd forces will perish under the powers of a locked soul," Hunter says with an altered, demon-like voice. "Die, mortal."
Next turn, Hunter will unleash his attack... |
Dracoon
Posts: 3433/3727 |
Shadow: "I'm lost..."
Samuel: "I'm not."
Shadow and Samuel just looked out into the arena, about to see Hunter's counter... if he had one.
Shadow: "Care to explain."
Samuel: "Hmm..."
Samuel didn't say anything for a second.
Samuel: "No, not really, but I will. Obviously, Tom has realized that this isn't even a sim-battle, although I'm going to bet he originally thought it wouldn't be anyways, but he probably thought it would be like a sim-battle, or at least something fun. It isn't though, all we've been doing is hearing Tom-o over there trying to drive some sense into Hunter who's convinced that his 'condition' somehow makes him different than all of us. Although, it would be painfully obvious if that were true, Hunter doesn't realize that in this community we have, anything in real life doesn't really matter here, you can be anything you want here, and thats what its meant for. Fun, not a your life."
Samuel coughed, choking on laughter now.
Samuel: "I've just checked on something and Hunter realizes its about fun, but seems to forget sometimes..."
Samuel chocked on more laughter as he continued to contain himself from a huge outburst. |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2937/3770 |
I read his post... Hell, he was mocking me. Artificial? How would he know?
He couldn't see inside of my mind...
Tick, tick....
The diagnostic statistical manual of mental disorders typically describes Asperger's Syndrome as manifest in people with marked inability to develop social relationships due to impairment in one of several areas... Lack of eye-to-eye gaze and other interactive gestures, inability to form relationships, lack of interest in seeking enjoyment with others, or emotional reciprocity... There were physical behaviors, as well. Motor habits and patterns, a need for sameness and oneness, a preoccupation with the part, but not the whole. Essentially, one's mind moves faster, but when you hit a mental block, you hit it that much harder.
Often, I thought, they exhibit a special skill or talent that's their focus. A savant-like ability. But music? I hadn't read anything at all about music. I'm just obsessed with how people's minds work, after all.
The mind can change. No matter what in it is hard-coded, or what is immobile, some change is possible. I had proven that to myself.
I felt the Autistic energy surround me, bind me, sink into me, and sting. That much of the stuff was TOO much. My 'bone disappeared back from whence it came, and I felt the anxiety and despair of Autism overcome me. In an instant, every moment of depression I had felt since my last breakdown had rushed me, and every memory of the past overtook me.
But there was a real problem with this. A really big one. The problem was asking "Why"?
WHY was the Autistic energy so powerful that even someone who had learned to control it and cast it away so weakened?
WHY did Hunter feel like it was the source of his power?
WHY did a giant paintbrush hurt so much?
This had gotten so ridiculously ludicrous that there was really only one thing I could do. It was time for a Litany of Curses. I closed my eyes, using the despair and anxiety that filled me as fuel for my anger and rage....
"Ok, Hunt..." I said, "What the goddamn hell is up with this fight? Honestly, we've both screwed it up so much, that I'm pretty sure it's beyond simple revival."
I walked closer to him, raising my hand into the air...
"You're hitting me. With a fucking paintbrush. A paintbrush, man. I come into this expecting some kind of martial arts fight, where you use the real skills that you've acquired in real life in a strange form in the arena, and instead I get this explanatory bullshit about how apparently your roleplaying is fueled by Autistic energy?"
This would be a new kind of musical strike... I reared back, and my arm went back with me. My arm swung downward as I shouted...
"We're acting like morons!!!"
The wave of sound that came from my insult was amplified, and sent outward at both of us. I could feel it sting my ears, since I had been insulting myself as well... I was ashamed of the crappy roleplaying job I was doing, and needed to punish myself somehow. I was knocked flat by the sound wave, but that wasn't everything I had to dish out. There was one last touch that followed up the sound wave, as I got to my feet and staggered toward Hunter. I pointed my finger at him, and spoke but two words...
"Especially... You."
There was a loud CRACK as I touched him, ever so lightly, and the full effect of just how stupid I thought this entire ordeal was surged through my finger and hopefully through the man's tank-like mental defenses.
Sticks and Stones would break his bones, but I knew that names would never hurt him. |
Schwa
Posts: 1844/2214 |
"Beautiful. You sealed your own fate."
Hunter dashes forward and leaps up before the trombone nails him, points the brush downward, and the tip breaks off, flies forward and bursts apart, allowing many small shards of Autistic Energy shower the instrument and Tom. Should any of them hit (if they do any damage at all, but who knows ever since the PM I got from you, heh), they do triple damage.
Why? Because Autistic spectrum people have a musical gift. When one is exercising that gift, actually feeling the music (not just playing it), they bring their souls closer to those who are of the Spectrum. Because Tom is a non-Aspie (even though he said he was, like I said I DID recieve a PM) making himself closer to one through music, being hit with Autistic Energy will worsen the effects. Autism and "artificial Autism" do NOT mix.
Hunter lands 20 feet behind Tom, and holds his broken brush up as it quickly begins to regenerate the lost tip. |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2836/3770 |
'That fighting style... it's familiar.' I thought, as the brush tip strick me and whipped me across the face. The first blow had been dealt. I looked at my chest, covered in silver paint. Heavier and slower? Like Super Mario Sunshine...
Like Super Mario Sunshine?
I looked at the paint on my chest. Then I looked at Hunter, with his giant paintbrush. Then again, to the paint, which had slowed me down.
Like Super Mario Sunshine.
Naturally, there wasn't a water cannon in sight for me, so I had to be a little more complex than that. I clapped my hands together and laid them on my shirt, transmuting the paint into water, and watching as its other component parts misted off into the air. I snapped my fingers, and suddenly a large, rectangular case with a circular end dropped out of nothingness and at my feet. I kneeled, flipped open the three clasps on the case, and threw it open. There, in front of me, lay my Yamaha brand trombone, owned by Coventry High School but used constantly by me. Until I could get the rest of the band together and break out the bigger guns, I'd have to deal with this.
But it had been a few months since I last played. Did I still have my old skill, I wondered...?
I screwed the slide in, tightened the mouthpiece, and began to blow. Bflat concert scale to warm up...
....Followed immediately by a rush towards Hunter and an attempt to slam the brass slide of the instrument directly into his head. That scale I played still had sound waves bouncing around the instrument, and if I kept my focus, I'd be able to use that energy to strike that much harder.
Keep in mind, of course, that I said nothing throughout all of this. |
Schwa
Posts: 1839/2214 |
"HAH!!"
Quick as lightning, Hunter twirls the brush and strikes at Tom with a down-left-diagonal slash using the brush tip as he leaps at Hunter, stopping him in his tracks (should it hit OR miss). Should it hit Tom, it'll do Autistic damage (probably won't affect Tom, but usually hits for medium damage, causes anxiety and usually paralysis) AND cover him in a thick silver paint, making him much heavier and harder to move.
Hunter then jumps backward, then makes a Double Jump forward again to land behind Tom, and turns around to face him, pointing the brush at him agressively.
"I know that game... I never dared try it because I was afraid I'd do bad. Others who hang out around there, the Pros, would criticize me. Can't take none o' that."
Hunter thinks, "Whoa, is Tom weakening? I wonder if... Nah..." |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2829/3770 |
"You can keep on doing that!" I said as I sucked the bands back into the floor, transmuting them to marble, and began my real attack, realizing that Hunter simply couldn't be bound... Heh, a paradox? Bound but unbound...
That paintbrush was gonna overload my defenses eventually, so I had to go on the offensive. A bit of DDR would take Hunter down easily.
I cried out, "Love Shine!!!", and leapt at Hunter, hoping to land on him and begin my game of DDR, using HIM as the pad! |
Schwa
Posts: 1836/2214 |
Hunter smiles. Finally his foe is attacking.
"Just what I wanted. HiiiiiiiIIIIIII...."
Hunter holds his hands up, as Autistic energy starts to swirl around them. The energy forms the image of a giant maccaw for a split second, as Tom's attack is deflected by some invisible force and sent right back at him!
"Com Barrier!! (echo effects)
One of the side-effects of a fully Autistic person is sometimes the characteristic of repeating everything he hears. This attack reflects that side-effect, which "parrots back" any attack thrown at Hunter. Catch: This attack can't be used in a row; there has to be several turn-intervals between uses.
"I may not be able to attack you directly with my disability," Hunter says, "but IN-directly you are no match for me." He morphs back his paintbrush. "I WILL continue this fight with what I am good at."
Surely Tom must be weak against by his own move... |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2786/3770 |
OOC: Jeez, man, I'm not god-modding... God-modding would be hitting you with an unstoppable superattack. I'm just trying to give you a set goal to work with. You wanna go conventionally, then we will.
"Fine. Your funeral." I said with moxie... I hit another button on the boom box.
"SELECT A STYLE!"
And another button...
"SINGLE PLAY! SELECT DIFFICULTY!"
And one last button...
"HEAVY MODE!"
I scrolled through my choices, and found one that I knew would be very good for the current situation. All that I needed to do now was get Hunter to stay still... And be knocked flat on his back. But how to do that, I wondered...
......And grinned. Slapping my hands together, I felt the familiar transmutating heat that accompanied the electricity of alchemy. I placed my hands on the ground, and the bolts of light charged through the ground at Hunter. When they reached his feet, slabs of marble grew like ropes out of the ground, attempting to bind him flat on his back to the floor. I could only hope this would work. |
Schwa
Posts: 1826/2214 |
OOC: CheesePie is right, Grey. Stop godmodding! Now! |
PumpkinPie
Posts: 749/1158 |
Corbin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There wasn't any cooperation with this battle - one person wanted to fight, and the other wanted...er, something else. If the two didn't agree on a place to take this plot, then the thread would surely be doomed die, sticky or not. Personally, he wasn't sure he liked what Grey was doing. Excellent defenses were good, but to be entirely fair, they ought to have an obvious weakness, and Corbin just couldn't see what it was. Also, near-invincibility had a knack for limititing what the opponent could do, shortening their arsenal and creativity dramatically.
Then again, it was only 17 replies into the battle, and a lot could happen. |
Schwa
Posts: 1822/2214 |
OOC: Ugh, I don't like the way this battle's turning out... 
Hunter dissolves the fire.
"Grrr... Grey... C'mon. Do me a favor. Free me from my shackles of reality and allow me to actually have a real spar with you. I don't want to think today... I just want to battle. Even Dracoon could understand that kind of feeling."
He doesn't attack yet. |
Grey the Stampede
Posts: 2783/3770 |
I sighed... You just couldn't reason with this boy. Here I was, trying to help heal him of the wounds he had inflicted upon himself, and he was ready and waiting to pelt me with fireballs... Why couldn't he get it?
"Hunter, you're not going to be able to harm me by conventional means... I keep trying to tell you that. Go ahead, throw a million fireballs at me, if you have to. I'll give you that I've got a weakness, but Autistic energy, fire, ice, lightning... That's not it. It's something more."
He wasn't listening. Here I was, practically giving him the answer and he still refused to acknowledge it. That was one of my pet peeves, when people didn't take me seriously. I guess now was about the time when I decided going on the offensive might be a good idea, so I reached into my pocket, and I pulled out a pencil. That'd do pretty well for the time being. A simple notepad, located in one of my pockets, and I was off to scribbling, a quick litany to keep him occupied...
Man, I wasn't even paying attention to anything else at this point. I didn't have anything rolled up: No character sheets, no nonweapon proficiencies, no broad or tight groups, I didn't even know my own hit point total. I just sorta assumed it didn't exist, actually. And then there was THAC0... But that was speaking in D&D terms. I just had to keep Hunter going.
The scribble was almost done. I laid it on the ground when I finished it, and then I snapped my finger, watching as the words I had written came to life. They swirled off of the page, and floated in the air for a few seconds, before forming themselves into what I guessed was a rather large boombox. That'd do. I fished a pair of quarters out of my pocket, and deposited them into a small slot on the side of the sound reproduction device. Just a few more seconds, and suddenly, the speakers on it barked out the words loudly enough so that anyone in the arena could hear it perfectly over the restless commotion of the audience...
Boombox: DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION!!!"
Perfect. |
Schwa
Posts: 1807/2214 |
Hunter looks up, slowly.
"Yes... you... are... my brother... I'll prove it to you."
Damn tunnelvision of his... He didn't even catch a WORD of Grey's speech because he was focusing solely on Grey's first sentence...
"Come on... I can still take you... Do your worst..."
Hunter stands up, with difficulty, and focuses Autistic Energy in his hands... Then the energy takes the form of fireballs, which he holds, ready to throw.
"We gonna continue the battle or what? *cough* C'mon, attack me." |
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