gg :: 90th finale [ talon vs ellis ]
Apr 24, 2022 14:15:25 GMT -5
Post by L△LIA on Apr 24, 2022 14:15:25 GMT -5
This is your life and it's ending one moment at a time.— Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk
You awake inside your mech, comfortably sprawled on a pile of frayed patchwork cushions and the fluffy pelts of fallen mutts. Discovering that you've been tucked in for a good night's sleep doesn't feel like the same kindness as a parent or a sibling pulling the covers up under your chin, but still... you feel well rested, even if you also feel contempt about it.
At first the only thing your bleary eyes see is a world full of stars. Bright and colorful, the room is filled with electric graffiti and endless flashing lights. The air itself is dark, but everything else is blinding. You hear a slot machine ring out with the sound of a big win. The contradictions don't add up and finally you sit up with a jolt and, like the flick of a switch, reality comes alive.
While you can squint and see stars through the gaps in the crumbling roof of the Scrapyard, they're dim by comparison to the black lights and cartoonish neon masks peering down at you from the bleachers or the thumping bass and happy dinging of the music. You're surrounded by an audience of twenty-two familiar mech suits, awkwardly animated back into life as robots with twitching heads and malfunctioning limbs. Some have clearly never been used, unclaimed by those who fell first, while others you know far too well, having torn them apart with your own hands only yesterday.
Throughout the hulking forms of mech suits flicker the holograms of present and former Gamemakers, celebrity commentators, and high level Capitolites. Some are dressed in the colors of your own mech suit and wave ultraviolet signs lit up with your name; others are dressed in the colors of the final tribute standing between you and the crown, their bets clearly placed against you. Everywhere are freshly printed posters with both of your faces, advertising today's championship fight, and souvenir plushies in your likeness. You close your eyes and focus on the sound. The chants of your name are lost in the pulsating music, like you're at a rave, a club, an arcade, a gambling hall, a concert, a toy store. All of those things are a little bit true.
One of the mech suits absently takes a bite of a piece of fairy bread clutched in it's large mechanical hand, rainbow sprinkles falling right back out of a hole in its jaw, loose wires sparking. Sure, okay. That's normal. Obviously everything happening here is super normal. Dancing giant crabs wearing boots or cracked helmets. Technicolor monsters flickering in and out of your peripheral vision.
Averting your eyes from the uncanny scene, the ground beneath your feet is still wet, the freshly spray painted graffiti covering every surface of the Scrapyard smearing beneath your footsteps. The paint flows between cracks in the cement and sloshes around in rainbow pools where the floor has been busted into craters during battles of the past. It's like rain puddles of color and you realize there are open, dripping barrels of purple and red and green cluttered around steel pillars or yellow and orange piled haphazardly against walls. It's paint enough to drown in, paint enough to put on a real show.
Someone fires a sawn-off shotgun in the audience, glitter and colored smoke clouding the air. The voices surrounding you cackle and cheer and yell for more. The Fun Gun fires again, happy to answer the call to arms, but the collective anticipation only grows. It's not glitter they want. There is no paint red enough to sate them — not when they've been promised the fall of a steel titan.
You are the show.
Everyone applauds with excitement. Everyone applauds for you. You are adored. It must feel... wonderful to be this loved, right?
Time to rise and shine, sweetheart, it's a brand new day.
Welcome to the finale, tributes! Many congratulations on making it thus far. This is it, the end of all things. You may have as long as you need within reason to wrap things up, but please be considerate of your fellow tributes and mindful of the site's schedule.Tribute information:
D4 Talon Grey - 0 damage
Self Defense
Blades
D12 Ellis Gallagher - 0 damage
Blades
Rivalry