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Friday, February 6, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Kairin Hughes Reference Sheet
Reference sheet for Kairin, the character I'm entering into both BRR2 and SE-OCT. At the same time lol. Anyways, long story short she's another character from John Cleese's world and is trying to chase him down for some unknown reason.
I'm going to be trying something new as I write the upcoming entries for each tournament. As each of these OC tourneys are going to be running at the same time (BRR finals, BRR2, and SE-OCT), and they all follow a common overall story, I'm going to attempt to weave all three into a single cohesive story that (hopefully) comes together slowly as I progress in each tournament. Thus, I figure it'd be better if I explained the time frames now as to how it's all going to fit together, no? Okay. So.
BRR1 is John Cleese's story arc and occurs first. It's the first part of the ReSpawn Chronicles. Kairin Hughes appears about 6 months later and begins her chase after Cleese, with BRR2 following her progress. Expect to see some overlap between my BRR1 and BRR2 entries in terms of when certain events happen. SE-OCT will be fully linear, the entirety of it occurring after the end of BRR2, basically the third chapter in the ReSpawn saga. After that? I haven't got anything planned yet. Depending on whether I scope out any suitable OCT's after these wrap up, I may continue using combat tourneys to advance their stories, or turn it into a monthly webcomic sort of deal, or just complete the ReSpawn story at the end of these tournaments. It's still up in the air and liable to change at any point. After all, I created Kairin as an antagonist to Cleese (in concept form) ages ago, maybe in the 3rd or 4th round of BRR1, never expecting to enter her into 2 more contests to broaden the story. Who knows what I may come up with between now and the conclusion of all 3 tournaments?
Audition entry for Sinisters End OC Tournament, starting soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well that was a waste of time, wasn't it?” Kairin whispered into the smoky air. An empty brandy glass sat near her hand on the counter. A plush replica of herself nodded beside her. “All that fighting, and I still haven't found a way to beat that damned merchant.”
She sighed, and stepped away from the bar, out into the gathering night. The air was cool, with a light breeze. Kairin raised her right arm up in front of her, looking through her fingers at the full moon. A faint hiss could be heard, as well oiled mechanical parts slid and rotated past each other to actuate the movement. She clenched her fist. “Just you wait, Cleese. I'll get you yet. I'll get you.”
As the wind continued to swirl about Kairin, she tensed. “And who might you be?” she growled. Kairin spun around, cocking her right arm back, a faint click coming from her arm as an unseen mechanism opened slightly, pressing against the coat sleeve.
Barely half a foot in front of her stood a tallish man, dressed in Victorian attire. “Ah, I see you've finally noticed me.” The man grinned, lips pulled into a sarcastic smirk. “The name's Sir Prize. I have come here with a proposition for you. You are Kairin Hughes, I presume?”
Kairin frowned slightly. “Yeah, that's me. What kind of a proposition are we talking here? I've no interest in hiring lackeys, if that's what you want, they cost too much and just get in my way.”
A voice floated seemingly out of nowhere. “My my, doesn't she have a tongue. Oh ho, this should be fun indeed!”
Kairin started. “Who's there! Show yourself!” she shouted, her eyes flicking in vain from each shadowy doorway and alley to the next.
“Oh, that's just my partner, Miss Fortune. She can only be seen by those of the male gender, you see,” Sir Prize said, sounding somewhat bored. “Now, back to my proposition. I have no interest in becoming one of your...lackeys, as you put it, even I have rather a bit more pride than that. No, I come here to offer you an invitation. You've made quite a name for yourself fighting here in Byako, as a fighter with little mercy. My employer has marked you as a promising rising villain, as new as you may be, and would like to invite you to Sinister End to compete in a tournament. It will be very different from what you experienced here though. You will be free to do whatever you like, without petty limitations like 'no deaths.' My employer is looking for the best of the worst, you see, and is prepared to offer you whatever you might ask for, should you win.”
“Sounds like my kind of place.” Kairin smiled slightly. “Whatever I ask for, eh? No offense to you, but I don't really trust those kinds of promises any more. No, I think you can leave me out of this one, as much as the opportunity to kill off other fighters sounds fun to me. Unless you can show me some proof of what your employer can offer me, I'm not interested.” She turned away, and began to walk down the empty street.
Sir Prize sighed. “Perhaps I was mistaken in my choice of words.” His voice dropped slightly, with a hint of steel. “When I said that you had been invited to join the tournament, I did not mean that you had a choice. My employer has tasked me with gathering the most talented villains of the world, and you will join whether you want to or not.”
“Tch.” Kairing stopped in mid-stride. “How annoying. You know, I never did like clingy people.” Kairin spun around, charging at Sir Prize. Her right coat arm exploded open into shreds as strong springs released, kicking a pair of blades out and forward from her forearm. With a thrust, she impaled Sir Prize on the blades all the way up to her fist...
Or rather, that's what should have happened. Instead, something rather different occurred. First, a screw came loose in Kairin's left leg, causing her to lose balance. Falling sideways, she swung her right arm around wildly in an attempt to catch onto something, and ended up slicing through a thin wooden support. Having lost one of its legs, the awning before the Byako Saloon came crashing down, landing squarely on Kairin's back.
As the dust settled, Miss Fortune's voice came floating once again through the dust. “Oh dear, I do hope I haven't overdone it. I wasn't really expecting to have to do this.” She giggled lightly.
With a loud crash, Kairin burst out of the wreckage, her sword held at the ready, staring furiously at Sir Prize. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right where you stand!”
“Miss Hughes, I do wish you would calm down for just a moment. And besides, Miss Fortune could quite easily stop you again.” Sir Prize sighed. “You asked for proof? Take a look at this. I was asked to show it to you, should you prove...difficult.” He pulled out a rapier from beneath his coat, displaying it to Kairin. All down its obsidian black blade was carved countless runes and other magical symbols. The weapon itself glowed a dull red, giving off a vaguely sinister and powerful aura. “This, as I have no doubt you have recognized by now, is Fenrir's Wrath. One of the few remaining legendary Swords of Hades in known existence, and it belongs to my employer, along with many other priceless treasures and powerful trinkets. It could become yours, if you win. And haven't you been searching for this sort of power, with which to defeat your nemesis?”
Kairin's eyes widened in surprise. She had seen her share of rares before, and even owned one of the ultra rares of the world (her sword), but never had she glimpsed a legendary weapon. She put her weapon away. “Very well, then. It seems I have little choice anyways. I'll play your game...
...and I'll win it too!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well that was a waste of time, wasn't it?” Kairin whispered into the smoky air. An empty brandy glass sat near her hand on the counter. A plush replica of herself nodded beside her. “All that fighting, and I still haven't found a way to beat that damned merchant.”
She sighed, and stepped away from the bar, out into the gathering night. The air was cool, with a light breeze. Kairin raised her right arm up in front of her, looking through her fingers at the full moon. A faint hiss could be heard, as well oiled mechanical parts slid and rotated past each other to actuate the movement. She clenched her fist. “Just you wait, Cleese. I'll get you yet. I'll get you.”
As the wind continued to swirl about Kairin, she tensed. “And who might you be?” she growled. Kairin spun around, cocking her right arm back, a faint click coming from her arm as an unseen mechanism opened slightly, pressing against the coat sleeve.
Barely half a foot in front of her stood a tallish man, dressed in Victorian attire. “Ah, I see you've finally noticed me.” The man grinned, lips pulled into a sarcastic smirk. “The name's Sir Prize. I have come here with a proposition for you. You are Kairin Hughes, I presume?”
Kairin frowned slightly. “Yeah, that's me. What kind of a proposition are we talking here? I've no interest in hiring lackeys, if that's what you want, they cost too much and just get in my way.”
A voice floated seemingly out of nowhere. “My my, doesn't she have a tongue. Oh ho, this should be fun indeed!”
Kairin started. “Who's there! Show yourself!” she shouted, her eyes flicking in vain from each shadowy doorway and alley to the next.
“Oh, that's just my partner, Miss Fortune. She can only be seen by those of the male gender, you see,” Sir Prize said, sounding somewhat bored. “Now, back to my proposition. I have no interest in becoming one of your...lackeys, as you put it, even I have rather a bit more pride than that. No, I come here to offer you an invitation. You've made quite a name for yourself fighting here in Byako, as a fighter with little mercy. My employer has marked you as a promising rising villain, as new as you may be, and would like to invite you to Sinister End to compete in a tournament. It will be very different from what you experienced here though. You will be free to do whatever you like, without petty limitations like 'no deaths.' My employer is looking for the best of the worst, you see, and is prepared to offer you whatever you might ask for, should you win.”
“Sounds like my kind of place.” Kairin smiled slightly. “Whatever I ask for, eh? No offense to you, but I don't really trust those kinds of promises any more. No, I think you can leave me out of this one, as much as the opportunity to kill off other fighters sounds fun to me. Unless you can show me some proof of what your employer can offer me, I'm not interested.” She turned away, and began to walk down the empty street.
Sir Prize sighed. “Perhaps I was mistaken in my choice of words.” His voice dropped slightly, with a hint of steel. “When I said that you had been invited to join the tournament, I did not mean that you had a choice. My employer has tasked me with gathering the most talented villains of the world, and you will join whether you want to or not.”
“Tch.” Kairing stopped in mid-stride. “How annoying. You know, I never did like clingy people.” Kairin spun around, charging at Sir Prize. Her right coat arm exploded open into shreds as strong springs released, kicking a pair of blades out and forward from her forearm. With a thrust, she impaled Sir Prize on the blades all the way up to her fist...
Or rather, that's what should have happened. Instead, something rather different occurred. First, a screw came loose in Kairin's left leg, causing her to lose balance. Falling sideways, she swung her right arm around wildly in an attempt to catch onto something, and ended up slicing through a thin wooden support. Having lost one of its legs, the awning before the Byako Saloon came crashing down, landing squarely on Kairin's back.
As the dust settled, Miss Fortune's voice came floating once again through the dust. “Oh dear, I do hope I haven't overdone it. I wasn't really expecting to have to do this.” She giggled lightly.
With a loud crash, Kairin burst out of the wreckage, her sword held at the ready, staring furiously at Sir Prize. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right where you stand!”
“Miss Hughes, I do wish you would calm down for just a moment. And besides, Miss Fortune could quite easily stop you again.” Sir Prize sighed. “You asked for proof? Take a look at this. I was asked to show it to you, should you prove...difficult.” He pulled out a rapier from beneath his coat, displaying it to Kairin. All down its obsidian black blade was carved countless runes and other magical symbols. The weapon itself glowed a dull red, giving off a vaguely sinister and powerful aura. “This, as I have no doubt you have recognized by now, is Fenrir's Wrath. One of the few remaining legendary Swords of Hades in known existence, and it belongs to my employer, along with many other priceless treasures and powerful trinkets. It could become yours, if you win. And haven't you been searching for this sort of power, with which to defeat your nemesis?”
Kairin's eyes widened in surprise. She had seen her share of rares before, and even owned one of the ultra rares of the world (her sword), but never had she glimpsed a legendary weapon. She put her weapon away. “Very well, then. It seems I have little choice anyways. I'll play your game...
...and I'll win it too!”
Byako Round Robin 2 Audition
Audition entry into the 2nd BRR tournament, starting soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Johnson, come in, what's your status? Johnson? The fuck is going on in here! Saunders, report!”
“krzzzt....HOLY SHI....krzzt....B squad's wasted....A squad's holding tight for now....Holdren watch your back!...skrrshhHH...Fuck, we just lost Holdren, fall back!”
“Goddammit Saunders, who's attacking you?”
“We don't know! B team said something about some lady with metal limbs. C squad never reported, they just disappeared off the map. Radar's all jammed up, it's this damn interference. We've only confirmed one target, but that's what the computer says. I thought HQ only sent us in, but it's saying there's one [Sergeant, look out!] huh?.......krzzzzztttttt”
“Saunders! SAUNDERS! Shit! Doc, I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing up there. It's my men getting killed down here, and....Hey you, who the hell authorized you in ... skrrghhh”
-krshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-
An old man sits slumped over a harsh metal desk. A dozen monitors surround him, showing nothing but white noise. Behind him, a lone, bare bulb flickers dimly in the ceiling. “Fools. Those ignorant fools. Starting up VirtuWar again. After last time, I told them. I told them! But of course, why would they bother listening to me, the head programmer? Fools. All they can see is their 'perfect soldier.' Even now, I bet they wouldn't get it.”
More screaming is heard from a headset lying beside the old man. The chatter of machine gun fire echoes weakly in the small room, before that too is silenced. One thing still troubled the old man. The virus detected by the computer just before the incident started. It was that virus that initiated the auto lock-down which shut down the program. Or which should have shut down the program. It seemed like the virus kept the program going, like it was designed for just that purpose. And that was when the 17th player showed up. 16 were sent in to test VirtuWar. 17 now showed up on the screen. And it was that 17th player that was slaughtering the others.
A lady with metal limbs. A sword that glowed blue. Lightning bolts out of nowhere. An arm that wasn't an arm. The description could only mean one thing. It was the ReSpawn incident all over again. Except this time, the one coming out would be a lot less pleasant.
The headset was all but silent now. Not like any of them had much of a chance anyways. They didn't know what they were up against, and even if they did, would it have helped them? Not really, the old man decided. He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. Not much left to do now but wait.
Tak tak tak.....footsteps coming down the hallway. A slight hiss was heard, as the pneumatic doors slid open.
“Why hello, father. How nice to finally meet you.” A grin.
The old man just sat, unmoving. His eyes were hooded over, not focused on anything in particular, looking out through the observation window at the piles of servers, wire bundles, and other electronics in the warehouse floor below. “Welcome to the world. I take it you're not here to chat.”
“Well, it seems you're not completely clueless. Tell me. Where is Cleese?”
“No idea. Haven't seen him in months.”
“Oh? Perhaps this will jog your memory.”
Two quick steps brought her behind the old man. One hand spun the chair around. The other arm, shining metal plate except for where it was spattered with blood...split apart, two blades springing out. A quick thrust sent the deadly points through the man's shoulder, pinning him against the wall.
Red hot pain shot through his body, forcing a scream from his lungs. “I...I really don't know! Last I saw, he said something about finding an answer, and...and...a Byako tournament. Next thing I knew he was gone! I swear, that's all!”
“Hmm, well that's a pity.” The metal arm jerked sideways, internal springs kicking the twin blades outwards. The old man's lifeless body crumpled in a heap against a cabinet on the opposite side of the room, blood smeared in a wide stripe down the wall. “Byako, eh? Guess I'm headed there.”
-3 weeks later-
“Oy, you, up there, with the freak-ass arm!” Two small clockwork plushies looked up at the woman sitting at the bar. She wore a long sleeved jacket, and white gloves so her upper body was covered from neck to waist. The plushie who spoke was dressed identically.
“Well now, what have we here?” The woman looked at the plushies, grinning maliciously.
“Your wishes come true, milady." The plushie winked. Or did whatever it was one did with a button eye that passed for winking. "Says here you've gotten yourself invited to the Second Byako Round Robin. Oh, and here's a special helmet they told me to give you. Up to you if'n ye wants to wear it or not, but it signifies your acceptance into this here tourney. And one last thing. What's your name, babe? All they told me is to look for someone that looks exactly like me.”
“The name's Kairinostja Hughes. Call me Kairin."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Johnson, come in, what's your status? Johnson? The fuck is going on in here! Saunders, report!”
“krzzzt....HOLY SHI....krzzt....B squad's wasted....A squad's holding tight for now....Holdren watch your back!...skrrshhHH...Fuck, we just lost Holdren, fall back!”
“Goddammit Saunders, who's attacking you?”
“We don't know! B team said something about some lady with metal limbs. C squad never reported, they just disappeared off the map. Radar's all jammed up, it's this damn interference. We've only confirmed one target, but that's what the computer says. I thought HQ only sent us in, but it's saying there's one [Sergeant, look out!] huh?.......krzzzzztttttt”
“Saunders! SAUNDERS! Shit! Doc, I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing up there. It's my men getting killed down here, and....Hey you, who the hell authorized you in ... skrrghhh”
-krshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-
An old man sits slumped over a harsh metal desk. A dozen monitors surround him, showing nothing but white noise. Behind him, a lone, bare bulb flickers dimly in the ceiling. “Fools. Those ignorant fools. Starting up VirtuWar again. After last time, I told them. I told them! But of course, why would they bother listening to me, the head programmer? Fools. All they can see is their 'perfect soldier.' Even now, I bet they wouldn't get it.”
More screaming is heard from a headset lying beside the old man. The chatter of machine gun fire echoes weakly in the small room, before that too is silenced. One thing still troubled the old man. The virus detected by the computer just before the incident started. It was that virus that initiated the auto lock-down which shut down the program. Or which should have shut down the program. It seemed like the virus kept the program going, like it was designed for just that purpose. And that was when the 17th player showed up. 16 were sent in to test VirtuWar. 17 now showed up on the screen. And it was that 17th player that was slaughtering the others.
A lady with metal limbs. A sword that glowed blue. Lightning bolts out of nowhere. An arm that wasn't an arm. The description could only mean one thing. It was the ReSpawn incident all over again. Except this time, the one coming out would be a lot less pleasant.
The headset was all but silent now. Not like any of them had much of a chance anyways. They didn't know what they were up against, and even if they did, would it have helped them? Not really, the old man decided. He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. Not much left to do now but wait.
Tak tak tak.....footsteps coming down the hallway. A slight hiss was heard, as the pneumatic doors slid open.
“Why hello, father. How nice to finally meet you.” A grin.
The old man just sat, unmoving. His eyes were hooded over, not focused on anything in particular, looking out through the observation window at the piles of servers, wire bundles, and other electronics in the warehouse floor below. “Welcome to the world. I take it you're not here to chat.”
“Well, it seems you're not completely clueless. Tell me. Where is Cleese?”
“No idea. Haven't seen him in months.”
“Oh? Perhaps this will jog your memory.”
Two quick steps brought her behind the old man. One hand spun the chair around. The other arm, shining metal plate except for where it was spattered with blood...split apart, two blades springing out. A quick thrust sent the deadly points through the man's shoulder, pinning him against the wall.
Red hot pain shot through his body, forcing a scream from his lungs. “I...I really don't know! Last I saw, he said something about finding an answer, and...and...a Byako tournament. Next thing I knew he was gone! I swear, that's all!”
“Hmm, well that's a pity.” The metal arm jerked sideways, internal springs kicking the twin blades outwards. The old man's lifeless body crumpled in a heap against a cabinet on the opposite side of the room, blood smeared in a wide stripe down the wall. “Byako, eh? Guess I'm headed there.”
-3 weeks later-
“Oy, you, up there, with the freak-ass arm!” Two small clockwork plushies looked up at the woman sitting at the bar. She wore a long sleeved jacket, and white gloves so her upper body was covered from neck to waist. The plushie who spoke was dressed identically.
“Well now, what have we here?” The woman looked at the plushies, grinning maliciously.
“Your wishes come true, milady." The plushie winked. Or did whatever it was one did with a button eye that passed for winking. "Says here you've gotten yourself invited to the Second Byako Round Robin. Oh, and here's a special helmet they told me to give you. Up to you if'n ye wants to wear it or not, but it signifies your acceptance into this here tourney. And one last thing. What's your name, babe? All they told me is to look for someone that looks exactly like me.”
“The name's Kairinostja Hughes. Call me Kairin."
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