The Tipsy Tumult!

[bobthepen]

The Fumbler picked himself up from falling down all those stairs. (Overused? Hardly.) Oh. Fiddlesticks! He had dropped all those pocket realities on the way down.

Reality is a difficult thing to manage. The Fumbler tried his best, he really did, but sometimes things managed to slip through the cracks. Like that escalator he just fell down. Now little pocket realities were getting sucked under the bottom of the treads and he'd just have to wait for them to roll back up to the top...that was how it worked right?

Oh wait here was one! He picked up one of the pocket realities...or was it part of reality that goes in his pocket? Yes that was it, he put that slip of reality back in his pocket before walking back into the elevator (why had he even stopped on this floor?)

"WEEE!"

The Fumbler stood up from the base of the slide. That was a good choice, easy basement access. Here in the basement everything felt a tad more stable. As he approached the nearest stable, a friendly pony express rider greeted him.

"Hello Sir. Any messages to deliver today?"

"Oh...uhm..yes let me see here" The Fumbler reached into his pocket and pulled out that slip of paper. "Here you go! Deliver that one!"

The mail-truck driver took a look at the paper sheet and handed it back to The Fumbler.

"This is for you, Sir."

Sure enough the envelope was addressed to The Fumbler. He opened it's contents and read the letter within.

"Hey there buddy hows that universe treating ya? Listen I'm sending some folks your way. They're about to have a fight of sorts and I need you to take care of it for me. It's sort of the new thing but I'm busy at the moment so I figure you can handle it. I've put some directions in here I need you to follow. (Don't worry they won't change on you, I've seen to that.) Do this for me and I'll see if I can set you up with a nicer place mmkay? Thanks!"

The Fumbler looked further in the pack---no it was a letter-- further down the letter it read:

So you want to host a Grand Battle?

Follow these simple Rules!

Rule 1....

---------------------------
Woops! Slipped up when posting!...let me get my things together here...

Ahem.

This is a NON-CANON Grand Battle Spin-off! Yaaaaay!

"But wait" you ask, "why should I join a spin off when I can just join the real thing?"

"Ah-Ha!" I say waving my cane and pointing my finger at your astuteness. "But you see as with all good spin-offs this has a CATCH! And what is this catch you ask?"

You didn't.

"Well as you can see our good friend The Fumbler has a bit of difficulty keeping his reality coherent. It tends to shift and change rather frequently. Of course left to his own devices everything would shift willy-nilly! But that's where YOU come in!"

You begin to walk away, but the cage locks around you.

"Now now not so fast! You see you get to determine what aspects of reality shift with every post you make! At the start of each story-post, simply state in a spoiler tag:

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"Old word -> new word"

and then every instance of "Old word" in the previous post will be read as "New word" and the story will continue as such! Understand?"

You claw at the bars.

"Of course how silly of me! Here is an example!:

'Jacob Longbeard withdrew his sword from his sheath. It glittered in the sunlight. For years this sword had proved an invaluable tool, and his only friend. Ancient engravings enchanted the sword with a mysterious power which allowed it to cut through any material. In a single swipe he cut the vicious fang-beast in twain.'

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Sword -> Baguette

'Jacob wiped the blood off his enchanted french baked good. Yes for years this same loaf of bread had protected him from many foes. He glanced over the words engraved on its flaky crust...perhaps just one bite....'


See! Easy as that! You nod in agreement! Whoops!"

I prod your head into a nod of agreement.

You bat away the cane and cry for your release.

"Now now you'll be released soon enough. Just fill out this form and proceed to write several pages of humorous wordplay!"

Username: Because I've included this in all of my forms so far, and I'm not stoppin' now!

Name: Your character's name.

Gender: If you can't figure this field out, I can't help you.

Race: Your species. Are you a human? A sentient suit of armor? An undead vaccuum cleaner? A starry blob from the far reaches of the galaxy? We've had all of these. Go nuts.

Colour: Pick a color that you'll post in, and your character speaks in. Helps differentiate the posts and dialogue.008080 is off limits.

Weapons/Abilities: Merged into one category for ease. What does your character do? How do they defend themselves? What makes your character special enough to be chosen for this battle?

Description: Who is your character? What do they look like, and what's their personality?

Biography: Finally, who was your character before they were brought to the battle?

"Just as a note, we want to keep these posts short! Lets say about 500 give or take a few hundred words. Also, when you change a word, it has to make grammatical sense in the context of the previous post. No changing adjectives with verbs and what not! Otherwise your change will be invalid! YIKES!"


Slots:
1. Dragon Fogel - Ted Fischer
2. Solaris - Samuel
3. GreyGabe -Nanny Grindotron
4. TimeothyHour - Jonathan "McCarthy" Jones
5. pugnaciousSchismatic - Little Aaron Whitherspoon
6. Wojjan - Berelindt
7. Akumu - Zeke Cooper
*rubble*

[Dragon Fogel]

Probably signing up, but I need to think of a character first.

So, reserved?

[bobthepen]

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"Probably" -> "Absolutely"

Good to have you on board!

[Anomaly]

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"on" -> "over"

I think Fogel's drowning. Oh dear.

Anyway, reserved.

[Anomaly]

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"reserved" -> "awesome"

Gee, thanks, Fogel.

[bobthepen]

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"Resreved" wasn't mentioned in Fogel's post! Text in spoilers doesn't count.

NOTE TO SELF: DON'T REQUEST POST DELETIONS.

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Oh but hey I found this:

I think Fogel's dancing. Oh dear.

[Solaris]

ill see if i can cook up somethign suitably fun later i guess, posssibly after school or after a nice, brisk walk.
Reserved.

[Airey]

removed since im using this character elsewhere.

[Dragon Fogel]

Hey, look! An actual profile!

Username: Dragon Fogel

Name: Ted Fischer

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Colour: How about dark blue?

Weapons/Abilities: Ted is a perfectly ordinary human from a roughly modern era with no unusual abilities of his own. However, he has one noteworthy piece of equipment: a silver amulet which he always wears around his neck. Ever since he found the amulet, Ted's mind has not been his own. Under the amulet's control, Ted has secretly murdered thousands of people in rather gruesome and unusual ways.

Ted is also a trained accountant and a decent golfer. The amulet can command him to use this or any other knowledge available to him at any time.

Description: Ted is a rather plain-looking blond-haired man in his late 20s. He has a little bit of beard stubble because he's been trying to grow a beard lately. He usually wears a suit, with the amulet hidden underneath his shirt.

Ted's personality is now thoroughly subservient to the amulet, but he can be ordered to "act naturally" by it. When he does, he's very friendly and outgoing, right up to the moment he slips the knife into your back.

Biography: After Ted got his accounting degree, he soon found himself with a job in a high-profile auditing firm. One of his first audits led him to stumble upon what seemed to be a rather large-scale money laundering scheme. However, digging a little deeper, he found that nearly all of the higher-ups were in the embezzler's pocket. Feeling determined to see justice done, he went to the conman's house himself in the middle of the night.

When he arrived, he found somebody else there - a crazed hobo with a knife, slitting the money launderer's throat. Ted caught the would-be murderer by surprise, and in the ensuing struggle, ended up stabbing him in the heart.

Ted was terrified. He'd never killed before.

Then he noticed a strange amulet around the hobo's neck. He felt compelled to put it on.

From that moment on, Ted Fischer was no more. He was nothing more than a puppet for the amulet. He murdered at its whim, never questioning why, never receiving the slightest hint as to its objective.

Eventually, Ted was found out. But when the police came for him, they found his house empty, as though he had suddenly vanished...

[Solaris]

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"hobo" -> "walrus"

Username: Solaris

Name: Samuel

Gender: Male

Race: Gorilla

Colour: A pleasant green for no real reason, #39B54A

Weapons/Abilities: Stretchy and resistant arms and average human intelligence. A neat suit that prevents damage from extreme temperatures and the like.

Description: A black gorilla with cyan, stretchy arms, wearing a full-body black spandex uniform. His temperament is quite normal, although he does at times let his baser instincts take over. He loves his family and friends and does not get very angry or serious unless they are threatened. Overall, he is a swell ape, a great baby sitter, and almost the nicest guy this side of the states. Unless you toss in a stereotypical wild monkey joke or something, then he starts to do things like spike your drink and other similar prankstery things.

Biography: Samuel was a normal gorilla until a space rock fell into his cage in the Central Park Zoo. The Rock dissolved and Samuel quickly dismissed it, until it came to life in the night and covered his arms completley. The goo changed his molecular structure and in addition gave him average human intelligence. His armed changed into a glowing cyan but the rest of the body retained it's regular black fur.
He was later picked up by one of the many super hero groups running around the Big Apple, and as a result learned to keep his powers in control. He is a reasonably swell person to hang around with. Likes his biscuits and various foods like anyone else. He does not enjoy jokes about bananas or poo though, he is more dignified than that. He truly cares for the superhero family that let him in and he would do anything to defend those who he finds good. He has a bit of a wild side when he gets angry, but those kinds of situations are very rare.

[bobthepen]

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I'm afraid that character profiles are immune to word swaps! (for now...)

You are both added.

I may have to get more aggressive in my recruiting tactics.

[GreyGabe]

Obviously, feel free to reject this if you think it is just too ridiculous.


Username: GreyGabe

Name: Nanny Grindotron

Gender: Technically none, nominally female.

Race: Robo-fairy godmother.

Color: Dark Orchid.

Weapons/Abilities: Nanny Grindotron is armed with a hydraulic, clamp-like claw (right arm), a four-fingered hand with a powerful grip (left arm), and various sizes of drills which extend from her chest cavity, which were originally designed for mining. In addition to this, in her hand she holds a sparkling wand with a tip the shape of a star, used primarily for granting wishes and making dreams come true. NG has a specialized version of telepathy, which allows her to catch glimpses of people’s dreams. Once seen, NG will do her very best to make these dreams a reality! Which she's remarkably good at, given her innate magical abilities. She is able to summon all manner of object and creature, create copies of people, teleport people great distances, and various other things. Fortunately, she only uses the majority of her abilities in the process of her task. Indeed, she seems largely ignorant of her abilities when not forced to use them in dream-granting. She can still perform basic spells and conjurations to defend herself, however, and her hydraulic claw is plenty strong enough to crush a human skull like a hard-boiled egg. NG can also fly over moderate distances. More on that below.

Description: Nanny Grindotron is six feet nine inches of smooth, gleaming stainless steel. She was originally designed as a mining robot, and this is reflected in her blocky, stable design. Her four legs are short and somewhat crab like, providing decent stability and shock absorption at the expense of mobility. Her arms fold in close to her body, but can extend on multiple joints out to three feet. The drills in her chest cavity extend from a compartment in the center of her chest. There are several sizes, from one a few centimeters across to one a full foot in diameter (which says something about NG’s… girth. She is quite wide and thick. It may be unwise to note this to her face.). Speaking of face… NG’s head is dome shaped, incorporating sensors, speakers, and cameras behind a stylized, smiling human face; round, shiny black eyes and a welded-on “smile.” On either side of her head are the speaker grates. Her head is capable of turning 360 degrees in either direction. Otherwise, there would be very little to distinguish her from other grindotrons if not for the large, dragonfly-like wings and a sparkly purple tutu. Surprisingly, these wings can suspend her impressive bulk and allow NG to move at moderate speed. She can only sustain flight for a few minutes at a time, before stopping to “rest.” As for personality, NG is remarkably cheerful and upbeat, for a robot. Things seldom knock her down, and when they do, she bounces back with impressive verve. In fact, NG is cheery even when events may call for serious attention. Her voice, a feminine, high pitched patter, is humorous in relation to her bulky, utilitarian form.

Her only desires are “helping” people by making their dreams come true. Unfortunately, due to her robotic nature, she has difficulty grasping the subtleties of her chosen duty. In fact, she takes it quite literally. She will attempt to summon an individual’s dreams into the real world, regardless of the contents. Strong willed individuals can resist, but NG will keep trying until they are tired out or it becomes obvious they cannot be overcome, at which point she will move on to someone else. Despite her happy demeanor, NG approaches things with the single-minded tenacity of a robot.

On an interesting note, she no longer likes digging, and will avoid it whenever possible, complaining of “getting dirt under her fingernails”. She has no problem using her drills for more unorthodox uses, such as removing locks, opening packages, and once, ice sculpting.

Biography: Nanny Grindotron was once a typical, completely mundane grindotron unit, manufactured by the Malcara Technologies Division. However, one day during routine digging operations, a fairy godmother appeared to it offering to make its dreams come true. This unfortunate pixie had just extricated herself from a rather raucous bachelorette party, and was thus too highly intoxicated to notice that her chosen target lacked even basic sentience, much less hopes and dreams. Assuming that the robot was playing hard to get, she waited for its chest compartment to open so she could “get a lookshie at dem dreamsh” for herself. Unfortunately, she was unable to proceed much further, for she became entangled by the various gears and belts the grindotron used to rotate between drills. Unable to liberate herself, she was rather brutally compressed and ground until there was little left but sparkly, pink paste which smelled vaguely of tequila. During the process of her unpleasant demise, much… let’s say… splashing took place, ensuring the machine’s innards were coated top to bottom in magical residue. This slowly eked its way into the grindotron's circuits and motherboard, altering its programming irrevocably.

Nanny Grindotron now wished only to make dreams come true, and thus armed herself with a wand and a frilly skirt. She then flew off to spread joy and love to everyone. NG’s adventures were as numerous as they were ill-advised and often ended horribly for everyone involved. NG was just trying to comprehend why her latest victim client was so upset. He was the one who had dreamed about the flying snake-bears. She couldn’t figure out what the problem was. She had just made his dream come true! Just as she was going to explain for the fifteenth time that she wouldn’t dispel them because this was obviously what he wanted, she was whisked away to parts unknown. The man was then slowly and horrifically killed and eaten by snakes with bear-heads and glowing red eyes.

Not all dreams are meant to come true.

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I had this idea and it just... I don't even know. Let me know if someone has already done something like this...

[Dragon Fogel]

There are themes in there that other characters have touched on, but none of them were quite so ridiculous.

I like it!

[Ed]

Aagaghhh this looks so fun but i have things to do already and and...

i'll reserve for now, i'll not have time until tomorrow night though, if someone claims my spot before i post my character then feel free to not include me.

[TimeothyHour]

You know what, I'm never going to use this character anywhere else, so here we are:

Username: TimeothyHour

Name: Jonathan "McCarthy" Jones.

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Colour: Red on black plz

Weapons/Abilities: McCarthy is a pro at compiling lists and information, and keeps several notepads on him at all time, giving him his nickname. Like everyone in the Great Rebel Anarchist Underground (GRAU), McCarthy has training in improvised explosives and weaponry, and general hand-to-hand combat. He also specializes in staff weaponry and parkour.


Description: McCarthy is rather spindly with some muscle and pale due to his time running about the darkened Anarchist underground running information between isolated groups or rebels. His hair and clothing are black in order to remain hidden in the shadows, and he wears a trench coat loaded with various improvised explosives and weapons.

Personality wise, McCarthy is socially awkward and rather tactless. He prefers the statistical work he goes through rather than actually work with humans. He has a bit of a short temper and is easily annoyed, and considering the fact he is loaded down with weapons, his rash behavior sometimes has massive consequences.

Biography: McCarthy was born in the heat of the rebellion against the Empire. Born an Anarchist, raised an Anarchist, McCarthy had to live with the psychological and emotional stress associated with a civil war when growing up, resulting in a stunted social life. Finding a love of numbers and statistics, McCarthy became a number cruncher and information runner for The Underground, and was infamous for his tactlessness and number-crunching ability.



Until, of course, he disappeared one day when running a very important message...

[pugnaciousSchismatic]

Username: pugnaciousSchismatic

Name: Little Aaron Whitherspoon

Gender: male

Race: human

Colour: Orange, because it's not as noticable in the desert.

Weapons/Abilities: Little Aaron Witherspoon rather likes his umbrella, which has kept both the sand and zombie organs off of him since he found it in an abandoned dump. If his battered umbrella ever fails him, he has a pistol in his trousers, along with some random bullets. As far as abilities go, he is an exceptional shooter for his age, and his manners are exemplary.

Description: He reaches an amazing height of five feet, three inches, which is really useful for crawling into tight spaces. He wears a pair of plain black pants, a white dress-shirt carefully tucked into it. His light-brown hair is shaved off, because there have been plenty of people that have died because their hair was just a bit too grab-able. On his hands is a couple of heavy-duty rubber cleaning gloves. It just wouldn't do if he had a bit of spleen on his ten-year-old hands.

Biography: Before the zombie apocalypse that directly preceded his birth, Aaron’s parents lived in a small adobe hut in the middle of New Mexico, along with his Nanny, Rwanda. When he was born, his father was already slaying the undead with a hatchet, a splintered baseball bat, and random cutlery.
Little Aaron’s mother was bitten by a wayward wanderer while she was tending to some laundry. He, at only the age of eight, watched as she changed, and saw the bullet go through her head.
His father refused to stay in the hut after that, so they loaded his grandmother into a deserted mini -van, and went to an Army post in Phoenix. Shortly after, Little Aaron’s dad killed himself.
Rwanda then went out of her way to raise the boy properly, teaching him etiquette and chivalry, and how to fix a car. Of course, being only nine, most of the important things the elderly woman taught him were lost to information about water-holes and junk yards.
Of course, within the year, Rwanda also died. She passed away from old age. With this loss, Aaron gave up on being close to anyone else. When no one was looking, he snuck out of the base and began to make his way back to the mud house in which he was born.

[Ed]

Ugh sorry i think i'll pass once again, so much stuff to do yet. I'm sorry :c

[Wojjan]

Awesome

[Akumu]

Username: Akumu

Name: Zeke Cooper

Gender: Formerly male

Race: Formerly human

Color: #880000

Description: Zeke is a cloud of flying insects, generally in the shape of a human male, though this is subject to his whim. He has little personality to speak of; his emotional state one of constant irrational rage.

Weapons/Abilities: Zeke's consciousness is networked throughout the swarm of insects that forms his body, he has no organs and thus true death will only come when the swarm is destroyed or dissipated. Zeke's cognitive abilities will degrade as the swarm decreases, but this can be renewed with new insects. Any animal near Zeke will feel the same untargeted rage that Zeke does, to a greater effect the less developed their mind. Insects are primitive enough to be completely overtaken by this effect and absorbed into Zeke.

Biography: After being let go from his job as a demolitions technician for a West Virginian strip-mining concern, Zeke Cooper decided to let off some steam at nature for being more important than his livelihood in the best way he knew: a hunting trip. Though comparing the amount of ammunition to the amount of beer brought along, a neutral observer may have been more inclined to call it a drinking trip. Either way, it was the last trip Zeke Cooper would ever take. He was already four sheets to the wind when he stepped into a clearing to find a writhing ball of tentacles undulating around an eight-point buck who seemed not concerned in the slightest. Zeke's first shot went wide, and the tentacles reoriented towards him. In his head, Zeke heard the thing explain that it meant no harm, and was only a scientist on an ecological survey. This was exactly the wrong thing to tell a man just out of work due to an environmental impact report: the next shot was closer to the mark, blowing off a handful of tentacles. In retaliation, the surveyor shredded Zeke's mind and shot off into the sky, leaving Zeke lying dead on the forest floor.

The residue of the psychic energies that had ended Zeke's human life offered him a new existence as the insect scavengers of the forest fell under their sway. Zeke could feel his mind coming back together as they gathered, but was stuck in that final emotional state, able to think but to feel nothing but a murderous rage. Since then he has wandered, killing where he can and influencing others to do so where he can not.

[bobthepen]

So excited!

Also Wojjan if that is a reserve you need to clarify!

Note:
The "word swap" only works on the post immediately before yours. However, what ever changes are incurred by that swap are assumed to have always been there. (Kind of a "what pumpkin" scenario.) There are lots of ways to play it though.

In the "sword" -> "baguette" example, even though the word was only changed for the post before it, what exactly that implies can be up to the authors.

So, while the text would then read:

'Jacob Longbeard withdrew his baguette from his sheath. It glittered in the sunlight. For years this baguette had proved an invaluable tool, and his only friend. Ancient engravings enchanted the baguette with a mysterious power which allowed it to cut through any material. In a single swipe he cut the vicious fang-beast in twain.'

Subsequent authors could take this to mean that there was never a sword at all, and only a baguette, or that he has a sword (assuming it was mentioned previously) and also an enchanted baguette. As long as the connotation remains reasonably clear and consistent (in this case if you mean the latter, it would need to be clarified pretty quickly).

Probably the best way to think about this is (assuming the former implication), at one point it was a sword, but now it is a baguette, but nobody recalls it being a sword, even though certain aspects of reality may suggest otherwise.

The latter implies that at one point he did not have the baguette, but then he suddenly got one and it seems perfectly normal to everyone present, even though other aspects of reality may suggest otherwise.

The same thing would apply to actions/adverbs except the action was never the first action and only the second action...except in cases where the action is ongoing...mostly.

Actually the best way to think about it is to not think about it.

If there is any confusion or clarification needed I'll be the one to step in and GM a judgement call. With a word swap every post this is bound to get crazy pretty quickly so don't be surprised if I step in now and again to keep things somewhat coherent.

tl;dr
Reality is a Jenga of words. I'll put things back if it topples over.




e-- I'm marking this as "Full?". Though really the next two completed characters will be accepted. THE RACE IS ON.

[Wojjan]

No that was an actual reserve please don't make this a race I could take forever.

[bobthepen]

oh okay! Try not to take too long though! I'd like for this to be pretty fast paced as far as grand battles go!

[Wojjan]

Username: Double U, double J.

Name: Berelindt

Gender: Orb.

Race: Orb.

Colour: IndianRed

Weapons/Abilities: Berelindt feeds only on entrpoy and neglect and decay and all those forces that can make a world no longer a world. Instead of just outright starting to maim ours, though, it goes for a little more of a subtle approach. By grafting pocket spaces in all parallel realities at once, it can eat away the current situation entirely and create a new world on its own. And that world will soon again be destroyed, so Berelindt can feed on it. No immediate effect can be noticed from touching a pocket dimension, aside from entering it.

Description/Biography: Berelindt was created to be a weapon, of some sort. A sword, perhaps, that could cleave reality itself and cause dreading chaos. A gun, its shot resounding in every universe and multiverse at once and tearing small holes through which one leaks into the other. A little paper shredder, even. Maybe it could, like, tear the fabric of the documents of reality labeled top secret?

Instead, the Acolytes of Anarchy (and admirers of alliterations) ended up with what they named Berelindt, after one of their unsung occult deities. An ball. A glass ball, fragile and inutile beyond belief, apparently serving more as a decorative piece in a snowglobe shop than a power of decay. Marked with red posies in fine ink on its glazed surface, even. What a load of fancy bullshit.

"What a load of fancy bullshit!" Berelindt flew through the arid air in the summoning chamber, by the hand of Graywin Falanor, ever prominent in the occult scene. "The ritual promised a force of death, not some low-ranked soothsayer's gizmo!" Worrying adepts had already put an unmoving hex on the orb. Berelindt hung in place.

"Just, just take it away. We'll start over again... sometime."

"Um, it's already gone..."

"Great, whatever."

And with the precision of a hawk, but the skills of about the exact opposite, Berelindt was gone right before its ultimate disappearance. This is becoming rather a trend, isn't it?

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Never again writing a profile with a DS. Looking this over, it's too succint and bare-bones, but then again Berelindt doesn't need a lot of backstory. I'll keep it at this for now (busy busy birthday stuff) until I someday decide to suddenly revamp it a bit. I promise my writing will be okay again once it starts!

[bobthepen]

mmkay! Wojjan is added officially to the list but we are still waiting on Anomaly!

Given that he's been pretty busy with a multitude of things, I'm going to open up his slot unless he requests otherwise.

Only one more entry to go then!

[bobthepen]

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"open" -> "blow"

*KABOOM*

Welp, Anomaly's slot has been obliterated.

Looks like it's time to start!

But first!

1. Dragon Fogel - Ted Fischer
2. Solaris - Samuel
3. GreyGabe -Nanny Grindotron
4. TimeothyHour - Jonathan "McCarthy" Jones
5. pugnaciousSchismatic - Little Aaron Whitherspoon
6. Wojjan - Berelindt
7. Akumu - Zeke Cooper

Here is the current player list ordered in terms of who reserved first. Before we start each player will do a word swap on the character bio of the person below them on the list (DF -> Solaris -> GreyGabe -> TimeothyHour -> pS -> Wojjan -> Akumu -> DF)

Once all those word swaps are posted here we will start Round 1!