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[Ryan_Galen]

There are many legends about what gods do in their free time. The Greek gods in particular are infamous for having nothing but time on their hands, but others like the Norse where no less indulgent. This story isn’t about any gods you know about though. The works of these gods, if they ever created anything at all, have long burnt out. All they have left are their games, and the games of these gods are played exclusively with the lives of mortals.

It all started innocently enough, at least as far as divine blood baths could be considered innocent. The gods gathered the greatest warriors from across multiple creations, shoved them into an isolated arena, and had them fight for their amusement. This went on for a few centuries before the weight of having so many of existences’ most powerful warriors in one place exploded in their faces... literally.

Picking themselves up, the gods looked at what they had done and corrected their mistakes. This time rather than taking the most powerful warriors from across creations, they took the most powerful heroes. Heroes, they thought, would at least have some restraint in how they used their power. This assessment was correct as the heroes restrained their power against themselves and instead directed it entirely against the gods. This incarnation of the arena lasted about three weeks.

Patching up their wounded egos, the gods once again looked at what they had done and corrected their mistakes. This time they took the greatest and most powerful heroes, but also wiped all but the most operational of their memories. This appeared to be a winning combination, as the personality of heroes who knew of nothing but battle in the arena where the most willing yet disciplined warriors the gods could have asked for. This was of course till a few millennia latter when they drafted a hero who had friends powerful enough to track them down. The implication of what had been done to them rippled through the arena, and soon the gods found themselves facing several millennia worth of righteously ticked off heroes.

When the dust finally settled a century later, the gods picked themselves off and looked at what they had done. One would think that third time would have been the charm and that the gods had finally learned their lesson. Unfortunately gods exist on the confidence that they are infallible, and they would rather die than admit what they desired was wrong. So once again they went about creating a new arena...

...sixteen incarnation later, a new dawn rises on the latest incarnation of the arena. Sitting in the center of a clover like world, the arena would to an outside observer be an afterthought in a larger creation. That small structure sitting in the center of four unique wastelands will soon be populated by newly amnesiac warriors from across the creations, warriors selected not only for their great (yet manageable) power but also because few would mourn their disappearance: the depressed, the bloodthirsty, the insane, and the cursed. This time the gods would get their entertainment for all eternity...

...and failing that sell recordings of the action to NBC as a reality show.

[Ryan_Galen]

Yeah, my player is doing another writing project. Sure, he has countless other projects he needs to start or finish, but this is what has his drive in the here and now. As muses we’re responsible for inspiration and not motivation, so when he actually getting the drive to write anything me and Raf need to just go with it.

...besides, the batteries on the cattle prod ran out in June.

In any case, this is a writing project rather than a story because my player wants something from the community. He’s gotten to know some people at Crimson Flag through their chat, and in association some of them have gotten to know the current version of my younger counterpart, Raf Cian. The thing is that he really doesn’t know about any of you in Cannon Founder, and you certainly don’t know about me. I’m not just a handle, I’m his elder muse; Raf Cian handles brainstorming, I deal with storyboarding. I’m also his main character in almost everything. Sure, he gives the ferret some silly love ever once in awhile, but at the end of the day it all comes back to the character with some edge to him.

So this is a chance for everyone to get to know each other. All he really needs is for people to submit characters and he’ll get to writing them as best he can. Writing with other people’s characters is a weakness of his, so this is one way he hopes to get around it. I’m of course submitted for use as myself, so you all can get to know me, but none of you are pressured to submit anything so personal.

In any case, here’s an outline of what we need, followed by my own entry. As a final note, this is intended to be mostly independent on the writing end, but if people want to do something collaborative... well it’s something he’s never done before and this is a learning experience. Just speak up.

Name: Self Explanatory
Species: We’re mostly furies here so we’ll need at least one word from the animal kingdom. Anthropomorphic will be assumed unless specified otherwise. More original options will require some explanation on your part.
Gender: Self Explanatory
Height: Halfling, Average Small, Average Tall, or Giant. No numerical heights desired: this is a written story. Real people don’t walk around with tape measures.
Build: Frail, Thin, Desk Jockey, Club Body, Athletic, Body Builder, or whatever brief description you can come up with for one’s tone or lack thereof.
Palette: Skin/Fur color, plus eyes, hair, and any distinguishing features. Clothing not required.
Colors: Emo, Bloodthirsty, Insane, or Cursed. You’ll figure out why this is under color rather quickly in the story. List all that apply.
Personality: Self Explanatory, but please be verbose and well formatted in this part above all others. This is partly a challenge of his writing skill, and this is the part that will give us the most trouble.
Powers: Self Explanatory. This might not be an RP (at least I don’t intend for it to be), but the entire point is that this is an arena for some of the greatest warriors these misbehaving gods could gather for their amusement.

You might notice a lack of Past or Background in that form. That’s because characters are entering with memory wipes in this version. Party because the gods do at least learn some from their past mistakes, but also because the version of me that is entering doesn’t have an origin world to originate from.

Anyway, onto my entry.

Name: Ryan Galen
Species: Anthropomorphic Housecat
Gender: Male
Height: Average Tall
Build:Athletic
Palette: Mostly white fur with black left ear and caramel tail: categorically this makes him a calico. Blond tuff of hair and emerald eyes round him out. No distinguishing features.
Colors: Emo, Insane, and Cursed.
Personality: Ryan Galen is a reserved feline. This isn’t to call him brooding, as he is polite and helpful to most people, but he rarely volunteers information about himself. Also while he’s very patient with people, he has less patience towards ‘situation’; attacking robots, random demons, and the occasional dimensional invasion. Mind you sometimes people decide to make themselves ‘situations’, but thankfully he’s a warrior who reserves lethal force for those who are proven to be nonnegotiable abominations.
Power: A self taught martial fighting style that certain masters describe as the Inverse Puppet Master style, the focus of which is making his body move the way he needs it to regardless of what leverage and biology insists is possible. Also has a broad array of arcane knowledge, little of which is practical to bring to a traditional battle, and fount of power he doesn’t tap into willingly as it’s connected to a ‘berserker’ mode he prefers to avoid.

[Ryan_Galen]

The present stands on the shoulders of the past. Even the most unimportant events of our lives have a cascading influence on who we are today. Removing that foundation no more destroys who we are than it would destroy a well built house, but it certainly doesn’t help the issue of stability. What was once as sure as stone now teeters like a house of cards, holding it’s own breath to keep from falling in on itself.

That breath comes as inevitably as it would to a newborn, but disaster is adverted due to the odd quirk of the past: it’s always just happened. This moment’s present is next moment’s past, and as quickly as the walls waiver they find again new footing that gets more sure of itself with each breath. First breaths of a second birth, though one less kind than the one this old life first experienced. Happy birthday hero...

Ryan Galen would protest to being called a hero by the narration, if he was aware of the narration at all. As is he’s barely in a position to protest anything but the act of waking up as he stirs beneath his bedsheets. Reaching over towards his right he searches for a bedside clock to confirm the time left in the night; a futile gesture as he discovers the right side nightstand is completely bare. Groggy eyebrow raised as he cracks open his eyes, he scans the room to find his clock on the left hand side of the bed.

7am. Early enough to rise.

Throwing off the bed sheets, the feline warrior strides reflexively towards his bathroom door... only to find that it doesn’t seem to want to open. Searching for a lock on the frame, all he finds is a dial that doesn’t seem to want to turn. Raising an eyebrow, he turns around to examine the room only to find it to be in complete darkness aside from the dim light of the electric clock. Pausing as he adds this to his growing list of oddities before finding his way back to the bed and then searching the nightstands for a light.

Once illumination spreads across the room he gives it another scan. No windows, so that explains the lack of even background light despite the time of day. Aside from the bed and nightstand, the only furniture in the room is a dresser, chest, and a bookcase.. A bookcase which is empty. That leads to a closer examination of the room, revealing an almost complete lack of personal effects. Closest he finds is a pull up bar attacked to the wall for his morning routine... which given how the rest of his routine behavior has been going is an oddity in and of itself.

Aside from all that he finds three doors. The one he tried to use to no effect, a similar door with no adornments on it, and slightly more prominent door with a dial similar to the first. Taking the safer option of possibly walking into a closet, Ryan tries the unadorned door.

His feet are greeted by cold chill of bathroom tiles. Searching the sides of the wall next to the door he flips the light switch and looks around. Toilet, check. Shower, a bit large but check. Sink, built more like a kitchen sink but check. Grill... and refrigerator, plus a rack for pots and pans. A quick check of the fridge shows that it’s as empty as the bookcase, but this is starting to look like one strange apartment.

In any case, while the fridge might not be stocked the toiletries are. So without wasting any more time the calico gets on with the morning routine.

[Ryan_Galen]

And That's A Wrap
Yeah, I know, it was a short run, but there was just a lot of view and no responses. Even if my player could have made a good story with just myself and other OCs, it would have defeated the purpose.

More importantly, my character redesign is making rapid progress in other directions than what we set up here. The cerberus soul is taking a less cursed interpretation, and I'm... well my fur pattern is changing, to say the least. While it doesn't affect places I've been for a long time, I may as well be completely new here so there's no reason to come in with the changes intact... once their finalized.

If you're interested, a brief story can be found here. But for all intents and purposes, the Arena is being axed.

[Dragyn]

Ah.  Sorry to hear that.  I readily admit that I'm not very good at leaving feedback. 

Still, let us know if you write anything else.