[☦]

☦

The assembled people step back quickly, leaving a circle surrounding eyeliner and the new crusader, Noah. The night encroaches, as clouds cover the moon, and hazy mist washes over the ground, grasping and tugging at the pantlegs of the two men.

"...I am sorry, comrade, for what I must do." Noah says, as he unsheathes the blade. It flashes brilliantly, before a shining white sheen settles on it, like the milky reflection of moonlight on a lake. "This is the duty of the Hand of God. And thought I did not ask for it, I must shoulder the same burden as the one before me."

Noah raises the blade, slowly, slowly, and it taps against eyeliner's chin, a delicate brush that, in any other circumstance, would mean nothing. Here, it means everything. Eyeliner begs and pleads under his breath, tears forming at his eyes, a desperation that chokes every word he attempts to sputter out.

Noah is speechless, as he grimaces at the power he wields, and the horrible sight of the burden of judgement. Doubt washes over him, for a moment, as he shudders and the blade trembles -- but it doesn't fall. Closing his eyes, clenching his teeth, he rushes forward and jams the blade into eyeliner's throat.

The man's eyes flash open, and his pupils constrict, tighter and tighter, until they are pinpricks the size of, ahem, pins. The blade screams, the metal whining from heat -- no light pours from this wound, no ash. Soon, the villagers realize quickly that it is not only the blade that screams. Eyeliner tears himself from the impaling of the blade, as he wails and screeches. His skin explodes into brilliant crimson flames, the skin charring and blackening -- blood falls onto the ground, a deep and vast scarlet, before exploding into flame itself.

Eyeliner stares down at his hands, which clench and unclench in unthinking agony, the skin flashing into flame, his bones blackening before his eyes. His face conflagrates, and he falls to the ground, screaming in unbearable agony and suffering, as his body is consumed by the inferno, a pillar of fire that roars and soars into the night sky. The crowd shrinks back from the intense heat.

Noah stares at the blackened char on the ground, and lifts his blade, quickly cooling -- and completely untouched. There is no trace of eyeliner -- it was as if he never existed. The emotion washes out of Noah, as he sheathes the blade, and everything it has done. Noah breathes slowly, his eyes closed in thought, before looking at the crowd before him.

"A demon has been slain tonight -- I think we can all agree on this fact," Noah says, gesturing at where the body once was. "Let us mourn for eyeliner, our comrade, tonight -- he was a good man once, before the demon wore his skin, lived his life. Let us never forget the man he really was."

Noah stands, turning to look over the entirety of the crowd.

"So let it be done. Rest well, brothers."

The crowd leaves Noah standing in the town square, where he looks at the statue of the angel, and thinks.

NIGHT III

citizen kandy kane

(In case it isn't clear, PBS is no longer in the game, both due to in-game and out-of-game circumstances, apparently.)

(i'm sorry for whatever's going on in your life right now, pbs. best of wishes!

also, sad fact: is it just me, or did this development actually feel like it's been foreshadowed? totally accidental miracle that it feels so natural and not like a cop-out.)

[DIVINE INTERVENTION]

DIVINE INTERVENTION

The townsfolk chat idly in the foggy square, mist roiling in waves over the ground. The sun hides behind a thick cloud cover, and the day is dreary, the color drained from the light.

The village is concerned over their missing savior; Peanutbuttershoes has not been sighted in much time, and he normally makes an appearance by now. Many note that he'd obviously been troubled lately; his honor was more of a burden, and his duty was more of a punishment. The weight of his conscience had been pushing down on him... and the people are unsure of just how hard.

Just as some resolute villagers decide to set out on a search party, the mist breaks, and reveals Peanutbuttershoes, wading into the center of the town, his coat thick with dirt and dust, his eyes sunken and tired. He was a haggard man.

"Move," he mumbles, as he pushes through the crowd, before throwing his blade onto the ground, where it slides out of its sheath smoothly. The people stare at it in great awe and fear.

"...I was chosen," the crusader says, shrugging off his hood. His hair is unkempt, much like himself right now. "I was chosen, and my duty was hard." He looks over the people, and then turns to face the statue of the angel.

"I was once a pious man. I believed in the unwavering mercy and compassion of God, and I felt he was always at my side, giving me strength, giving me life..." He looks down, unable to bear the sight of the sculpture any longer. "I was determined to live up to his expectations, to do my God-given duty. I was to be a crusader, a Hand of God."

Peanutbuttershoes whirls to face the gathered people, who shrink back in surprise. He clenches the air, before his arms fall to his sides in despair.

"I was wrong." Tears fall to the dusted ground. "I am not wise, I am not brave, and I am not strong. I am but a man..." He falls to the ground, prostrate to the heavens. "I am but a man, burdened to judge, cursed to kill. This was not an honor."

His fist slams against the ground, in abject rage.

"You hear the name 'The Hand of God', and I know I stand by the side of him, as his trusted evangel."

PBS stands up, staring at the sword on the ground.

"I forsake the role of Hand of God. I forsake my God-given duty. I forsake this damned honor, this cursed blessing... I was never strong enough, never good enough, never holy... I am a man consigned to orders unsaid, to fates unknown..."

"But all I am is a man! And I refuse to be shackled by the chains of destiny for any longer!" PBS roars to the heavens, and then looks back at his gathered audience. "And now that I have done so, I am no longer the Hand of God. God shall grant this blade to one pure of heart, innocent and strong... better than I, in every way."

PBS turns to the statue of the angel, his back to the crowd, and throws his hood back on.

"Good luck."

The crusader walks away, and the crowd stares at the sword, which has lost its gleaming shine, now dull and blunt on the ground. The villagers look to each other.

"Uhm, now what?" Someone asks. He reaches out to the blade tentatively -- and it shines brilliantly, a roaring light that blinds many in the crowd. The villager shirks back briefly, before a sudden wave of courage pushes him to grasp the blade firmly by the hilt. It burns with the brightness of the sun -- and then dulls, its blade red-hot to the touch of any but its true owner.

"...Well. That's unexpected," Noah says, before sheathing his new blade.

--
Peanutbuttershoes is no longer the Hand of God.
Noah is the new Hand of God.

gingerbreadman, you are absolutely phenomenal. I'm gonna sticky this to make it clear how important it is!

(I'm not a guy who is quick to disciplinary action, if you can't tell. It makes me feel bad. But no worries, the show will go on! I just wanted to give him a chance to work his way back, in case he had something come up for a bit.)

(If he doesn't show up by the end of today, I will take care of it.)

Peanutbuttershoes is not doing anything. That is why.

That's the problem with changing the system to rely on one person. 

I'm definitely going into high-school education of some sort, but the real issue is what topic I want to teach. I honestly like most of my subjects pretty equally, but my top three are easily Philosophy (which isn't usually a high school class, unfortunately), Mathematics, and Physics (or Chemistry, but I find it harder to teach that).

I am currently a student-teacher for an Advanced Algebra and Trigonometry class, which has been very enlightening so far -- and I intend to continue my student-teaching next year. I'll be aiming to student-teach for Calculus (my current favorite subject), or Physics (since I want to be well-rounded, this is a good backup option).

Blinkok's edit is nice. It looks more natural like that. She can look out at the player when standing, but running and looking in the wrong direction just looks weird.

Death on two le-e-e-egs!

The character's pieces are too small compared to the rest, that's all.

Pretty fun and simple game! I think some more variety in obstacles would work nicely (perhaps you could have an occasional swarm of lots of tiny meteors) -- and perhaps even a powerup that temporarily makes your boosting break apart stuff would be cool.

I also think that the death sequence could do with an animation of you explodin', or something.

Keep up the fantastic work, man!

(I will point out that I, your God, will always make note and narration of game actions done during the day.)

She fell off the internet's radar, but that's the extent of our knowledge.

[Nature:]

Nature: Quirky
HP:   ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
ATK:  ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
DEF:  ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
SP.A.:■■■■■■■■■■■■■
SP.D.:■■■■■■■■■■■■■
SPD:  ■■■■■■■■■
Moves:
●Slack Off           ●ExtremeSpeed
●Flail                   ●Helping Hand
Dex entry:
"A goofy and lovable TIGermon, Inanimate approaches life with wonder and enthusiasm.
  Inanimate is prone to rambling for long periods of time, and is hopelessly weird."

(Was nix the one holding us up? If so... YEAH. IN YOUR FACE. THE HAND OF GOD HAS SPOKEN!!!)

(The day was normal game circumstances. The person I was waiting on submitted their action.)

[DAY III3/7☦]

DAY III
3/7
☦

The sun rises once more upon the dreary town, piercing through the morning mists. As the villagers wade out into the fading fog, they notice their crusader standing solemnly by the statue of the angel, staring up at its concrete serenity, at hope in stone.

The crusader looks away hastily from the statue, turning to look over the assembled people, before pointing at the house of Nix. A cursory glance makes his fate clear; the door has been torn off of its hinges, shredded wood and shattered metal lying on the ground. Ravaged dirt leads into windows crashed apart savagely, blood sprayed onto the frame and glass.

A brave soul ventures into the home, and immediately retches when he finds the body of Nix -- torn to pieces, his ribcage strained open like the victims before him, blood sprayed on the ceiling and walls, painting the scene a grisly rusted red. The villager covers the body with a tarp, and prays over it quickly, before turning back to the crowd and nodding.

"Another has died last night," The crusader says, and shakes his head in quiet sadness. "I have checked the other houses. This was the only death last night. Let us mourn for Nix..."

The crusader stands taller, and unsheathes his blade, which shines and shimmers in the dawn's light with a pure certainty of its duty.

"But know this, demons." The crusader turns, glaring over the crowd, his blade swinging through the air with audible sharpness. "Mankind, the humble sheep of God, the meek, shall always inherit the world, shall always triumph over evil." The Hand of God raises his blade over his head, holding it aloft to the sky, before throwing it back into its sheath.

"Believe in God's triumph, and he shall. Believe in our triumph, and we shall." The crusader sits on the edge of the statue's base, and lowers his hat in thought.

"That is all."

--

Nix has died.

Avengers was great, yeah! I love action movies, and I love snappy dialogue. Seeing as it's Joss Whedon, even if the action sucked (which it didn't!), I would have pleeenty of snappy dialogue.