Contest IC

[Dyffri]

((I apologize for this being short, but there isn't a whole lot I can say without giving information that isn't my job to distribute. Just kind of post as you will, feel free to interpret the appearances of your starting locations as you wish.))

The wind howls at the castle. Snow falls at an alarmingly high rate. The contestants have gathered and the game is about to take place. The powers that be prepare to oversee what could be the greatest battle to ever take place. Or perhaps someone will just pull some stupid shenanigans. Never can tell with the players in a game like this...

[thenameofchange]

The catacombs stunk of dust and death, the two scents intertwining seamlessly into a dry effluvium. I wrinkle my nose, thinking of how the dust coating the place would ruin my adorable red flare pants! I just got these yesterday, with the adorable bunny print running up the sides in a contrasting blue, mmm I feel like a reverse Super Man. Man, do I feel pretty in these! But...wait. Never mind. I chuckle and walk through the dark catacombs, where the candles once lit for loved ones long since burnt away leaving melted stubs with waxy rivers running down the holders. I leave no footprints in the layers of filth covering the floor. My passage is traceless, as it has always been.

Now...where should I go today? What could there possibly be to do in this castle? I chuckle again at the thought of all the things that could go on here. I mean, the possibilities are endless--castles never really grow old. There's always more to discover, more to do. Plenty to keep someone occupied, which comes in handy. I grow incredibly bored sometimes, I really do.

Slowly, I traverse the catacombs, drawing closer and closer to the exit. Oh, how I despise these catacombs! They are so large, and sprawl so..so...unattractively! I mean, they could've planned it a bit better, instead of making them look like some ugly winding thing, they could've made the plans into a..flower...or a cute puppy or something. Ooo, a rainbow! Rainbow designs are so in! Maybe that should be the next outfit I get...something with rainbows. Would certainly bring out my eyes...

I jerk to a stop and make myself still when I hear a scritching noise. A rat squeaks as it twists its body out of a tiny hole in one of the crypts to my right, and I snicker as it scuttles away. Vermin overrun the catacombs, and I normally leave them alone. The rats and spiders generally stay out of my way, and the bats are just adorable! But those damn beetles, I kill every one I see. Those are icky, and bugs don't deserve to live. That's my philosophy on life, anyway. Ha, life. Now that's a funny one! I just crack myself up sometimes.

[GrayPerdition]

PICARESQUE VAGABONDS! My thoughts screamed as my throat could not, resonating in my ethereal head as would a rat skirr around the floor boards of the cellar. Rude, boorish, insolent scoundrels! How do they even dare to encroach upon this grandiose representation of artistic and architectural beauty? Not only that, but some even try to scheme their way into the treasury! The cornucopia of my life's earned wealth! The very thought made my entire vaporous form fill with caustic, uncontrollable rage. Are there not other, incondite places they could place their unworthy feet? A scowl has been etched onto my features since the downfall of my wondrous castle, and I could not remember a time when I had rested in the unabashed peace of the afterlife. Fate has been such a cruel mistress in these last decades (or was it centuries?)...

Even through all of this, the thoughts that had permeated my usually docile conscious had a cruel smirk upon my once-ravishing features. I moved silently -as always- down several winding stairwells and sitting rooms as I made my way from mid-level of the center down do the basement. I could no longer exist with the molestation of my extraordinary citadel, and may I be damned to this purgatory forever if I stood idly by any longer. Downwards, into the crypt I moved, to secure that which I hold the most dear: the gleaming hoard laying so innocently in its vault below my once-warm bedchambers.

The hall leading to the treasury was long and narrow, lined with towering, decorative pillars and suits of sturdy armor that stood dutifully by to guard my illustrious earnings from the prying hands of greedy rascals. I couldn't help a malicious, albeit silent, chuckle as I came to the vault's doors, then spun on my heel and straightened my posture to await the next boisterous fool who dared to disrupt the resting place of my wealth. Although I had to admit to myself the act of waiting was not so appealing, there had to be something else I could do...

And there was! Why did I never think of this before? Alas, even I lack forethought at times, apparently. I walked forward slowly, my impalpable arms raised above my head and then I threw them down violently: and with them came the first set of pillars nearest to the vault's doors. I stood, unharmed, a few feet away from them and closer to the exit. As the dust settled, I saw, with unhidden satisfaction, the crumbled towers had created an effective barrier against foes who needed level ground to walk right. And even if they did not, the debris blocked the area in front of the door so it couldn't be opened, meaning any tangible person could not get through the threshold.

Maniacal laughter would have filled the hall if it were not for my lack of fleshy vocal cords, but I did it all the same, feeling quite pleased with this outcome, and then jogged forward and crashed another set of the otherwise useless pillars to the marble floor, and another. The three seemed to be enough, plus, I had enjoyed the look of the pillars' labyrinthine carvings in life and didn't want to destroy them all. Instead, my arms waved and my fingers squirmed as I took a hold of my new soldiers; I moved them into a semi-circle front around the entrance four suits deep, all with weapons drawn and poised for battle. Although they couldn't move without external help, they would prove to be a hell of a scare.

[ANate]

((Posts after this will be longer, I swear. It's short to stay vauge-ish for now))

I look around at the setting I am in, ignoring the cold wind. I am in a courtyard, and before me stands a large building. I look back and forth, and then turn and head for the shadowy walkway that follows the edge of the courtyard. I cling to the shadows for now; I don’t fear the dark, and it would be better to remain hidden at this point. Perhaps it would later become advantageous to walk in the open, I had no idea.

As I walk through the courtyard, I cast my eyes about for anything that could be of use to me, particularly weapons. However, I also had a vague hope of finding rope. Rope was always useful—for more than just climbing, too. As my eyes looked all around, they were searching for two other things, as well. The first was any form of writing or depictions. From those I could learn much about this place—and possibly something about my… goal. The other thing I searched for was any sign of other people. If I saw anyone, I would have to evaluate whether or not they would be in my way… and if they were, they’d have to get out of it one way or another…

[Beast]

A soft sigh of relief passed through my lips and a smile adorned my face, the view in front of me something I had been waiting to see for a very long time. The large iron gates loomed over my rather small stature, and my heels crunched against the gravel as I strolled up to them, lock cutters in hand. The metal of the lock groaned against the sharp cutters until it finally gave out and fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Really, people should be more careful with the way they lock things. It was just too easy. I tossed the clippers to the side and strolled in, my eyes sliding from side to side, looking for what made this particular castle so amazing. I spotted something else, however, that made quite a few nasty words tumble from my lips. I growled under my breath and rummaged through the pack that rested on my shoulders. I had chosen this one occasion to pack lightly, of course, and lacked any of the usual explosives I carried around. The crumbled debris in front of the doors blocked my way into the castle, and I stopped my foot.

"Motherfucker!" I shrieked and stomped my foot. There had to be something I could do. Suddenly, an idea snuck into my mind and a small grin made its way across my face. In my bag, staring up at me lay a rope and a small clip. Let's MacGyver this shit, I mused to myself. Quickly, I wrapped the rope around my waist and secured it and then crawled a little ways onto the rubble- throwing the end of the rope with the clip up and attaching it to a loose rod. The pull that followed proved it sturdy and I began the ascent.

"Deep breaths, Sarah, deep breaths." I muttered to myself, keeping my eyes on one of the windows above the front entrance and praying to anything that existed up in the sky that it wasn't locked. At the top I took a few shaky breaths and scrambled to the ledge, clinging to the window and closing my eyes for a few moments to calm myself. Steeling myself, I grabbed the peeling white paint of the window frame and pushed- almost losing my balance and falling to my death, but managing to hand on and slam the window open. I climbed through as quickly as I could, and resisted the urge to kiss the ground when I was safe on the floor of what looked like the second story of the house.

With a sigh of relief, I readjusted my bag and disheveled appearance and quietly snuck down the hall. With any luck, I'd be out of here with what I wanted in my sweaty little palms within the hour. Too bad I don't have any luck.

[Swanmarkedblade]

So I am in the dining hall. Before me is a ghost, looking ready to serve but cannot serve me. A long table, with room for a dozen people on each of the long sides and one seat on each of the ends, is here. Amazingly, the silverware remains set on the table for the seat in front of me at the head.

The ghost introduces himself as the head chef, asks me my fancy. I ask for a loaf of bread as an appetizer, and a dozen egg omelette as the main course. He says to me: Olga, we only have one egg, which is somewhere in this castle. My stomach growls a bit, warning me I'm getting hungry, but that's not unusual. They call me "Overeating Olga" because of my appetite and my weight.

My dress feels a bit less tight than usual now, probably because I've not had much to eat for some time. I wish I had at least some fruit, or a piece of cheese, even hard cheese. I snap out of it when the former head chef touches me and whispers that there is still some bread in the kitchen, and that it's not too stale. I take the knife and spoon from the table, and head towards the kitchen.