[R4-B1] The Batman vs Key

[Professor Ven]

ROUND 4 - BATTLE UNO
THE BATMAN VERSUS KEY


"Hellllllooo combatants! I, The Professor, and Ill Dottore LongLiveLife [wherever he may be], will be overseeing this fantastical duel of the fates!- if you like spreading mortar with that little spatula-tool and slaving away on that wall- But without further ado, let us begin!

Welcome to Mason City, a sprawling landscape of human civilizations' vast achievements in the realm of architecture and engineering! (and whatnot) Today you two combatants, will partake in the culmination of a long and weary road! Prepare your Avatars in this Arennaa, because, trust me, you wouldn't want to shit bricks today."


"Your RP Booths have been pre-configured for this match, simply step inside after plugging in your flash drives, and don the helmet firmly, or whatever it is you're supposed to do; not relevant anyway.

The rules are as thus within the limits of Mason City, and here's a 3-D image mapping of it. You can see here that the city itself has been virtually constructed in a valley from which there is no escape, unless you're a strong swimmer and decide to break the dam that powers the city itself. For an estimate of the dam's size, think about twice the size of the Three Gorges Dam in China. You both have free roam of the city and the dam. Beat each other with bricks until you're bloody! (smiling maniacal giggle)

Moving on, this illuminated work of engineering artistry that is Mason City, is compromised of every civilization's building that has existed in human history. As such, the pre-configured algorithms into this specific Battle give you only the power to construct buildings, walls, throw bricks at each other, smash the other braggart bloody with bricks! Your building limit is infinite, however, you must be explicitly detailed with what civilization's architecture you are controlling to smash your opponent in the face. We want fun and educational here - throw in a history of the civilization with the post-specified bricklaying or archways, and make it look good.


Now, I'm not supposed to tell you two this, but there's a specific way to achieve victory if you're out to kill the other person. However, if neither of you come close, then it'll be how well you have executed your RP Avatar's methods in this engagement."


"If more specific rulings apply or you just don't get something and are vastly confused beyond all recognition, please ask, and someone will assist you [me or Triple-L!]."


"BEGIN!"​

 

[Key]

((OOC: WOW, okay, this sounds like extreme fun. Do you need a template or do we just go?))

 

[Professor Ven]

((OOC: WOW, okay, this sounds like extreme fun. Do you need a template or do we just go?))

You should describe/template-esque your character in your first post.

 

[Solar]

((We're limited to only buildings, right? What about furniture, equipment, any other types of items?))

 

[Professor Ven]

Just buildings, unless Ill Dottore desires otherwise.

 

[LongLiveLife]

I'mma agree with my man Prof here. Buildings only.

(But who has ever heard of an armory without armaments inside it? Or a gym without heavy weights? Or a kitchen without knives?
hint hint)

 

[Solar]

Ink walked down the all-too-white walls of the building, trying to act as if he had all the time in the world. He didn’t. He walked slowly but with an excitable fervour. Yet none of it could be found on his too-pale face. The average man or woman would look at the youth’s slumped walk and poor posture coupled with his messy cobalt hair, the dark bags under his black eyes, the aforementioned skin and come to the conclusion he must’ve been extremely nervous for his battle. And then Ink would snort at them. Sure he was excited but there wasn’t any fear of failure or his opponent. Just a fear of the game.

Ink’s parents decided to name their future children after literature-related terms. Unfortunately, they did not have enough forethought to predict their imminent divorce which left Ink an only child and a rather bitter one at that. Either way, they were disappointed Ink was more of a ‘drawer’ than a writer. This was a misleading though amusing concept to Ink, who perceived his love for architecture as a form of writing. Architects, in their own way, told stories through their creations and ultimately expressed themselves through the noble art. They had their own recurring motifs, symbols, metaphors that manifested themselves into signature styles or nooks and crannies of the building.

Ink could’ve mused on forever about his favourite topic but his reassuring train of thoughts halted slowly to a stop as he approached the RP booth. With an apathetic nod and wave to his opponent who was also approaching, he stepped inside the booth. All too familiar to his creative impulses, a flicker of a metal laugh tickled against his mind; this was the first technical time he was in the machine as a battler. Plugging in his flash drive and then placing his helmet securely, as well as comfortably , on his noggin, he relaxed and leaned back. His eyes closed, he felt an odd sensation around his head, a slight vibration, and a flash of light before he opened his lids.