User talk:Flashfire212

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I left you a previous message before you archived. Please read it.--Kagi mizu -Seeya 'round 04:56, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Thank you Flash. I'll do my best. Death's Little Pony 04:59, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I think it would be best to demote White. First and foremost, he hasn't gone through the proper nominations and channels. Second, he's far too passionate about the situation. When he's calm he told me that politics and admiship wasn't to his tastes. However after this he's become too passionate and gung-ho about the situation.--Kagi mizu -Seeya 'round 05:03, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

I respectively ask to be demoted. I knew there was something I forgot here, and this was it. Please, and thank you.

I think it be best to block Guy permanently. It's clear he's only going to cause further issues at this rate.--Kagi mizu -Seeya 'round 05:04, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Okay, but I would suggest lifting it before it runs its course. It's simply because of the timing of it all is really lousy. I get that Ryu forgave him, but with his record and experience, he still should've known better than what he did. Prior to issuing the ban, I asked Light, Shima, and Memph. Both Light and Shima agreed with his ban, while Memph remained neutral.--Kagi mizu -Seeya 'round 05:27, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

No, not reinstate, I mean I asked them when I put the ban in place in the first place. If you're going to let him off with 1/4 the time he was given, fine. Just make sure he stays away from me and any of the blogs involving recent issues.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:33, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Okay. And if Guy's unbanned, demote White. He's certainly going to not be happy with this.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:37, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Um, Flash, could you hold off on that. There are various policies that need to be voted on. For one, a restriction on just how many times someone can earn and lose adminship.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:40, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, if we hurry we'll get substandard admins. Quality over quantity please.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:48, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

I can't edit blogs!! WTH!?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:56, September 11, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, could you momentarily make me an admin again? I'm having quite a big of trouble with something: I'm totally unable to change the content of blogs while using Monobook! I want to see if adminship changed anything.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:48, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

NOTHING. I. Can't. Do. ANYTHING. Not even add an additional italic to make a correction! Could you PLEASE try editing while using Monobook? See if you can edit any of your blogs, or any blogs PERIOD. I asked White and he couldn't, but maybe you could...--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:06, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

To be almost excessively specific: you can edit the content of a blog, WHILE using Monobook? And it doesn't send you to "Create a new Blog Post"? You'd be able to save the changes?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:12, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

Oh. So it's a bug of some sort. Well, that's a relief: I thought Wikia was doing something to phase out Monobook.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:19, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

But it doesn't edit it: you'd actually have to make an entirely new blog. So it's gotta be something wrong with it: even the people in Wikia aren't stupid enough to have something like that. And they especially aren't stupid enough to make a change like that w/o notification.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:27, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

......HOW? How do you change it when it goes to create a new blog post? I try going w/o a title, it says it's required. I go with the title of the blog I'm editing, it says it already exists. So what do you do that I can't?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:33, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

....Screenshot plz?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:49, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

While it's almost 1am here and I shoulda turned off the laptop at 11:30pm.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:53, September 12, 2011 (UTC)

Quick question. We gonna continue Tred x Elettricita here or on DA?

Okay then. Maybe we should mov it to DA. My brothers tend to read my couple pages and it ticks me off.

Cool. Well anyway. I think we should. You mind?

Okay. To DA.

A message from Memph,

"Flashfire,watching all the users ban together in the clean up has spurred something in me.As such I want to be of use and to make room for a new admin in my place,I humbly request a promotion to crat.I want to do this in order to supplement Schoolbuses rare appearance.Thank you for the time for reading this.

P.S.I'm staying,not leaving.'

This is the message he ask me to give you.Hikaruyami-having fun* 17:15, September 15, 2011 (UTC)

If he wants it, I'd suggest he wait for nomination. Being a crat is big business.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 17:21, September 15, 2011 (UTC)

Spongebob100: Hi there, I wonder if I can rejoin at your Roleplay called "Roleplay:Gender Switch", please?

Hey Flash, can I talk to you about somethin?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:27, September 17, 2011 (UTC)

G'night, Will! I love you! ^^ *hugs*--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "We don't just blow bubbles..."  -- "We blow bubbles with kittens inside them." 06:39, September 17, 2011 (UTC)

I just wanted to get something sorted out quickly. You see, as you know my second improvement blog has an admin restriction policy. The policy has gotten an overwhelming positive vote (greater than either of the other two policies), so I figure it might as well be active quite soon. However, the policy says that anyone who loses it twice can't get it back again, and well... we both know someone who falls under that description. Now this isn't anything personal or anything, but I just wanted to make sure that no unexpected complications arose later rather than taking care of them right now.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:39, September 17, 2011 (UTC)

I didn't really expect any malicious plans from him. Just worried about something happening to cause problems. But I am glad to see that my worries are unfounded *relieved sigh* Thank goodness...--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:47, September 17, 2011 (UTC)

(nods) Okay.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:55, September 17, 2011 (UTC)

You don't go DA that much do ya?

Owch, that sucks.....................wait, parental controls? How old are you?

.....................Oh. Okay. Australia? I never remember the time changes."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 12:58, September 17, 2011 (UTC)

Seeya, bud.

Flash, you need to block any new User with "Cillian" in their name: it's a sockpuppeting troll.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 09:48, September 18, 2011 (UTC)

Alright. Also, would it be fair to have the policies approved be made official after Sunday? It's a solid week (8 days actually) after I made the blog.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 09:55, September 18, 2011 (UTC)

Just deem them official, then somehow work them onto the Policy page. For now though, just calling it would be enough.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 10:03, September 18, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Flash, three things:
 * 1) You need to make the policies on my blog official; you haven't done that yet.
 * 2) Talk to SwetBrou, because they've vandalized and done a bit of trolling.
 * 3) Delete the two pics I marked for deletion, because they're stolen pictures.

Honestly, I can't wait to be an admin again (if I'm able to), because then I can handle this type of stuff myself.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:24, September 20, 2011 (UTC)

I can't remember names. However you should see them in Recent Changes or my contributions.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:35, September 20, 2011 (UTC)

IMPLYING I DON'T USE A DYNAMIC IP

GOTTA GO FAST

The Game Games BowlTim Buckleywww.cad-comic.comOneFeet. Why does everything smell like feet? Ethan groans, his sleep-addled brain fighting todistinguish reality from the fading fog of his dreams. It's like swimming in molasses, but smallfragments of recent memories start to break through the surface. Cupcakes... and... cats? Did I eat a catcupcake? Another piece of the puzzle falls into place, and his hand instinctively reaches for his head,but instead of finding his crown, or even his hair, he comes up with a handful of rough-spun fabric.After a moment of groggy confusion, he realizes that the cloth covers his face as well, the loose fiberstickling his nose.He tears off the hood and with it goes the musty smell of the old fabric. A deep breath of cool,fresh air helps clear the cobwebs from his mind. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes and blinks,trying to force them to adjust to the...Nothing. Blackness. Ethan sits in silence for a moment to be sure, periodically waving his handsin front of his face, reaching out in front of him, but to no avail. It's pitch black.“Hello?” He asks the darkness, a slight hollow echo his only response.There's a chill in the air, but the abrasive, hard ground is even colder. Concrete, Ethan guessesby the texture. He shifts to his hands and knees, tentatively exploring the darkness. It's not more than acouple of shuffles forward before his fingers clumsily bump into a wall. He follows the wall up withhis hands, until he's standing, his fingertips brushing along the rough grain of the surface. A gentleknock confirms it. Plywood.From there running the perimeter takes no time at all; the room is little larger than a closet.Pawing each wall in turn, he finds a seam running vertically down the center of one, and blindly tracesit with his fingers. Up... over... down again... a door? Ethan begins shoving, kicking, shouldering andyelling at the door but the exit, if it even is such, is unimpressed.Leaning against the door, breathing heavily, Ethan's mind races, flipping through thoughts like aRolodex of crazy. What is this? Why won't the door open? Is this part of the competition? Am I losingalready? Wait, did I even make it to the tournament? What if I was kidnapped?! What if there'ssurprise butt-sex on the other side of this door?! Ethan presses his head against the sheet of wood, sucking in his breath and holding as still aspossible, listening. His pulse pounds in his ear, but if there is anyone on the other side of the plywoodbarrier, they are holding just as still.Maybe it's a trick door! And before even completing the thought, Ethan is slamming hisforehead into the center of supposed door, attempting to headbutt his way out of his small woodenprison. A burst of light fills the room, not from an open door but from the billions of tiny stars thatflood Ethan's vision. Dazed, he stumbles back a step and sits down hard on his rear.Minutes, hours, it's hard to tell how much time passes in the darkness. It feels like an eternity.He covers every inch of the small room three times over, looking for clues, but comes up empty everytime. Finally, he resigns himself to sitting in the middle of the floor, rocking back and forth, mumblingcommercial jingles to himself. “Oh oh oh, oh oh spaghetti-O’s. Oh oh--”A loud click echoes through his small chamber, interrupting his stirring rendition of the classicCampbell's tune. At the soft whine of metallic hinges, Ethan is scrambling to his feet. A dim light nowoutlines the edges of the door in front of him, which now sits ajar. He blinks his eyes, unsure if they'replaying tricks on him. It wouldn't be the first time; a short while ago he would have sworn he'd seen akoala dancing in the corner of the small wooden box.Carefully he reaches out and taps the door, which swings forward another inch, allowing morelight in. The temptation of freedom overrides caution, and Ethan pushes the door wide open, squintingas his eyes adjust.Only a single light is on, high overhead in a sea of darkness. Immediately in front of him, Ethanspots a blue and gray hiking backpack hanging on a crude wooden stand in the shape of an upsidedown T. The floor is definitely concrete, old, gray and pockmarked, with scrapes and unidentifiablestains decorating its surface. Unfinished walls ring the small room he's in, sheets of plywood heldtogether and reinforced by rows of two-by-fours. Some of the wooden studs are visibly crooked. Notthe work of professional carpenters. Nine or ten feet up, the walls end, and beyond he can see onlyblack shadow.Ethan takes a couple of steps out of his former prison, glancing nervously from side to side.“No butt-sex, please,” he pleads under his breath. Moments pass and nobody jumps out to accost him.Satisfied that he's alone, at least in this room, curiosity gets the better of him. He heads for thebackpack.The loud clang of a breaker being flipped accompanies the sudden explosion of light fromoverhead. The blinding brightness is so immediate and overwhelming that Ethan staggers back a coupleof steps as he tries to shield his eyes, his first instinct to scurry back into the safety of his closet. Thecrackle of a loudspeaker and the following announcement stops him.“Rise and shine, competitors!”Ethan recognizes the voice instantly. Lucas.“You all know why you're here. You have the honor of competing in the very first Game GamesBowl. At the end of this trial one of you will be crowned the King or Queen of Winter-een-mas for oneyear!“Please listen closely to the rules of this event, as they will not be repeated. In front of each ofyou is a backpack. Inside you will all find the same items: food, water, a first-aid kit, and a paintballpistol with twelve rounds. The tournament will last the next twenty-one hours, so make them count!”Ethan's eyes are fixed on the backpack in front of him as Lucas's voice echoes around him.“Throughout this tournament arena there are currently eleven active game stations. Every threehours on the hour they will load up a new game. You will receive points based on your performance. Ifyou do not participate in the tournament game being played, you receive zero points.“Every time one of you is eliminated, a random game station will deactivate. There will alwaysbe one fewer active game stations than there are gamers, so stay on your toes and be ready to fight tocompete!“If you are directly hit with paint, you are eliminated from the competition. Taking out anothergamer wins you five points. Please do try to avoid shooting your fellow competitors in the face, thoughas a reminder, you all did sign liability waivers!“The winner is the Gamer with the highest score at the end of seven game rounds, or the lastone standing, whichever happens first! Good luck, and play it like you mean it!” A burst of static and aclick followed by silence marks the end of the broadcast.Well, he certainly took my concept to heart, Ethan muses. Games within games. Survival ofthe--The realization that he's been standing out in the open this entire time hits Ethan like a SuperThwomp. For all he knows the other competitors were already on the move during Lucas' speech, andwithout knowing how large the arena is, they could be around any corner. Panicked, Ethan grabs thebackpack off the stand and ducks back into the small closet.He crouches down, peering out as he watches for any sign of his opponents. High above, dozensof round industrial lamps bathe the arena in light, and he gets his first good look at the world behind theshort plywood walls. Straight ahead, sheets of rusty corrugated steel reach all the way to the ceiling,which itself is a massive network of pipes and duct-work at least three stories up. An old warehouse orfactory. A row of windows lines the wall, just shy of where it meets the ceiling. Most of the glass isbroken, and they're all boarded up from the outside. Abandoned, it seems. That explains the chill.Beyond the wooden stand that held his backpack, Ethan spots a short wooden bunker, slappedtogether from scrap wood; the sort of feature you'd see on a paintball field. It sits between two exits,rectangular doorways cut into the plywood walls, one on each side. Nearly everything is made of raw,unpainted wood, so the small gray plastic device sitting atop of the corner of a wall stands out. Acamera. The notion that his every move is being watched is unsettling, especially since at the momenthe's playing the part of a scared bunny rabbit afraid to leave its hole. He pushes the thought from hismind.Off to the right, in the distance, he sees a structure jutting up above the walls of the arena.Suspended on thick wooden stilts two stories up, it's a small box resembling a child's tree fort. Througha small window in the side Ethan can make out the glow of a monitor. One of the so-called 'gamestations.' Posted up in there, you'd be protected from nearly all sides, but the only way to reach itappears to be a rope ladder dangling underneath. Twenty feet of exposed climb that is likely visible toevery competitor in the arena.Above it, something else catches his eye. Hanging amongst the lights is a giant digital clock, itsglowing red numbers presumably counting down to the next tournament. Two hours, fifty one minutesleft. Below the timer sits a row of brightly colored 8-bit icons. A red and blue Koopa shell; Mariomushrooms; an invincibility star; one of those weird pinwheel Yashichi that Capcom likes to use. Hefurrows his brow. The seventh icon is a Mega Man energy tank, identical to the one sewn onto theshoulders of his jumpsuit. Then it dawns on him. Twelve competitors, twelve classic gaming icons.This is a scoreboard of some sort.Ethan turns his attention to his backpack, hastily unzipping it and then immediately regretting it.The sound of the zipper seems to echo and reverberate like machine-gun fire tearing through thesilence. He clutches the backpack to his chest and holds his breath, waiting for his opponents toconverge on his location.But they don't come.Stupid Ethan! Stupid stupid stupid! You need to be more careful than that! He quietly opens thebag and peers inside. Two bottles of water. Four granola bars. A small, white, plastic first-aid kit.Reaching inside he pulls out the anodized, blue metallic paintball pistol. The metal is cool in his hand,and he hefts it to get a feel for its weight. He doesn't recognize the brand, but he notices the magazinehas been glued in place.He slowly zips the backpack up and slings it over his shoulder, keeping the pistol in hand. Withno belt or pockets on his jumpsuit, he'll have to carry it, but it's better than not having it within reach ifhe needs it.Ethan glances up at the clock again. Two hours, forty two minutes. I need a plan, he decides. Fora moment he considers finding his way to the base of the elevated game station he spotted earlier, butquickly decides against it. Too many eyes might be watching. Will be watching. With twelve of us andonly eleven game stations, someone is going to have to go for that one. Let it be someone braver thanme.Instead Ethan starts looking at his other options. From the small courtyard his backpack was in,there are only the two exits, one to the left and one to the right. The path on the right looks like it leadsin the general direction of the raised fort. That's where people will go. Either to try and seize that gamestation, or looking for easy targets.Adjusting his backpack, he readies his pistol in front of him, and starts to move towards thedoor on the left. He resists every urge to run, and instead tries to focus on moving quickly and quietlyacross the concrete floor. He reaches the opening, pressing his back up against the wall the way he'sdone as Sam Fisher so many times before. After quick pause to listen for footsteps, he swings out intothe doorway, finger on the trigger.The room is slightly larger than the one he began in, but also more cluttered. He spots oldwooden shipping crates piled up to fashion makeshift bunkers. Barriers of various shapes and sizes andheights, some U-shaped, some just a single panel. All manner of different battlefield features waitingfor combatants. He stalks through the room, sticking to the walls as he makes his way towards adoorway on the far side. His aim nervously bounces back and forth between fortifications, expectingsomeone to pop out at any second.Ethan crosses room after room this way, prepared for an encounter, and finding none. He takesnote of his surroundings as he passes through the maze of passageways and walls. A large rope netdraped over some more crates, a pile of worn out rubber tires, various cubbyholes and crawlspacesmade out of hastily constructed plywood. Lots of great hiding places, but no game stations in sight.In the fourth room, Ethan ducks into one of these nooks, a small lean-to that he has to crouch toenter. He can't see the clock from here, but he estimates that its taken him about twenty minutes to getthis far. He delicately slips his backpack off his shoulder and unzips it, wincing at the telltale sound itmakes. Peeking out from his hiding spot, watching for signs of the other competitors, Ethan pulls out abottle of water and takes a sip.The concept of hunting eleven strangers, of being hunted himself, has preoccupied him untilnow, but the cool liquid brings to attention how very thirsty he is. He allows himself another generousswallow of the refreshing water, but then forces the cap back on and stuffs the bottle into the backpack.Conserve it, he reminds himself. This needs to last all day.A few uneventful rooms later and Ethan is just beginning to question if he's running in thewrong direction, if he's moving away from the game stations, when he spots the gentle blue glow of amonitor.Standing at the entrance to the room, there's another doorway directly opposite him. Along theright wall a crude staircase leads up to a landing over the wall, presumably providing convenient albeitexposed access to the adjacent room on the other side. The alcove underneath the stairs is walled off atfirst glance, but the light spilling out from the far side catches Ethan's eye.Completely obstructed from this entrance, the alcove would be totally exposed and open ifcoming from the other direction. Another gamer might already be holed up inside, and there's no way totell from where Ethan is standing. Still, it's the first accessible game station he's come across, and thegiant clock above is ticking away valuable seconds.Crouching, he does his best impression of walking on eggshells as he makes his way to the onlyother feature in the room, a small wooden paintball bunker made out of fresh two-by-fours and oldplanks of wood. Like everything else, the barrier looks like it was made in a hurry, and there are gapsbetween the planks. Ethan settles in behind the bunker, the pleasant smell of fresh lumber filling hisnostrils. Peering out through one of the gaps in the bunker, he watches for any signs of movement.From this vantage point the blue glare is unmistakeable, but Ethan still can't see the monitor, oranything (or anyone) else inside the alcove itself. The only way to get a clear look would be to walkover to the other doorway, putting himself in plain view of both the alcove and the next room over.Patience, Ethan thinks nervously as he glances up to the countdown overhead.Ten excruciatingly long minutes pass before Ethan is satisfied that either there's no one in thealcove, or they've fallen asleep. Creeping out from around the bunker, he makes his way around to thefar doorway in a wide, slow arc. His pistol raised, finger on the trigger, ready to fire at the first sign ofmovement, at the first noise that isn't his.As the interior of the enclosure comes into view, Ethan lets out the long, slow breath that hehadn't realized he'd been holding. The alcove is empty save for the small monitor mounted to the wall,a keyboard and mouse on a little wooden shelf, and a X-box controller hanging from its cord which,like all the other cables, disappears into the plywood.He quickly rushes over to the compartment, and as he gets there realizes it's much smaller thanit first looked. Uncomfortably small, he decides after crawling inside. There's absolutely no room tomaneuver or dodge if someone were to find him there. Trapped. Like shooting fish in a barrel. Theopen side of the alcove is a liability he can't ignore.Ethan rushes back over to the bunker in the center of the room, but one gentle push tells him allhe needs to know. It's too heavy to lift, and sliding it across the floor will make too much noise.Everyone in the warehouse would hear it, and that would defeat its purpose.He looks up at the clock again. One hour, two minutes. His mind races, looking for options. Itlocks on to something he saw two rooms back; the pile of worn out tires. Three or four of them shouldbe adequate to conceal the open side of the alcove, at least for the most part. And he could roll themhere without making too much noise. It would be extremely risky; the more time he spent running backand forth between rooms the higher the chance that he'd cross paths with another gamer. But thethought of spending the next hour trapped in that alcove with no cover tips the scales. He sets offrunning.The tires are old and worn, with thick chunky tread. Some sort of truck tire. They're heavy, butonce on the ground they roll easily enough and are as silent as round, rubber ninjas. Ethan makes anattempt at rolling two at a time, but they are too unwieldy and offers no way for him to hold hispaintball gun. He quickly abandons the idea and settles on making the extra trips.He moves quickly, giving up on stealth in favor of being done with this business as soon aspossible. Every trip back to the game station is more nerve-wracking than the last, in constant fear thathe'll arrive to find another gamer has found the alcove. After four trips he can't take it anymore, anddecides to quit while he's ahead. Five tires would cover the entryway completely, but with his luck thefifth trip would be the one that goes wrong, and he doesn't want to risk it. He'll make do with four.Ethan backs into the crawlspace, and begins pulling the tires into place in front of him, Stackingthem the best that he can to obscure as much of himself and the game station as possible. He offsetsone tire to the side about an inch, leaving a space between the edge of the alcove wall and the tires thathe can peek through.When the last tire is in place and he's satisfied that it's the most convincing facade he canmanage, he carefully opens and empties his backpack, stacking the contents neatly in the corner.There's no power switch on the monitor, so he unzips the backpack all the way, slipping it over thesmall screen and masking as much of the blue glow as he can. Then he leans back against the wall towait.He's hungry, but too anxious to eat. Too focused on watching the door through his spyhole,listening too intently for any signs of what might be happening in the rooms nearby. An hour and a halfhas passed since the Game Games Bowl started and he hasn't see any sign of the other competitors. Hefigures everyone else must have the same idea, to find a game station and lay low. Still, with less thanthirty minutes to the first game, and only eleven game stations for twelve people, someone out theremust be getting desperate.Almost as if on cue, the pop of a paintball gun echoes through the warehouse, followedimmediately by two more in rapid succession. Then nothing. Ethan sits frozen, listening, trying togauge how far away they were and if they came from the same gun, when an announcement overheadinterrupts his train of thoughts.“First blood! Fire Flower has been defeated! Heart Container awarded five points!” Lucas'voice echoes throughout the warehouse.Ethan presses his face against the small opening between the tires and the wall, straining to seethe game clock high above. The familiar Mario Fire Flower icon goes dark. Five points appear underthe pixelated heart container from a Zelda game; he's not sure which one. Twenty-two minutes to gametime. Suddenly another couple of paintball shots ring out.“Heart Container has been defeated! Yashichi awarded five points!”The shots definitely all came from the same direction, but not from anywhere nearby. Theinevitable fight over a game station, Ethan guesses. The first game hasn't even started yet, and alreadytwo people were out of the tournament. Oh well, that's two less people for me to--A feeling of dread envelopes Ethan like a wet blanket. Ten gamers remaining. Which meansthere should be only nine game stations active. Two game stations will be shutting down. He turns andrips the backpack off of his monitor, staring at the calm blue screen, afraid to breathe. Afraid that at anysecond the screen will go dark, and he'll be forced to hunt down another station with only twentyminutes until game-time. A station that will likely be fiercely guarded by another Gamer.His heart is racing. The passing seconds drag on for an eternity. From somewhere towards thedirection of the shots, a loud mechanical click; the sound of power shutting off.The second click is incredibly close by, close enough that it takes Ethan a moment of staring athis screen to reassure himself that it wasn't his station going dark. To drive the point home, a yell ofequal parts frustration and panic immediately follows. A woman's voice. Not more than a few roomsaway.Ethan allows himself a brief sigh of relief, but it's short-lived. Whoever that was is close, andwill now be on the hunt for a new game station before time runs out. If she heads this way...Shifting around in the small cramped space, Ethan tries to situate himself both comfortably andready to spring into action, but such a position eludes him. He checks his pistol, hoping its ready to firebut unable and unwilling to test it. He waits.It doesn't take long. She isn't making any attempt to be discreet. Ten minutes until the firstround starts, and she needs a game station. Desperation has taken over. Footsteps, heavy breathing.Ethan hears her well before she whirls into the room.The woman's blonde hair is pulled back into a short ponytail. She's wearing the same black andwhite outfit as Ethan, but with a large blue Koopa shell patch emblazoned on the shoulders. She's abouthis age, he guesses, tall but thin. Her eyes are wide with panic, but there's something more there.Determination, bordering on a wild frenzy. She's ready for a fight if she can find one, and she'sdefinitely looking.Ethan's heart leaps into his throat as her eyes lock directly on his hiding spot. Does she see him?Were four tires not enough? The monitor! He curses himself silently. He forgot to cover it back up.He's certain she sees him, but her eyes dart to another corner of the room, apparently findingnothing of interest behind the stack of tires by the stairs. Either the tires are doing their job, or she's intoo much of a rush. The woman spins around, looking back the way she came, debating her options.Her back is turned. Ethan raises his pistol to the small gap in the tires, leveling it at her. Oneshot. She'd never even see it coming. His finger brushes the cold aluminum trigger, but pauses at thelast instant before squeezing it. Something inside is nagging at him, fighting past the impulsive desireto eliminate an opponent. Reason.Taking Blue Shell out of the game means another game station goes dark. This time Ethanmight not be so lucky. With ten minutes until game time, the last thing he wants to do is be in hershoes. He lowers the gun.The woman turns back around, again focusing on Ethan's alcove. No, not the alcove, the stairsabove it. She takes off running again, and after a moment Ethan hears the loud wooden echo of urgentfootsteps scaling the stairs above him, onto the landing and down into the next room over.He remains utterly still until he can no longer hear her movements. He sets the paintball pistolon the ground next to him and leans back against the plywood wall of the alcove, his legs sore fromkneeling on the cold concrete. He turns his attention to the monitor. The first game of the day should bestarting any time now. The blue screen goes black, replaced by a simple message and countdown inwhite text.Mouse and Keyboard.2:00As the two minutes begin to tick away, Ethan quickly moves the one offset tire flush to the wall,closing his little window to the outside world. Blue Shell gamer will still be out there wanderingaround, and he doesn't want to take the chance that she doubles back and catches him off guard whilehe's in the middle of the game. The timer on the monitor expires, and after a brief moment, the firstgame of the Game Games Bowl begins to load. Ethan recognizes it immediately.Quake 3.While the game accesses the server, Ethan tries to recall everything he remembers about Quake3; the maps, locations of weapons, but his attention is instantly hijacked by a larger issue at hand.Sound. The game's sound is playing through the monitor's speakers. It's not blaring, but anything louderthan perfect silence at this point is too loud as far as Ethan is concerned.The map loads in. He tries to access the options menu, but finds it disabled. Gods dammit,Lucas. The sound can't be turned off. Everyone at a game station is suddenly broadcasting theirlocation to anyone nearby hunting them. He prays that Blue Shell is far, far away from him by now.Unable to do anything about the noise, he tries to turn his focus to the game at hand. The feelingof vulnerability and desire to constantly look over his shoulder is hard to shake, and it costs him ingame. He dies three times before he gets a kill of his own. Slowly though, he enters the zone, allows histwitch reflexes to take over, and gets himself on the board with some kills.It's a thirty-minute marathon of virtual bloodshed, but time disappears behind the trigger of arail-gun. Fortunes and scores ebb and flow as the nine competing gamers vie for kills. Ethan makes aslow climb from last place up to first place for the briefest of moments. He's overtaken in the last tenminutes of the match, knocked into the third place as the game draws to a close. The scoreboard lingerson screen for a few seconds, and then disappears, giving way to the familiar blank, blue, glow. Hehangs the backpack over the monitor, and the blue screen disappears as well.For the first time since the games began, Ethan lets himself relax. He slumps down into thecorner of his alcove, and takes a deep breath. The last three hours have been exhausting, but he hasn'tallowed himself to really feel it until now. He grabs a bottle of water, and one of the granola bars,settling in for a quick lunch. Or dinner. It occurs to him he doesn't actually know what time it is, orwhen he last ate. The cupcake, I guess. How long ago was that?His hunger is undeniable though, so it must have been quite a while. The granola bar isdelicious. Chewy peanut butter with nuts and raisins. It takes the edge off, but he's still hungry. Hespends a few minutes debating a second helping, before finally and reluctantly deciding he needs toration them over the course of the tournament. He's washing the granola bar down with water when hehears the speakers overhead crackle to life.“First game is complete. Scores have been posted. Good luck going into the next round,Gamers! Play it like you mean it!” Lucas booms. Ethan thinks he detects a hint of sadistic pleasure inhis voice, but perhaps he's just imagining it.He shuffles his tire barrier a bit to get a look at the scoreboard. Every symbol now has a numberbeneath it. The scoring has begun. Seven points under the Energy Pellet. Seven points for coming inthird. He looks over the other scores. Green Mushroom is in first with nine points. Blue Shell has zero.Guess she didn't find another game station in time.He pulls the tires back into place and sits down to plot out his strategy. The safe bet would be tostay put for the next couple of hours, and see how things play out. If anyone is going to be out hunting,they'll be doing it now, well before the next game starts. Blue Shell is definitely out looking for a gamestation and, currently in last place, she's got nothing to lose. That makes her the most dangerousopponent right now.Ethan finishes off the water and sticks the empty bottle in an opposite corner. As much as hehates the idea of camping, there's too much on the line to take unnecessary risks. He decides to stayput.TwoApparently everyone else settles on the same strategy. The next hour and a half passes withoutincident. No noises, no more announcements. Ethan curls up inside the alcove, gun in hand, but isunable to get any rest. With no immediate threats, his attention turns to the incredible arena that Lucasand the volunteers managed to put together in only a few weeks. Its construction is inelegant, butfunctionally elaborate, and far beyond anything Ethan had pictured when he first envisioned thetournament; a competition that completely tested the resourcefulness and dedication of a gamer underpressure.He begins to ponder the size of the game field, which eventually leads to an internal debateabout the pros and cons of taking to higher ground. Obviously it puts him in a vulnerable situation, notonly for leaving his hiding spot, but climbing above in plain sight without any cover is an enormousrisk. Even if he doesn't get shot right off the bat from nine different angles, it might give away hislocation. However without any concept of the lay of the land, he may later find himself wanderingblind, an equally dangerous situation.He's just resolved to venture out after the next game, to explore the immediate area and maybeget an idea of the scope of the arena, when the distant pop of a paintball gun shatters the silence. Ethansits up and leans to the small opening by the tires. Another pop.He waits for an elimination announcement, but none comes. Another couple of shots ring out,followed by some yelling that's too far away for Ethan to make out. The next twenty minutes seesanother half dozen paintballs exchanged, all of which apparently fail to find their mark. Ethan wondersif Blue Shell is part of the back and forth. If she isn't, she will be soon with all that noise.Despite the activity, the clock ticks down with no further eliminations. There are still nine gamestations in play when the blue screen fades and the final countdown appears.Xbox Controller.2:00This time, when the screen comes to life with the familiar starting tone of the Xbox 360 loadingscreen, Ethan tells himself that any wandering competition is far out of earshot, over where the flyingpaintballs were. After a moment he's staring at the title screen for Street Fighter 4.“Fuck.” He doesn't even attempt to restrain himself. He looks down at the controller in hishands. With the default Xbox d-pad? That is a special brand of evil, Lucas.The game launches right into character select. Ethan chooses Guile. His opponent, whoever itis, takes Cammy. If a fight follows, Ethan blinks and misses it. One second the match is about to start,the next Guile is lying defeated on the ground, and somewhere in between there was a blur of lengthycombos and special attacks. He loses both rounds so quickly he has to wait five minutes before he'smatched with his next opponent.He fares better in his second match, squeaking out a win in the third round. Over the next hourhe faces the remaining seven gamers one on one, ending just on the other side of a positive win-lossratio at five to four. Not terrible, but not the sort of display that will bring him to the head of the pack.As he sits back to wait for the scores, his lone hope is that Green Mushroom didn't also ace thistournament. If he did, he'll be incredibly difficult to catch.When the scores go up, Ethan is surprised to see Blue Shell with six points. I guess she wasinvolved with that shootout after all. He studies the rest of the scores. Red Mushroom is still at threepoints from the last round. Driven away from their game station by a certain fierce blonde.He's disappointed to see that he's only advanced three points as a result of the last game, andeven more disheartened to see that he's now tied for fifth place with Invincibility Star. GreenMushroom has held onto first place, but only barely.Deciding not to waste time dwelling on it, he starts to pack up his remaining food and water.First place doesn't mean much when a well-placed splatter of paint can take you out of the runningentirely. This early, survival is most important, and learning his surroundings is an important element ofsurviving.Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he still hesitates before pushing the tires out of theway. He tries to convince himself he's just being cautious, listening for any opponents nearby, but heknows the truth beneath that lie. He's scared. Scared of being eliminated, scared of watching the crownpass to someone else. He's been over it a hundred times in his head... knows this is the best path forWinter-een-mas. To give the holiday a chance to grow under new leadership, should a better optionpresent itself. Still, he can't shake the last grasping tendrils of selfishness. He doesn't want to lose thecrown, but now, finally here in the tournament, it's a very real possibility he has to face.He shakes the thoughts from his mind, knowing they only lead to endless second guessing. It'stoo late now, anyway. All that's left is to focus, play smart and trust that the Gods will see him through.He pushes the tires out of the way.Standing up after being crouched in that alcove for nearly five hours introduces pain to areas ofhis body his nervous system had forgotten about. He stands for a moment, trying to stretch through thecramping and aching, letting his eyes adjust to the brighter light, and then he pushes the tire wall backinto place. He fidgets with it for a few minutes until he's satisfied that it hides the game station the bestit can. He contemplates leaving the backpack covering the monitor for further camouflage, but thatwould also mean leaving his supplies. He decides to be content with the tires.He doesn't want to go up and over the wall where Blue Shell headed, so he decides to seek outher defunct game station. From there he figures he'll be able to scout a different path, and maybe locatean active station.He stays low, and sticks to the walls. Most of the scenery is the same, arranged in differentorientations. Rope netting; solid wooden boxes; milk crates stacked to create see-through walls; laddersand partitions made out of equal parts plywood and two-by-fours.He's made it three rooms before the entire bottle of water he drank comes back to haunt him,and a new dilemma surfaces. Surely Lucas would have thought of this... what does he expect us to do?Ethan questions as he glances around. He opens his backpack, rummaging around inside, and curseswhen his suspicions are confirmed. The empty water bottle is still back in the alcove. He looks up at asmall cameras perched high above, watching his every movement, and frowns. So much for pissing ina corner.He forces all thoughts of running water and babbling brooks into the far corners of his mind.He's pretty sure he's read somewhere that you can hold your bladder at least eight hours before youhave to worry about your insides exploding. He treks onward.Blue Shell's abandoned game station isn't hard to find at all. It sits in the center of the room,surrounded on all four sides by a nine-foot tall booth of plexiglass. It's narrow; you wouldn't be able tosit down inside. One side is hinged like a door, and slightly ajar. On the wall opposite the opening, themonitor hangs at eye-level showing a black screen with a giant red X on it. On each of the four sides, atwaist height, is a tiny hole. Ethan stares at the plexiglass booth, confused. The top is open to air, so theycan't be air holes...He scratches the side of his head with the barrel of his pistol, puzzling it over, and then it hitshim. The holes are just large enough to stick the barrel of a pistol out of. Or into, actually. The gamestation is protected on all four sides if you were to lock the door, but you're completely visible inside. Ifsomeone were to get right up next to the booth without getting shot, they could shoot directly insidethrough the holes... there would be no way to dodge it.I'd hate to have ended up stuck with this game station, he thinks, pleased that it's no longer aconcern.Continuing on past the game station, he finds what may have been Blue Shell's starting area.The small wooden closet and empty vertical stand are nearly identical to the ones where he started.However in this room, there's only the one doorway, and from the top of the opposite wall hangs athick, knotted rope. Up and over, I guess.Standing in front of the climbing rope, he realizes he'll need both hands to scale the wall. Hegrumbles as he pulls the backpack off his shoulder, not thrilled about the idea of being so defenseless atthe top of the wall. But with nowhere else to stash the weapon, he sees little other choice. With his gunstowed he slips the bag back on, cinches it tight, and grabs the rope.Despite the generous knots along the length of the rope, the ascent is one long stream ofexasperated expletives and wild flailing. He reaches up attempting to grasp the top of the roughplywood wall, while secretly telling himself the struggle is due to the extra weight of the backpack, andnot his complete lack of upper body strength. As he clings to the top of the wall for dear life, he's lessconcerned with what lies on the other side than he is with trying to swing his leg up and over.After his less than ninja-like acrobatics, once on the other side Ethan at least has the presence ofmind to promptly make a bee-line for the nearest structure that provides cover. Just to his right is abunker of sandbags stacked closely against the wall. He plops down behind it and focuses on catchinghis breath. He glances up at the rope and at the thought of scaling it again to get back to his gamestation he considers that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he just skipped the next game. He also realizesthat he forgot to stop and look around while he was up there, and reminds himself to do it when heheads back this way.When he's satisfied that no one was alerted by his scaling of the wall (and when his breathingno longer resembles that of a dog left in a hot car), he retrieves the pistol from his pack and stands up tosurvey the room. Opposite the climbing rope, across the twenty-foot room, is a small two-story fort.Open on the sides with solid walls blocking the front, and tiny little windows to shoot from, it would bea fantastic place to hole up and catch people passing through. Nobody seems to be doing that now,though, or he'd have been covered in paint head-to-toe the instant he topped the wall.Along the right wall are two doors, the only other exits. With one as good as the other, hedecides to just take the closest one. He looks up, searching for the giant clock overhead. An hour andfifteen minutes. Just a little further and then I'll head back.The doorway leads to a long hallway. Ethan stalks its length slowly, watching the other enddown the iron-sights of his pistol as he approaches. Something about the room ahead doesn't seem quiteright, and he struggles to figure it out. When he glances back over his shoulder and catches sight of thesandbag bunker he hid behind, it hits him.While all the other rooms so far have been littered with random debris and obstacles to providean interesting battlefield, the one ahead is, so far, entirely empty of such features. No bunkers, nobarricades, no partitions in sight.At the end of the hallway, he nervously peers around the corner, and finds the rest of the roomequally barren. All except for a port-a-potty situated in the leftmost corner. At the sight of the universal“Men/Women” icons, his bladder screams out for attention, threatening lasting bodily injury andembarrassing stains if it isn't heeded.With absolutely nothing to hide behind in this room, there's no question that he is alone. Still, hesticks to the wall as he approaches the latrine. He keeps his gun pointed at the one other doorway in theroom, directly next to the port-a-potty. He glances over his shoulder periodically, to make sure no oneis following him.The door on the john reads 'unoccupied', but nevertheless the barrel of his handgun leads thecharge as he opens the door. Upon seeing it empty he jumps inside being careful not to slam the doorwhen he quickly pulls it closed behind him. He pauses, debating whether it would be safer to lock thedoor, or leave it displayed as unoccupied. He settles on locking it. Better to announce his presence to apasserby than take a surprise paintball to the back while peeing.He rests his gun on the toilet paper holder, and unfastens the drawstring on his track pants. Hebegins to relieve himself, but the accompanying sigh is interrupted by a tinny voice overhead. He's sostartled he jumps back, nearly tipping the entire port-a-potty over.“Greetings gamer. Our sensors have detected urination.” It's not Lucas. Ethan doesn't recognizethe voice. “The timer has begun. You now have sixty-seconds to answer this trivia or the paint bombabove you will detonate.”Ethan nearly gets whiplash, he snaps his head back so fast. Sure enough, next to a speaker andwhat looks like a microphone, is a large paint grenade affixed to the ceiling above him. Before he caneven begin to formulate a panicked thought, the voice continues.“In which game are you tasked with collecting the five pieces of Dracula, what are the fivepieces, and which of the five pieces acts as a shield. Fifty seconds remaining.”So this is what a deer caught in headlights experience. Between the questions, peeing, and theimpending paint-filled explosion above him, Ethan can't decide what to freak out about first.“Forty seconds.” The voice chimes in. That's not helping at all.“Castlevania two! Simon's Quest!” Ethan blurts out. He remembers that much, at least.“Correct. Continue.”“Uhh...” His mind races. Memories of the classic Nintendo game are interspersed with warringconcerns about peeing all over the toilet seat. “His rib! His rib was the shield!”“Also correct. Please name the remaining four parts of Dracula. Thirty seconds remaining.”Keeping one hand on his business, Ethan reaches behind him and fumbles with the lock. Itwon't budge.“Twenty-five seconds.”“Okay, okay! Just shut up!” Ethan snaps as he frantically looks around the small water closet,hoping to suddenly find a giant window he can crawl out of. “Umm, his heart! His...” Pixels fly aroundhis mind, begging for meaning, begging for names. He can see them, the simple 8-bit icons, but whatwere they again?! “His.... eye! And his ring! And... and...”“Fifteen seconds.” Is the only help the disembodied voice volunteers.The answer is there, on the verge of consciousness, but it won't cross the threshold. In hismind's eye Ethan can see the icon, a blue... blob. A tear? Dracula's teardrop? No, that 's not it. Imagesof breaking blocks with Simon's whip play out on the Nintendo emulator in his brain.“Ten seconds.”Heart. Rib. Eye. Ring. And a fifth item. The fifth item required to resurrect Dracula and removethe curse. The fifth item. So close to the tip of his tongue and yet so desperately elusive.“Five.”Sharp! It was sharp! His tooth?! “It was his...” Ethan blurts out.“Four.” The voice says, unsympathetically.Not his tooth... but sharp... sharp like...“Three”“His nail! Dracula's fingernail!” The answer clicks as soon as he says it. That's right. That has tobe right. Right?Silence.“That is correct. Congratulations.” The speaker finally announces. A click from behind signalsthat the door has unlocked.Ethan reaches out to brace himself against the side wall of the port-a-potty. He's trembling, butotherwise stands quietly in stunned disbelief. After a moment, his heart begins to pound less urgently,and the reality of the last couple of minutes begins to sink in. He looks down, and is amazed to find hedidn't spill a drop.ThreeStumbling out of the urinal-turned-torture-device, Ethan is halfway back across the room beforehis wits have recovered enough to realize he left his pistol sitting on the toilet paper holder. He runsback to grab it, reaching in from the threshold, afraid to even step foot inside the port-a-potty again.The clock overhead tells him that the time for exploring is over, and his rattled nerveswholeheartedly agree. After the bathroom, climbing the rope again sounds immensely appealing bycomparison. He stashes his gun in his backpack again, tightens the straps, and does a few quick aerobicstretches as if to try and coax his muscles into getting excited for the climb ahead.The ascent does actually seem easier this time, though it may just be that his expectations arenow so much lower. He reaches the top and swings a leg over, straddled across the wall half on oneside and half on the other, when he hears a loud crack. He freezes, thinking that the wooden structure iscollapsing, but the second crack is preceded ever so slightly by a pop. The paintball explodes againstthe wall mere inches from his head, leaving behind a bright green flower, already beginning to drip.In the room he just left, leaning out from the top floor of the fort that Ethan had admired earlieras a fantastic place to ambush people, is a young man with sandy brown hair. His triangular face isaccented by a sharp nose, and cold blue eyes narrowed in determination. The gun in his hands ispointed at Ethan, and he's trying to line up his next shot to compensate for the slight arc of the paintballthat caused his first two shots to miss. His shoulder patch bears a green 1-up mushroom.Ethan's first instinct is to reach for his own gun, but that hopeful train of thought runs headlonginto a brick wall as he remembers that his gun is safely tucked out of reach in his backpack. Faced withno option to retaliate, he opts for the next best thing. Running.There's no time for a graceful descent, so he shoves himself off the wall away from his attackerwith all of his strength, just as the third paintball leaves the barrel. Feeling no sting following the popof compressed air, he has a split second to congratulate himself on dodging the shot before he slamsinto the concrete ground eight feet below.His right shoulder takes the brunt of the impact, and he'd scream out in pain if theunceremonious fall hadn't also blasted the air out of his lungs. He rolls onto his back, ignoring his ownpaintball gun jabbing into his kidneys, and grabs at his shoulder. A brief wave of nausea washes overhim, but is fought head-on by the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the screams of urgencyechoing through his mind.He fights through the disorientation, and the pain. He fights to breathe, to see past the starsclouding his vision. He needs to get up, he needs to run, but he may as well try creating a giraffe out ofthin air for as possible as those things seem right now. He settles on a smaller feat; getting his backpackoff.Ethan can hear Green Mushroom running towards the wall on the other side. Or is that thesound of his own pulse pounding in his ears? He fumbles with the zipper on the bag, fishes aroundinside, his hand finding a water bottle, the first-aid kit, finally the gun. Tearing it free of its blue andgray nylon prison, he levels it towards the top of the wall where the rope hangs.A crop of flaxen hair just begins to clear the top of the wall. Ethan squeezes the trigger. At thesound of the pop Green Mushroom drops out of sight, either ducking down or dropping off the ropealtogether. The paintball clips the very edge of the plywood wall, severing it in half. A spray of bluemist disappears into the air over the next room.The crack of compressed air from the gun, so close, also serves to snap Ethan out of his haze.His shoulder throbs but the adrenaline is in full effect now. He scrambles to his feet, scooping up hisbackpack in one hand and runs full tilt to the door on the other side of the room. As he reaches theopening, he glances back over his shoulder in time to see an arm reaching over the wall, blind-firing inhis direction. Ethan ducks into the next room just as two paintballs leave their brightly colored markson the wall behind him.He doesn't stop running. Past the clear, plexiglass game station booth, past barricades andbunkers that could be hiding any of the other gamers waiting to strike. He doesn't care. He wants to putas much space between Green Mushroom and himself as possible. He wants to get back to the safety ofhis alcove.He reaches the familiar room with the stairs at full sprint, so he only has the briefest of secondsto notice that the tires have moved, but by then it's too late to change course or pull back. Instead heruns straight towards the alcove, as the barrel of a gun pokes out from beside the tires. Whoever it istries to line up a shot, but Ethan is moving too fast. He veers past the alcove, and nearly collides withthe wall as he attempts to change directions. He scurries up the wooden stairs and onto the platform.The hollow wooden sound of his footsteps on the stairs reminds him that this is the direction Blue Shellhad run, but he can't worry about that now.At the top of the platform he hears another pop from a distance, and he has no idea if the shotwas even aimed at him. It doesn't matter. He descends the stairs two at a time, anxious to get below thecover of the walls. He breaks for the only door, catching the contents of the rest of the room out of thecorner of his eye; what looks like sheets of rope netting hang from wooden rafters, and at the far end ofthe room some sort of box against the wall. Something about the box piques his interest, but there's notime to investigate it now.He skids to a stop in the next room, almost pitching headlong into the wall-to-wall pool ofbright orange paint that cuts the room in half. A cardboard sign with hand-written lettering on the wallreads “Lava”, with an arrow pointing down to the paint. Someone drew a smiley face after the word.Straddled across the pool of thick paint are three evenly spaced lengths of four-by-four. Ethan reachesdown to try and slide them together to form a thicker bridge, but finds them nailed into place. Ofcourse.Unwilling to backtrack towards Green Mushroom and whoever stole his alcove, Ethan presseson. He steps up onto the plank, wobbling a bit as he finds his balance. One foot in front of the other,Ethan. He steps forward, arms extended like he's pretending to be an airplane. Three steps out and he'shovering over the sea of thick orange goop, with no chance to turn around. For some reason he'ssuddenly reminded of the Wii Fit telling him how terrible his balance is, and he freezes. The other sidemay as well be a million miles away.He closes his eyes, trying to feel his center of balance, trying to block out his surroundings. Hetakes a deep breath, sure that a moment of quiet concentration will give him the focus he needs. Twopaintball shots ring out and his eye pop open. Without even thinking he bursts into a full on run acrossthe plank, crossing the distance in three well-placed strides. He's on the other side when Lucas'announcement chimes in overhead.“Green Mushroom eliminated! Invincibility Star awarded five points!”The 1up mushroom icon on the scoreboard overhead goes dark. With the kill bonus,Invincibility Star has just taken first place. Ethan glances back across the “lava” pool. No one ischasing him. Green Mushroom is out of the competition. Had that been Invincibility Star who hadfound Ethan's alcove? Was Green Mushroom so focused on chasing Ethan that he ran right into Star'scross-hairs?Ethan lets slip a little chuckle and shakes his head at the irony. The amusement is fleetingthough, as the reality of his situation creeps back in. He's lost his game station, the throbbing in hisshoulder is beginning to make itself known and there's only – he glances up at the clock - fortyminutes until the next game. He listens for the click of a station turning off forever, but if it happens, hedoesn't hear it over the sound of his own heavy breathing. It must have been on the other side of thearena. It definitely wasn't the alcove station, which would have meant that whoever was camped outunderneath would suddenly be on the move, and very near to Ethan. He thanks the gods for smallfavors.He's having trouble thinking clearly, due to the pain in his shoulder and beginning to crash fromthe adrenaline high, so he decides he needs to find a place to rest. Not about to tempt fate crossing thelava paint again, he moves forward on to the next room. On to where Blue Shell went.The ache in his right shoulder is severe enough that he can't raise his arm up past his sternum,so he takes the pistol in his left hand. He won't be able to reliably hit the broad side of a barn with hisleft, but at least he won't be shooting at the floor.The next room has exactly what he's looking for. Though it has four exits, one on each wall, atthe corners of the room are bunkers placed diagonally. They're tall enough to conceal anyone sittingbehind them, and he can be certain no one is sneaking up from behind. He stands at the passageway for a few minutes, peering into the room to make sure nobody isalready camped out behind any of the four bunkers. Unsatisfied, he carefully reaches into his backpackand grabs one of the remaining granola bars. He hesitates, realizing he may lose it if this goes wrong,but decides it's better to lose a snack than his spot in the tournament. He throws the granola bar at thenearest bunker, and quickly raises his pistol, sweeping it from side to side watching for anyone to popup and investigate.No one does. He quickly runs over to the bunker he pelted with munchies, winces as he scoopsup the granola bar with his right arm, and clumsily vaults over the barricade, plopping down into aseated position behind it. He sits there in silence for a while, listening for footsteps. When none come,he fishes through the bag and pulls out a bottle of water. He's unbelievably thirsty, and it's a struggle toforce himself to stop after only a few sips. Going to have to stop running around like this or the waterwon't last the day, he scolds himself. Flashbacks of the port-a-potty chime in with their agreement withthe “Drink Less” initiative.The worst of his thirst sated, he pulls out the first-aid kit and rifles through its contents. Bandaids, tape, tweezers, aspirin. At the bottom he finds what he was hoping to. Pulling out the cold pack,he squeezes to break the center, dispersing the liquid within. Cold instantly spreads through the pack,and Ethan slips it inside his jersey to press against his shoulder, just underneath the large blue EnergyTank patch. It's uncomfortably cold in an already chilly warehouse, but it does help to dull the achingpain throbbing up and down his arm. He doesn't think anything is broken, but a nasty bruise is acertainty.With his back to the corner here, the large overhead scoreboard isn't visible from this position,but he knows he's running out of time until the next games. There are nine gamers left, which meansonly eight stations active. He tries to sort of who might be roaming around. Red Mushroom almost forsure. They were displaced before the Street Fighter match judging by the score. Whoever was at thestation shut down after Green Mushroom was eliminated will now also be out hunting. And of course,Ethan. He curses himself again for leaving the alcove.Green Mushroom definitely had a station for the previous game, which he'd left to go exploringas well. Considering how that turned out, Ethan decides things could be worse. That game station maystill be open, but based on where he first ran into the young gamer over by the bathroom, it's probablyfurther in the opposite direction. He can't risk passing by the alcove again.As he sits there, fatigue begins to overtake him, and the broad, insistent ache in his shoulderushers in a disappointing realization. He's in no shape to participate in the next game. He fights it,trying to will himself to stand up and march back to his alcove. To reclaim it by force against all odds.But reason won't back down, and he doesn't budge. As loathe as he is to lose out on the points of thenext round, a setback he may not be able to recover from, he's certain there's no way to recover from apaintball between the eyes. Rushing out there at half capacity will only get him eliminated.He takes another sip of water, and stuffs everything but the pistol back into his bag. He wants tobe packed and ready in case he needs to move in a hurry. He props the backpack up in the corner wherethe two sheets of plywood meet, and then settles in against it. The pistol lies on his chest, his left handresting lightly on top of it. The sleeve of the jumpsuit holds the icepack loosely against his shoulder.Slight hunger pangs tug at his abdomen. I'll eat when I find another game station, he promises himself.He attempts to stare directly in front, to stay on watch for anyone approaching too close to hisbunker, but his eyes inevitably wander up towards the dark ceiling of the warehouse. Crisscrossed withvents and pipes and ducts, the industrial pattern high above past the bright floodlights illuminating thearena is calming. Soothing. Almost like counting sheep.Four“Third game is complete!” The speakers above boom to life. “Scores have been posted.”Ethan startles awake with a gasp that quickly turns into a yelp as he wrenches his shoulder. Thepistol clatters to the floor. He looks around panicked and disoriented. Shit! I fell asleep! He gathers upthe gun and grabs his backpack, scrambling to get his feet underneath him. He freezes, listening, coiledtensely like a squirrel poised to bound away at the first sound of a predator. He thanks the gods thatnobody happened across him while he was sleeping, doubly-so because Lilah often accuses him ofsnoring.The warm ice pack hangs caught up inside the sleeve of his shirt, all of its dulcifying chillhaving dissipated. He shakes it loose and slides it into the corner. His shoulder still hurts, but the urgentpain is gone, leaving in its place a general soreness. It will be a little tender, but he should be able touse it in a pinch.After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he runs his fingers through his hair and tries to focus onhis next task. He has to find a game station before the next competition. Falling further behind in thescores would mean he'd be relying entirely on his skills as an assassin to win this event. Not a situationhe'd place money on. He pokes his head above the barricade's edge, checking for opponents and findingnone.He crosses the room to one of the bunkers on the other end, looking to get vision on thescoreboard, trying to reconcile any changes that took place while he slept. His score, obviously, hasn'tchanged, but he's surprised to see that neither has Red Mushroom's, who still sits at three. Guess theydidn't find Green Mushroom's game station.Invincibility Star held on to first place, with everyone else hot on their heels. They all pulledahead, bumping Ethan down to sixth place. He lets out a sigh. It was expected, but still disheartening.You can get back in this, he reassures himself. You just can't miss another game.He heads out with renewed purpose, determined to find and take a game station before the clockcounts down again. He's anxious, but with just over two hours on the game clock, he forces himself totake it slow. Plenty of time, no reason to get sloppy. He approaches each new room methodically,watching closely from the doorway, inspecting every detail of the room before cautiously steppinginside. Always staying within arms reach of cover. Always alert. He makes it a point to regularly checkbehind him as well, to be sure no one gets the drop on him.In one room on the floor, peeking behind a barrier, he sees a small lump of red and gray trailingblack nylon straps. A backpack. He watches the bag for a while, but there's no movement nearby.Slipping off his sneakers, the cold concrete saps the warmth from his feet as he pads across the floor inhis socks, gun poised. When he's near enough, he runs the last few feet, pistol leading the charge, readyto fire. But the backpack is alone behind the bunker.Empty, as well. Ethan checks it for supplies, but finds only granola bar wrappers and emptybottles. The paintball gun and first-aid kit are missing.An hour remains on the clock when Ethan comes across another “lava” room. The pool ofbright fiery paint covers the left half of the long rectangular room. Rather than blocking off an exit thistime, instead it sits beneath a giant wooden cube rising four feet out of the paint on stilts. A series ofsmaller wooden blocks are scattered around it, poking just above the surface of the viscous liquid. Theylook like stepping stones, allowing tenuous access to the cube, but why anyone would want to reach it,he can't figure out.On the left side of the room he sees nothing but wooden crates of various sizes, stacked in a pilethat almost reaches the top of the wall. The same crates that appear in nearly every room. These onesare piled high enough that you might be able to use them to climb over the wall. The only other door isdirectly across from where Ethan stands.He turns his attention back to the cube. Something doesn't seem right. There's no ladder or ropeto climb onto the cube even if you got out there. And if you did manage to get on top of it... wherewould you go? Ethan shakes his head. He's wasting valuable time staring at this cube, he knows heshould just keep moving. But he can't shake the nagging feeling that there's something here. He looksover every inch of the cube that he can see from the doorway. Every seam, every surface. Nothinglooks out of place. It's just a wooden box.He's about to give up and step into the room when something else about the cube catches hiseye. No, not the cube... the paint underneath the cube. The glossy wet surface is sparkling with thereflections of the huge lights high overhead. The color of the paint directly underneath the cube is off,somehow. Just slightly tinted... purple.Ethan drops to his belly, to get another look. Sure enough, the underside of the cube is open.And spilling out from inside a faint blue glow. A game station.He thanks the gods as he gets up and brushes himself off, examining the situation with this newinformation. The blocks leading to the cube are small, and spaced pretty far apart... it won't be any easytask to reach the cube in the first place. Anyone inside the cube would have plenty of time to take shotsat a would-be intruder working their way across the lava.There are no windows or murder holes in the cube that Ethan can see, at least from this angle.That at least meant that if he were quiet, whoever is camped inside that cube might not know he wasthere until he was right underneath them. Maybe it would be possible to get the drop on them after all.He slides his backpack off his shoulder slowly, not wanting to take the risk that the contents willshift and give away his position. He sets it gently by the door, and grabs the paintball gun with bothhands. He decides to get a better look at the cube before moving in, so he starts to circle around into theright side of the room, He moves cautiously, completely picking up each foot and softly placing it backdown, so as not to risk scuffing along the rough concrete floor. He nears the crates, never taking hiseyes from the suspended cube.Somebody sniffles. Ethan freezes in his tracks. He stands there, in the middle of the room, his breath caught in his chest. His eyes are stilllocked on the cube as his brain processes the sound he just heard. It was quiet, but crystal clear. Hewouldn't have heard it had it come from the cube. Slowly, afraid of what he might find, he cranes hisneck around to look over his shoulder. No one in sight.Swiveling back around, he looks in the opposite direction, to the stacks of crates he haddismissed as a point of interest earlier. He silently mouths a few choice curse words, annoyed at hiscarelessness. He studies the crates. Now knowing what he's looking for, he sees it. Between two stacksof crates out front... a small gap, maybe six inches wide. And there, down by the floor and just barelyvisible from this angle, the round anodized metallic muzzle of a paintball pistol trained right on the lavapool.Ethan finally lets out a slow controlled breath, muffling it with his sleeve. He looks over thecrates again. What at first looked like a random stacking of boxes against the wall, he now recognizesas a meticulously constructed fort. And inside, a fellow gamer lying in wait to ambush anyone trying tosneak up on the lava game station. An ambush Ethan nearly walked right into.The gun is so low to the ground, Ethan has to assume the gamer inside is lying on his stomachwith their arms out in front of them. A sniper's position, easy to maintain for long periods of time. Hetakes three generous steps towards the fort, making sure to stay out of the assassin's narrow field ofvision. At the corner of the fort he crouches down to listen, but no further sounds come from inside.The sole ill-timed onset of nasal irritation is the only mistake this Gamer makes.Ethan considers his options. There are no noticeable gaps in the fort, save for the one right infront. The crates are stacked right up to the wall, so there's no sneaking around behind it. He knows hecan't move any of the crates without making noise, and once the predator inside is alerted to hispresence this will become far more difficult.The only way in is through the front, it seems. He gives the crates one more brief inspection.Based on their size, and the fact that this assassin was able to pull them into place, they shouldn't be tooheavy. He stands, lining himself up with the side of one of the two stacked columns in front, and prayshis assumptions are correct. He'll only get one shot at this.Before he can begin second-guessing himself, Ethan takes a step back with his right foot, andthen snaps it forward into a kick aimed right at the bottom box in the stack. It's filled with sand or someother weighty material, but it moves, sliding forward a couple of inches.A surprised yell escapes the fort, and a single shot fires off towards the lava pool as theassassin's gun hand is pinched between the two columns of crates, at least momentarily. Ethan seizesthe opportunity, leaping forward in front of the crates and jamming his own pistol into the narrowopening, squeezing the trigger three times. More screams as at least two of the paint balls find theirmark.He jumps back, ducking around the side of the crates again and waits. A resigned sigh fromwithin precedes the rough scraping of wood on concrete, as the gamer inside emerges from his fort.He's young, heavy-set with a head full of thick ink-black hair that looks like it's never seen the businessend of a comb. Bushy dark eyebrows top a plain, broad face that wears an expression equal partsfrustration and exhaustion. Fragments of paintball casing fall away from two bright blue splotches onhis jersey, directly above the patch of a pink Pac-Man ghost.The dark-haired gamer looks around, his eyes finally meeting Ethan's. He furrows his brow,squinting slightly, as if trying to work out how this slim, awkward stranger got the drop on him. Thensomething else flashes across his face... recognition? A smile reveals a mouthful of white, slightlycrooked teeth. He takes a couple steps towards Ethan, who tenses and grips his pistol tighter. Pac-ManGhost thrusts his hand out in front of him.Ethan eyes it suspiciously for a moment, then grabs it tentatively in his own. They shake.“Good luck. Play it like you mean it.” Pac-Man Ghost says, his smile growing wider.Ethan nods in return.A commotion pulls their attention towards the wall to their left, and at the top they see a coupleof young men in blue “Volunteer” jerseys lowering a ladder down into the room. They point towardsPac-Man Ghost. The lumbering, raven-mopped gamer shoots a curious look back at his fort, then toEthan with a knowing smile, and turns to climb the ladder. In moments they're gone, and Ethan is alonein the room.Even though he knows it's coming, the loudspeakers overhead still make him jump a little bit.“Pac-Man Ghost eliminated! Energy Tank awarded five points!” Lucas announces, followed abruptlyby the crackle of the microphone cutting out.The pink Pac-Man ghost on the scoreboard blinks out, and the extra points have brought Ethaninto fourth place, behind Star, Super Leaf and Metroid. The clock above reminds him that if he wants tostay there, he'd better get a move on.He runs over and grabs his backpack, and as he's slipping it over his shoulder, he realizes thatPac-Man Ghost wasn't wearing one as he climbed the ladder to leave. Ethan spins around to the fort,and remembers the short glance the big gamer had tossed its way.The pink backpack is inside, and pulling it open reveals granola bar wrappers and empty waterbottles. Disappointed, Ethan tosses it aside, turning to leave the cramped fort, but hesitates when thebag makes a solid “thud” on the concrete floor. He upturns the backpack, and amidst a shower of trashan unopened water bottle and granola bar fall out.He decides to treat them as bonus supplies, and thus not subject to the strict rationing rules he'dbeen trying to adhere to. Sitting against the wall of the fort, he wolfs down the granola bar, and drainsthree quarters of the water bottle in four large gulps. He knows he'll have to deal with the consequencesof that later, but he's too thirsty to care anymore.He polishes off the rest of the water, and puts the empty bottle in his own pack. Perhaps it cansave him another trip to the torture-toilet. He leaves the trash on the floor, but rolls up the other emptypink backpack and stuffs it into his bag as well. Just in case.Feeling renewed and refreshed by the small snack, and still riding the high of his first directelimination, it's time to tackle the lava pool. The stepping blocks are placed further apart than they'dseemed from the other side of the room, and the trip is slow-going. He repeatedly glances back behindhim, terrified of getting caught by another gamer while stranded in the middle of the giant paint pool.After ten minutes of careful balancing and one near disastrous stumble, he finally reaches thelast block just at the edge of the cube. Leaning forward, he ducks underneath and immediatelyunderstands why Pac-Man Ghost had elected to spend his time in between games in the fort across theroom. Aside from being strategically clever, it was also a far more comfortable place to be.The open interior of the cube is roughly six feet along both dimensions. He can see the monitorand keyboard shelf mounted to one wall. And about a foot below that, a single steel pipe runningparallel through the center of the cube serves as the only seat. Once he got up there he'd need to balanceon the metal rod while gaming, or risk toppling into the red paint below.Fantastic, he thinks, as the last bit of his enthusiasm over winning this game station fades.Nothing to be done about it now. The clock is relentlessly marching towards the next game round, andhe can't afford to sit another one out.He puts his gun into his bag. Standing on his tip toes, he reaches up and grabs onto the metalpipe. Instinctively he gives it a little tug to make sure it will support his weight. Of course it will, ifPac-Man Ghost sat up here with no problems, but it makes him feel better anyway. He grips it tightlywith both hands, and pulls himself up.He struggles a bit, dangling over nothing but simulated lava, but manages to get his chin abovethe bar. A grunt escapes his lips as he quickly swings one arm over the pipe, and then a second, puttingthe steel rod under his armpits. He grimaces as the pressure irritates the pain in his shoulder. Anotherfew grunts, with some cursing mixed in, and he's seated precariously atop the bar, holding on to thekeyboard shelf to balance himself. He wipes a bead of sweat from side of his brow. Made it. Nothing todo now but wait.FiveThe thin metal pipe digs into the meat of his thighs, but he feels fairly steady. At the back of hismind he knows that it's only a matter of time before this really begins to hurt, or even cuts off thecirculation to his legs, but he can worry about that later. The next game is all that matters now. He pullshis backpack off, and manages to unbuckle one of the black nylon shoulder straps. Holding the otherstrap in his teeth, he loops it around the metal pole and refastens it, allowing the pack to hang freely.He's just finishing up when the blue screen announces the impending game round.Mouse and Keyboard.2:00With the weight of the pack no longer pulling him back Ethan finds it a little easier to balanceon the pipe. He notices that pushing against the wall of the cube with his feet provides somestabilization as well, freeing up his hands a bit. He won't be able to sit up here for hours on end, buthopefully he can last until the game round is over.The screen flickers for a moment and a League of Legends champion select screen revealsitself, bringing with it a tidal wave of questions. The game is set up for three versus three-- a teamgame?! Ethan quickly does the math in his head... or at least what passes for 'quickly' as far as Ethanand math are concerned. There should be eight gamers left in the arena, with seven active stations. Butonly six are represented here. Red Mushroom has been the perpetual wanderer so far these games, butPac-Man Ghost's elimination must have displaced someone else as well, someone who didn't make it toanother station in time.For the second game in a row, two competitors will be left out. Ethan is thankful it isn't himagain, but can't ignore the other problem at hand. While he's tenuously balanced here playing an intenseaction strategy game, there are two hunters out there that could happen upon him at any time. He gritshis teeth in frustration and adjusts his seating on the metal bar.Rather than names or handles, each gamer is simply identified by a letter of the Greek alphabet.Ethan is Gamma, his teammates Alpha and Rho. The select timer is counting down, and his twoteammates have already picked champions. He doesn't recognize most of these characters from a holein the wall. League of Legends was always Lilah's game; MOBAs never quite clicked with Ethan. Hecloses his eyes and tries to remember watching his wife play, tries to remember anything she may havesaid about particular heroes.One memory rises to the surface... Lilah complaining about a champion being “easy-mode.”That's what he needs. Cheap and easy. He replays the memory over and over, trying to recall moredetails. His name.... it began with a 'G.” The select timer is beeping, time running out. He types G intothe search bar, and that narrows it down to five champions. He mouses over them in a hurry. No, itwasn't a pirate. No, not a gargoyle. Was he fat? He can't remember if the champion was fat or not... hedoesn't think so. That leaves the cowboy, and the guy with the World of Warcraft shoulder pads. Threeseconds to decide.Fuck it. He clicks on the Garen just as the countdown ends and then it's too late to change hismind. The game locks in his choice, and proceeds to load. He stares at the character art on the loadingscreen, and lets out a quiet sigh as the memories of watching Lilah play continue to cycle through hismind. He misses her. It's only been twelve hours since he saw her last, when she slipped him the roofiecupcake, but it feels like it's been so much longer, like he's been gone for days.She must be here in the warehouse with Lucas somewhere, watching everything play outthrough the cameras all over the arena. Is she laughing herself silly right now, knowing how much hedreads MOBAs? He smiles, picturing the last time she tried to teach him to play League of Legends,and how she playfully nicknamed him “my little feeder” for the next week.Loading finishes, and he's dropped into the game, on an unfamiliar map. This isn't the one he'sseen Lilah play. It still has three lanes, but it seems much smaller. He purchases some items from the“recommended” tab of the store. His teammates A and B are already on the move, taking top andmiddle lanes respectively. Ethan heads bottom.He's opts to play safe and conservatively, and prays that his anonymous teammates are betterthan he is. He stays by his turret, and the first ten minutes of the game is tense but uneventful. Firstblood goes to top lane, with Alpha getting the drop on Kappa. Ethan relaxes a bit, with the worry offeeding the first kill alleviated. He's slowly getting more comfortable with his champion's abilities, andgetting a little bolder, pushing his lane out further, even taking a couple of shots at his opponent, Iota,in the bottom lane.His strategy of holding his lane and taking no risks slowly begins to pay off as his teammates,who are clearly far more practiced with the game, begin joining up for ganks on the other lanes. Theenemy team gets a few kills, including catching Ethan too far from his turret once, but Alpha and Rhoare unstoppable as a pair. They have two of the enemy's turrets down before losing any themselves.Ethan manages to build tanky enough to survive most team fights, and while the enemy team isfocusing him, Alpha and Rho annihilate the opposition.They're pressing the enemy's base for the win when a loud pop nearby startles Ethan, causinghim to spin around towards the sound and losing his unstable seating. He slips backwards off thesmooth metal bar, flipping upside down and nearly plummeting into the paint below, only jerking to asudden stop as the metal bar catches behind his knees.Dangling there, blood rushing to his head, his panic over his current predicament is trumpedonly by the second loud pop of a paintball gun. A tall, lanky gamer scrambles into the room, almostsprawling headfirst into the concrete as he struggles to regain his balance. In contrast to his darkmahogany skin, the whites of his eyes, wide with fear, are plain to see from across the room. He carriesno backpack, no gun, just desperation. He gives no indication that he notices Ethan, whose head ispeeking out from underneath the cube, only sparing a couple of quick glances backwards as he runs asfast as he can towards the next doorway. Ethan can't make out the patch on his jumpsuit... red andwhite... it could be a mushroom or a shell.Ethan instantly recognizes the tall blonde as she bounds into the room in pursuit, brandishingher paintball gun. She pauses to let loose another shot, just as the dark-skinned youth slides around thecorner and out the door. The paintball splatters harmlessly against the edge of the opening creating adark blue bruise on the plywood. She resumes the chase, but spares a glance towards the cube as shecrosses the room. The look of surprise on her face as she notices the upside down head sticking outfrom underneath borders on comical, but she doesn't break stride. She disappears after the other gamer.Shit, shit shit. Ethan grabs hold of the bar with both hands. He pulls himself back up into aseated position, bracing against the wall as the blood drains from his head and a wave of dizzinesswashes over him.The League of Legends map is just wrapping up. His champion, Garen, is back at the fountain,having been killed and respawned, but Alpha and Rho have such a lead on the enemy team there's nostopping them. Victory is assured. That provides some small measure of relief, but Ethan's primaryconcern right now is Blue Shell. She knows where he is, where this game station is, and she'll be back.He unzips the backpack, which still hangs from the metal pipe, so that he can grab at his gun if heneeds to.Then everything happens at once. The match ends in a win for Ethan's team, though heparticipated little in the final moments of the game. Just as the enemy's nexus explodes, two morepaintball shots ring out nearby. These ones have found their mark, and the announcement follows quickon their heels.“Red Mushroom has been eliminated! Five points to Blue Shell!”Shit. Ethan had been hoping that Blue Shell would be occupied longer than that. Now she'salready probably on her way back, looking to secure this game station for the next round, and ridherself of another opponent to boot. Ethan considers just staying put, inside the cube. She'll have a hardtime getting to him, and he may be able to get a shot on her before she has line of sight to him.The calming blue screen has just returned to the monitor inside the cube when a loudmechanical click removes it, ushering in a black screen with a giant red X across it. Well that figures.“Fourth game is complete! Scores have been posted.” Lucas continues overhead.It's just as well, Ethan decides. Sitting on the bar for the past forty-five minutes has taken itstoll. His thighs are sore from where the metal rod has been digging into them, and his right shoulderhas begin to throb again, from the strain of keeping himself balanced this entire time. He's beginning tounhook his backpack when he hears her.“Comfortable in there?” Blue Shell asks from across the room.Ethan pauses, remaining completely still, but he's under no illusion that he'll be able to fool herinto thinking he's gone. He considers his options. He's sore and achy, and the game station is offline,but she doesn't know that. As far as she knows, there's no reason for him to leave.“Oh it's great. I've got a whole beanbag chair up in here.” He shoots back.“Well that must be nice.” Her tone is playful, but there's a coldness underneath.“Yeah, it's pretty snazzy. There's a cappuccino machine in here too.” He finds himself wishinghe had just taken her out earlier when he'd had the chance.“So I suppose I won't be able to convince you to come on out of there?” She knows the answeralready.“Nah, I'm pretty settled. I get my mail here now, and the cable guy is coming in the morning tohook up HBO.” This won't last forever. Eventually she'll grow impatient and attempt cross the lava, orthe pins and needles creeping through his legs will force him to climb down. Either way ends up withone of them eliminated. The question is, who falters first?Unless there's another way... She's saying something about having the upper hand here, and thatshe'll give him a head start if he climbs down, which he doesn't believe for a second. For the most parthe's tuned her out. He's replaying the day's eliminations in his head, counting on his fingers. Two shotsto take out Red Mushroom... three that I heard during the chase. That's five. And earlier, when shechased him away from his game station... at least ten shots were fired... how many of them were hers?At least half of them had to be hers, he figures. Ten shots total, give or take. She should onlyhave a couple left. Unless she picked up somebody else's gun. Is that even legal? Lucas didn't say itwas against the rules. It's a gamble, but he can't think of a better option.“You still there?” She shouts.He has no idea what she was just saying. “Oh, sorry. I was in the shower.”She laughs. “Well I was offering you one of my waters and a ten-minute head start if you comeout quietly.”“Now why would I want to leave this perfectly cozy game station?” He reaches into his bag,careful not to make too much noise. Delicately, he pulls out and unfolds the pink backpack.A loud pop and the smack of a dark blue paintball against the inner edge of the cube a fewinches below his foot is not the response he was expecting. She must be lying at the edge of the lavapool, it's the only way she could have gotten that angle. Even still, a quarter inch above or below and itwould have hit the outside wall, or missed the cube completely. He doubts it was a lucky shot.“Because,” She yells. “If I have to walk out there, are you sure you can get me before I get you?”One less paintball to worry about. “You make a pretty valid argument.” Ethan concedes. “Andyou promise you'll give me a head start?”“I promise.”“Okay then,” He warns. “I'm coming out!” He makes some mock shuffling noise with his feetagainst the side wall. With his right hand, he quickly lowers the pink backpack below the edge of thecube, and right on cue, it's pelted with two paintballs in rapid succession. He drops the pink backpack,which lands in the red paint below with a soft splatter, and grabs his own pistol. Tightening his grip onthe pole with his left hand, he slides backwards, locking the bar underneath his knees. Flipping upsidedown, he swings the pistol out towards the blonde crouched at the edge of the pool.She fires first, but the empty hiss of compressed gas is all that escapes the barrel of her gun; she's out ofammo. Her momentary surprise is all the hesitation Ethan needs to orient himself in his upside downposition, and train his own gun in her direction. He squeezes off one shot that goes wide, but it'senough to get her attention. She drops her empty pistol and rolls to the side in a blur of charcoaljumpsuit and whirling blonde hair.Ethan's second shot also goes wide, but he's mostly just shooting to keep her moving. She's sprintingtowards the door now, and Ethan holds off wasting any further ammo. He doubts he could hit her if hewas right-side up, much less swinging from a metal pipe with the world turned on its head.As soon as she disappears around the door, he reaches up and stuffs the pistol back into his bag.He zips it up and frantically attempts to unhook it from the metal pipe. Yanking it loose, he slips hisarm through the other strap and then goes about trying to untangle himself. Hanging by both hands, he'sjust able to reach the nearest stepping block with the toe of his shoe, and shift his weight to it. Safely onthe platform, he retrieves his pistol and points it towards the door. He doubts she'll be coming backwhile she has no weapon, but he keeps the gun ready as he makes his way off over the pool of lavapaint. Back on solid concrete, he takes a moment to catch his breath and plan his next move.He grabs her discarded paintball gun and tosses it into the red paint. It lands with a plop, andslowly sinks into the thick liquid. It had no ammo, but he feels safer knowing there's one less weaponin the arena. The idea of hiding in the fort in case she comes back, either for the gun or another stab atthe game station is tempting, but ultimately counter-productive. She's less of a threat with no gun, andEthan needs to find yet another game station.The scoreboard updates him on the situation. Energy Tank is showing a five point increase. Starand Red Shell have both gained five points as well, so that must have been Alpha and Rho. The otherteam won no points. A little over two hours until the next game. He sighs, preparing himself for yetanother nerve-wracking expedition through the maze that is the arena. He wonders if the alcove gamestation is still active after all this time. He rubs the weariness from his eyes. Should have just stayed inthe damn alcove, he tells himself again.Weapon or no, he's not going in the same direction as Blue Shell. He takes the door he came inthrough, backtracking a couple of rooms until another path opens up. Once in unfamiliar territoryagain, he slows down, exercising the caution that has worked well enough for him so far. He's keepinga good pace until he reaches the tubes.SixThe room is entirely empty, clearly not intended to be a battle zone but more of an anteroom forwhat lies ahead. In front of him, instead of a door, is a wide, rectangular wall with half a dozenmanhole-sized circles cut out of it. Connected to these openings are brightly colored, opaque plastictubes, like you might see on a child’s playground. Each tube extends a few feet back before snaking offwildly in one direction or another. A giant hamster maze, a network of plastic tunnels leading to whoknows where.The thought of backtracking again crosses his mind, but treading the same ground over and overwill get him nowhere. He'll never find a new game station if he doesn't keep moving forward. WithBlue Shell wandering around, there's at least one active, unoccupied station out here, and he wants tofind it before she does.Tightening the backpack across his shoulders, he stuffs the gun into the rear waistband of hispants, and approaches the entrance to a blue tube a few feet off the ground. Climbing in, the smoothplastic is cold against his palms, and crawling along on all fours makes it impossible to avoid makingnoise. Noise that also echoes down the tunnel. Well, if there's anyone else in here, they know I'mcoming.Someone else was in here. After about ten minutes of navigating twists and turns, and tunnelsthat loop back on themselves to connect with tunnels of various other colors, the path in front of himopens up into a small compartment, with a game station. He sees the black screen with the red X first,before he can get his hopes up, so he just focuses on the tunnels.Ten more minutes crawling around in the nest of tubes and he's beginning to get frustrated at theamount of time he's wasting. For all he knows the tunnels just lead back out to the room he started in,and this whole thing will have been a waste of time. But the only other option is to sit down and giveup, so he presses on.A few twists and turns later, and he sees light around a bend ahead. He slows down, inchingforward with his gun drawn, in case there's anyone waiting in the next room. He's sure that hisapproach has been broadcast down the hollow tube, so the element of surprise is long gone. He's moreconcerned about seeing any potential threat in time to make a hasty retreat.The tube reaches its end higher up off the ground than the one he entered. The room below islarge, with an exit off to the far left. There are no bunkers, and no other gamers hiding in the room butsomething else captures his attention. Something silver about the size of a mailbox. He's seen it before.No, not this one, one just like it, earlier in the room with the rope netting. Unlike most things in thearena, it looks to be made out of metal, with a hinged hatch on the front secured by a padlock. A whiteglow emanates from the top. He remembers seeing the same white glow on the other box as he ran past.Rubber tires are laid out on their sides all around silver box, a giant field of black rings ten feetdeep. He thinks back to the other box he saw, situated behind sheet after sheet of rope netting. Clearlythey didn't want anyone getting to these boxes easily.He shuffles out of the tube, making the short drop to the floor. Looking back at the wall, there'sonly the one opening... all of the other tubes must have run off towards other rooms. He stretches amoment, thankful to be able to stand up straight again after nearly a half hour crawling around on hishands and knees. Casually walking over to the mass of tires, he notices something else. Some sort ofclear jelly slathered all over the tops of the rubber rings. Crouching, he reaches out and gently touchesthe nearest tire. His finger sticks. Adhesive.He wipes the glue residue off on the side of his pants. Better not trip, he tells himself. Carefullyhe places his first foot in the center of the tire in front of him, balancing on one leg as he places hissecond foot. Moving slowly and making sure to pick his knees up, he traverses the tire obstacles withrelative ease. He stumbles once, and plants his left foot on the side of a tire, where it sticks fast. He hasto yank it free, trying not to stumble backwards in the process. His left sneaker makes a smackingsound each time it tears free of the cement for the last few steps.Once clear of the tires, he scrapes his shoe back and forth on the concrete, trying to rub theadhesive off. Satisfied that it's as clean as he can get it, he turns back to the silver box he came for. It'sdefinitely metal, sturdy and cold to the touch. The small hatch in the front is secured with a largecombination padlock, the kind with four number dials.The glow he'd seen isn't coming from inside the box, but rather from a digital tablet mounted tothe top. He steps up to the large chest to get a better look at the screen of the tablet. In the center of thetouchscreen is a giant round button that simply says “Begin.” Above it, the text reads:Answer Trivia?Ethan takes three hasty steps back from the box, looking at it like it's a barrel of poisonoussnakes. He searches around for any paint bombs attached to the sides of the container, the walls, insideany of the tires. Nothing looks like it could explode into a blast of tournament-ending paint. Still,memories of his last trivia experience nearly convince him to just leave the box alone, to move on.Curiosity wins out though, and he steps back up to the chest.He presses the 'Begin' button, and leaps back, ready to run at the first sign of trouble, butnothing happens. He creeps back up to the tablet like a man about to try and disarm a nuclear device.He peers at the screen, but there's no doomsday countdown, just a single question.Mike Haggar is the mayor of what city?Easy one! Beneath the question is a touchscreen keyboard. Ethan taps out “Metro” and hitsenter. He freezes, waiting for alarms and bells and explosions. Another silent question pops up instead.Guybrush Threepwood is afraid of this.Ethan pauses, unsure of the answer. It's been over a decade since he's played Monkey Island,and exhaustion has starting to cover his mind like a blanket of wet snow, making it harder to think. Wasit plaster? No... Porcelain! It's porcelain, dur. He laughs to himself when the next question appears.Name the only character to appear in every Fallout game.Without hesitation, he types out “Harold” and presses enter. That might have been a tough onefor someone else, but Ethan knows Fallout better than he knows his own parents. In giant bold letters, afour digit number blinks onto the screen. Well that wasn't so bad. He grabs the large steel padlock andbegins entering the numbers. He gives it a quick pull and with the a click the padlock pops off. He pullsthe hatch open, and inside the little compartment, on a shelf is a small green sack of crushed velvet,cinched at the top with a drawstring. He's so excited to retrieve his prize, he doesn't think twice beforegrabbing it.There's a short beep, the screen on the tablet turns a bright red, and large white words beginblinking really fast. He leans forward to read it.Air Strike Imminent.What?Air str--? The thought trails off as he looks up, and hanging from the rafters high aboveby the lights he spots about twenty large balloons. Judging by the way they're sagging, each one isfilled with thick, heavy paint. You have got to be fucking kidding me. He clutches the velvet pouchtighter, and spins around, only then remembering the tire obstacle course in between him and safety.They didn't put these here to make it harder for people to get to the box. They're here so it's harder toget away!He's managed to set one foot into the tire field in front of him when, off to his far left, a loudsmack accompanies an explosion of yellow paint. He starts running, kicking his knees high into the airto clear the tires, focused entirely on the ground in front of him where his feet need to land. Around himmore wet explosions spur him on, but he refuses to look anywhere but straight down. He's never beenan athletic person, but decades of video games have given him some measure of coordination. He tearsthrough the tire field like he's been practicing all his life. The bombs are falling faster now, a symphonyof liquid detonations, but he's almost clear. A paint balloon explodes directly behind him, where he wasjust moments before.Ethan's almost to the edge when he gets ahead of himself, when he gets sloppy and stumbles.Hands sprawled out in front of him to break his fall, the velvet pouch goes sliding across the floor justpast the obstacle course. His hands and knees make contact with the sticky surface of the tires, andimmediately he's ensnared. A moment later there's a pop in front of him, and a splotch of yellow paintblossoms into existence right where he'd have been if he hadn't tripped. He stares in disbelief for thebriefest of seconds, then begins struggling to stand, struggling to break the grasp the adhesive has onhim. It's slow and arduous, and balloons continue to deliver their bright yellow destruction all aroundhim.Finally he clears the last couple of tires, diving free of the bombing zone. Reaching down hescoops up the velvet bag, the glue all over his hands ensuring it won't slip free again. He runs to the farcorner of the room, collapsing from sheer exhaustion and adrenaline overload. Looking back at thefield of tires as the last couple of balloons fall, nearly every inch of the area is now dripping with neonyellow paint.He's got glue all over his hands and knees, and some small spatters of yellow mist in a couple ofplaces on his uniform, but remarkably he avoided taking any direct hits. Ethan takes a moment to offersilent thanks to the gods, and then forces himself to his feet. He needs to find someplace to take coverand clean up. He contemplates crawling back into the tube, but the entrance is nearly seven feet off theground, and he doesn't want to risk getting lost in those tunnels again. Perhaps the next room will havea bunker or something.It has something better. Situated in the corner of the next room is a two-tiered fort, similar to theone he saw earlier when he ran into Green Mushroom. A ladder on the side marks the only way up tothe second story of the small building, which is surrounded on all sides by mock wooden crenelations.Ethan climbs up in a hurry, his hands sticking to the wooden rungs of the ladder. Up top he shrugs thebackpack off his shoulders and slumps down to the floor.He starts rubbing his hands against the rough wooden walls, attempting to work the glue residueoff with friction. He uncaps a fresh water bottle and, after taking a generous swallow, uses a smallsplash of it to work the last of the adhesive off of his fingers. He leans back against the wall andreaches for the velvet pouch. He unties the drawstring and yanks the top open. A wide grin breaksacross his face, and tears of happiness well up in his eyes.He reaches into the bag and pulls out the gleaming silver and blue can of Red Bull. Anythingthat helps him keep going is worth its own weight in gold at the moment. He grasps the tab and pullsback, a spray of mist escaping as the can cracks open. He puts the cold aluminum to his lips and drinksdeep, enjoying the burn of the carbonation against the back of his throat. With an exaggerated gasp ofapproval, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and sets the drink down.Looking back in the pouch he finds even more goodies. A small flashlight that attaches to therails on top of his paintball pistol. Another granola bar, which he scarfs down on the spot. And there'ssomething else. He immediately recognizes the rubbery, olive green object at the very bottom of thebag, but hesitates to grab it. Small and oval, it's little larger than a baseball. At one end is a bright redplastic cap, from which dangles a thin black ring. A paint grenade.He closes up the velvet pouch, carefully wrapping the excess material around the grenade,bundling it up nice and safe. He gently places the package in his backpack next to his remainingsupplies, taking care that it won't get jostled around too much. Paint grenades can be unreliable in hisexperience, and he doesn't want to take any chances. Ethan is just zipping the bag up when Lucaschimes in via the speakers overhead.“Yashichi has been eliminated! Only six gamers remaining!”He watches the bright orange and white pinwheel icon flickers off on the scoreboard overhead,but no points are awarded to any of the remaining gamers. He's confused at first, but finally decidesthat Yashichi must have fallen victim to one of the traps around the arena. Maybe he went for a treasurebox, and couldn't escape whatever horrible ambush lay in wait. Or maybe he just had to go to thebathroom.Finishing off his Red Bull and stifling a belch, he gathers himself up. The second floor of thefort is incredibly defensible, but there's no game station up here. As much as he'd love to just curl upand let the other gamers fight themselves into elimination, there's too much at stake. With the backpacksecurely around his shoulders, and his paint gun tucked into his waistband, he climbs down the ladder.SevenAs he moves through room after room, Ethan begins to get a second-wind. Whether or not hisrenewed vigor is a legitimate result of the energy drink, or just a placebo effect, he's not sure, and hedoesn't care either. The fatigue he'd been feeling is subsiding, at least a little bit, and all that matters ismaking it to the end of this tournament.Another deactivated game station reminds him that with only five left in the entire arena he'sgoing to have to pick up the pace. This game station is the most exposed he's seen yet. A desk sits in thecorner with a black leather office chair behind it, facing out into the room. Sitting behind the desk, agamer would have a constant view of the two entrances to the room while playing, but no cover asidefrom the desk. As a testament to that fact, the entire corner is peppered with splotches of blue and redpaint. The walls, the desk, even the back of the monitor took a hit, though the dripping paint is mostlydried now.The clock is running out, and so Ethan is sprinting through the maze now, pausing only brieflyat the entrance to each room in order to check for obvious signs of game stations or other competitors.This makes him far more vulnerable, but the sheer size of the arena leaves him no choice. Nearlyfifteen hours have passed since the games started, and he still doesn't think he's seen half of the roomsin the giant labyrinth.He's so preoccupied with imagining the size of the arena and how many people it must havetaken to put it together, that he rounds a corner without slowing down and runs headlong into BlueShell. The two of them crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs, and surprised shouts.Ethan lands on his injured shoulder, sending a nauseating shock of pain shooting through historso. He rolls over, unscrambling himself from the young blonde gamer who is also attempting tocatch her breath. As the dazed bewilderment of the sudden impact wears off, they both really see eachother for the first time, and all physical ailments are instantly forgotten.They scramble to sit upright, Ethan reaching for the paintball pistol in his waistband butgrasping at air. He glances around frantically, spotting the gun lying on the ground six feet away. Itmust have fallen free during the collision. Out of the corner of his eye he can tell that Blue Shell hasspotted it as well.They both lunge for the firearm, hitting the ground swatting, grappling and clawing at eachother in an attempt to reach it first. Ethan blocks an elbow thrown by the fierce woman, taking theopportunity to grab onto her forearm and pin it to the ground. She kicks at him, snarling like a feralbeast, but he draws his legs up in time and his shins take the brunt of the attack.Ethan turns slightly, one foot getting traction on the concrete, and scrambles forward reachingfor the gun with his left hand. Blue Shell seizes a handful of his jersey and stops him with the gun justinches out of reach. He throws an elbow of his own, attempting to dislodge her grasp, but connectssquarely with her left breast instead. Ethan's head spins back, eyes wide with a plea for forgiveness,expecting a torrent of fury in retaliation. She pays his silent admission of guilt no mind, and uses hismomentary hesitation to lunge for the handgun herself.Snapped out of his apologetic pause, he too turns his attention back to the gun. Blue Shell grabsit first, but Ethan's hand locks on the barrel a split second afterward. Both attempting to wrest the pistolfree, a frantic tug of war ensues. After a brief struggle on the floor, Blue Shell tries to stand, hoping thesuperior positioning will help her rip the handgun from Ethan's grasp. As she tries to get her legsunderneath her, Ethan pulls with all his strength, catching her off balance. She stumbles forward again,knocking the wind from his chest as she lands on top of him.The falls loosens her grip for just a split second, but it's enough for Ethan to twist the gunaround in their mutual grip so that the barrel is nearly pointing directly at her left shoulder. Sherecovers quickly, recognizing his plan and fighting to keep clear of the gun's business end. She's skinny,and he's slightly stronger than she is, but she has gravity on her side.Sweat begins to bead up on his forehead as he grits his teeth and pushes back, the pain in hisshoulder fighting against him. He looks up at the woman, seeing her up close for the first time. Herdeep green eyes are focused on the gun with an intensity so fierce he wouldn't be at all surprised if theysuddenly starting shooting lasers. Small cinnamon freckles dust her cheekbones. Her hair is tousled, nolonger entirely contained in the neat ponytail as it was earlier. Wild strands of thick yellow hair fly freeof the elastic, evidence of the long, trying day she's had.She's attractive, save for the sheer murderous blood lust currently twisting her features into amask of rage. The realization that he's being straddled by a young, attractive blonde suddenly dawns onhim, and for a fleeting second he thinks of Lilah, likely watching this through one of the camerassomewhere. Wait, this doesn't count as cheating, does it?!The momentary lapse in concentration is enough. Blue Shell, perhaps seeing it his eyes,snatches the opportunity and pushes down with all of her weight. It's too late for Ethan to push back,but he recovers in time to roll with it. He releases his grip on the gun as she pushes forward, throwingher off balance. At the same time he kicks up with his legs, tossing her over his head.As she lands sprawling on the ground behind him, he leaps up and runs for the nearest exit. Hehears her swear aloud as she tries to get to her feet. She'll be right behind him, he knows, so as he runshe pulls the backpack off his shoulder and praying that it didn't rupture in the tussle, fishes around forthe crushed velvet bag inside.Pulling it out the small, soft bundle, he tosses the backpack behind a bunker as he runs by,hoping she doesn't see it. If this works he can always go back for it. If it doesn't, well, the backpackwon't matter anymore.He runs as fast as he's ever run, trying to put as much distance between him and her as possible.He can hear her footsteps mingled with his own, so she's a room back but not much further. Currentlyin last place, there's no way she can win the tournament based on score. Her only chance at this point isto be the last one standing, and she knows it. She won't give up the opportunity to eliminate anopponent. Ethan is counting on it.He darts into another room, making sure his footsteps are loud enough that she'll be able tofollow. However just after clearing the doorway he spins around, almost losing his footing as hechanges directions. He flattens up against the wall and holds his breath as he unwraps the grenade.His heart is pounding in his chest, his lungs screaming for air when she finally runs into theroom after him. As he hoped, she's focused on the chase, not even considering that she should checkher flanks for an ambush. As far as she knows, he's unarmed. He may as well be. He only gets one shotat this.As she nears the center of the room, barreling towards the only other way out of the room, hislungs can't take it anymore. He exhales loudly as he pulls the pin on the grenade. The sound catches herattention and she whirls around just in time to see him lob the grenade in her direction. She's paying noattention to the strange green object hurtling towards her feet though. She brings the gun around,squeezing off shots before it's even leveled in his direction.Ethan drops to the floor, hard, eating concrete for the third time today. At least this time iswholly intentional, and he can break his fall a bit. It's still a rough landing though, another few bruisesto add to the running tally. The cracks of exploding paintballs hitting the wall above him ring in hisears, and he can feel the droplets and broken pellet pieces raining down on him. The grenade hasn'tdetonated. It didn't work. He tenses, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing for the sharp sting of thepaintball that will mark the end of the tournament. Then he hears the loud pop from the center of theroom, followed by the sound of a gentle rain.He dares to open one eye slightly and peek over to where Blue Shell was standing, stillexpecting to be met with the sharp smack of a paintball. But she isn't firing anymore. Instead she standsin stunned silence, looking down at her legs which are covered up to the knees with glistening purplepaint. The empty grenade tube rocks back and forth just in front of her, ending it's pressurized, paintdispensing spin. Ethan blinks a few times to make sure he isn't dreaming. It worked! He can't believe it!Neither can Blue Shell, who continues to stand there in disbelief even as Lucas announces herelimination to the entire arena. She says nothing as the volunteers scale a nearby wall with a ladder,calling out for her to come with them. She bends over, gently dropping Ethan's paintball gun to theconcrete floor with a soft clatter. She looks at Ethan for a moment, but says nothing. She turns andfollows the volunteers.Ethan climbs to his feet, brushing himself off. He wants to call out to her, to say... what?Congratulations on a good fight? Better luck next time? He can't think of anything to say that won'tsound like gloating, so instead he says nothing. He just raises his hand in a silent farewell as sheascends the ladder but she doesn't turn back. And just like that she's disappeared over the wall, her timein the Game Games Bowl having come to an end.Ethan walks over to retrieve his gun. The kill put him in second place, but it won't last long. Thenext game begins in fifteen minutes, and the chances of finding an active game station in time are slim.With a sigh, he resigns himself to missing another game round. He walks back to retrieve his backpack,which he finds right where he tossed it. He's tired of running, and he welcomes the opportunity to takeit easy for a little while.EightNo sooner is he settling into the idea of a nice relaxing stroll, than he wanders into a room withthe cruelest game station he's seen yet. In the center of the room sits a giant dunk tank, like you'd see ata carnival fair. Instead of water, however, the tank is filled with neon green paint. A sign on the sidelabels it as “Acid”. Of course it is, Ethan thinks sarcastically. A ladder mounted on the side of the tankprovides the only access inside, where a wooden bench hovers over the green liquid. And inside, amonitor with a bright blue screen.High above is a small metallic targeting circle sticking out of a long metal arm shooting up theside of the tank. A well-aimed softball (or in this case, paintball) would trigger the mechanism,dropping the bench into the vat of green slime below. Remarkably, the lack of a mess suggests that ithasn't happened yet. Whoever occupied this game station earlier left of their own volition. And nevercame back.Something is written on the game station's screen, but Ethan can't make it out from where he'sstanding. The thick, clear plastic walls of the dunk tank distort everything on the other side. The clockabove tells him that the current game round is already underway, but perhaps you're allowed to join agame in progress. He's not convinced it's even worth it.If this was the open game station he and Blue Shell were hunting for, and it's still active, thenher elimination shut down a different station, displaced someone else, and they'll now be on the move.And none too happy, either. Ethan can't imagine any way to escape elimination if he were to get caughtin that dunk tank. Even if his opponent was a terrible shot, he'd still be a sitting duck in that tank.On the other hand, there are only three game rounds left, including this one. Can he reallyafford to give up the opportunity to put more points on the board?He climbs the ladder, praying that he won't end up regretting it. Inside the dunk tank, the smellof paint is nearly overwhelming, and he chokes back his gag reflex as he settles down onto the bench.The chemical odor makes his eyes water and he can almost hear Lilah chiding him over the inevitableloss of brain cells. The seat bounces a little bit as he shifts into position, and he grabs onto the edge ofthe tank in case the mechanism fails and the bench gives way. But it holds.“Join Game in Progress?” The computer monitor is asking him. He reaches for the keyboard,only then realizing that the shelf in front of the screen is empty. He follows the cord down to where itdisappears into the green paint. Whoever was here earlier, either accidentally or intentionally, knockedthe peripherals down into the “acid”. Fortunately the wire for the Xbox controller wasn't as long as theothers, and it dangles a few inches away from the paint. Fantastic. I hope this is Xbox game.He grabs the controller and hits start. After a brief loading screen, Ethan is relieved to see agame he knows this time. Puzzle Quest 2. The game randomly generates low level heroes for him andhis opponent, and the match begins. Ethan's solace of recognition is short-lived, as the gems don't fallhis way, and he loses the match in just under ten minutes.His second match ends in defeat as well, but he manages to turn it around against his finalopponent, bringing in at least one win. The game round won't add many points to his score, butanything is still better than zero, he tells himself. When the round is over, he can't climb out of hisdeathtrap of a game station fast enough.Back on the ground outside the dunk tank, he's considering where to spend the next couple ofhours while he waits for the next game, when Lucas' customary announcement bellows through thespeakers.“Fifth game round is complete! Only two more to go! Good luck!” Ethan notes that Lucassounds entirely more pleased with himself than usual, and he learns why a minute later. Withresounding, rhythmic clangs, the bright lights over the arena begin to shut off, one row at a time. Inseconds the entire warehouse is bathed in complete darkness.“Son of a bitch.” Ethan says aloud to no one in particular. He remembers the flashlight nowattached to the top of his gun, and gives silent thanks for his decision to go after that treasure box. He'sfumbling in the dark to find the switch when another clang rings out overhead, and the entire room isbathed in a rich, red light. He blinks, eyes struggling to adjust for the second time in as many minutes,and looks around. The dunk tank now looks even more sinister, the green paint now appearing as aslightly murky brown under the intense red light.Ethan looks up again, wondering why they would only turn a single light back on, but noticesanother in the distance. And another not too far from that one. Four in total. He shudders involuntary asthe realization dawns on him; the lights are marking the locations of the remaining active gamestations. Once again he has to stop and congratulate Lucas for his sheer evil genius. Now not only dothe competitors know where to go to find each other, but in between them is a sea of shadow where anynumber of traps and ambushes could be lying in wait.Under the red glow, Ethan finds the switch for his gun's light, and memorizes its location bytouch. Satisfied that he'll be able to locate it in the dark, he leaves the dunk tank room, looking to putsome distance between himself and the bright red beacon that at this very moment may be attractingother hunters.Once in the next room, he pauses, attempting to give his eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness.He fights the urge to switch on his flashlight, knowing it would make things easier, but alsoimmediately give away his position. He keeps one hand on the wall, moving slowly, feeling forobstacles with his feet.He finds a U-shaped bunker against the wall, though he can't tell its relation to other exits orobstacles in the room. Sitting down behind it, he opens his backpack and gropes around inside. Hisbrief rental of the Red Bull from earlier has expired, and he's not about to hunt down another port-apotty. He finds the empty water bottle inside the backpack and takes the opportunity to relieve himself.He's nearly finished when it occurs to him that Lucas probably set up night-vision cameras to continuetracking the Gamers during this blackout. Too late now. He raises his head and grins for any camerasthat may be watching. He caps the bottle and sets it against the wall.Next he pulls out and eats his remaining granola bars, opening the wrappers with as littlecrinkling as he can manage. The tournament is winding down, and he's tired of carrying the backpackaround. He's enjoying his little feast in the dark when the wrappers give him an idea. He gathers themup and crawls out from behind his bunker, back towards the doorway to the dunk tank room. In what hethinks is the middle of the room, he lays out the granola bar wrappers in a straight line. He gropes hisway back to his barricade.There isn't much to do in the dark but sit and stare up at the scoreboard overhead. He's hung onto second place behind Invincibility Star, but Super Leaf isn't far behind. Ethan catches himselfbeginning to nod off, so he stands up. It's not like anyone can see him anyway. He paces back and fortha bit, watching the clock tick down minute by minute.They're halfway to the next game round when somebody decides they're sick of waiting, andmakes their move. The first pop of compressed CO2 echoes through the darkness, and even with theechoes, Ethan is easily able to identify which direction it came from. Off to his left, over the wall thathis bunker rests against, he can just make out the top of the really tall game station that he saw when hefirst woke up in the arena; the fort on stilts with the ladder beneath it. He can't see more than the rooffrom here, awash in a crimson glow, but he can hear the battle taking place to control it.The exchange is erratic, and sometimes three or four minutes pass between shots. Ethan islistening so intently to the distant battle, he nearly jumps out of his skin at the crunch of thin plasticwrapper so close. Someone with a nasally voice whispers a curse under their breath, and his heart leapsinto his throat. Someone creeping towards the dunk tank game station has walked into his makeshiftalarm system just a few feet away!Ethan raises his gun towards the direction of the noise, towards where he thinks he put theempty wrappers. He concentrates, listening for another noise, anything to help him pinpoint thelocation of the intruder. Apparently they're not going to be that accommodating. A couple of minutespass, silent save for the occasional crack of paintballs in the distance.He reaches for the light on the top of his paintball gun, brushing his fingers along the coldaluminum, exploring with his fingers until he finds the switch. He's suddenly blinded by a bright light,but not from his gun. He squeezes off a round as he stumbles back, startled by the sudden illumination.Out of the corner of his eye he sees the light veer off sharply as well, the person holding it equallyalarmed by Ethan's wild shot in his direction.Ethan hits the floor, but at once scrambles back to his feet, gun at the ready. The other light hasclicked off, again shrouding the two gamers in absolute darkness. Shit. I guess I'm not the only one whowent after one of those treasure boxes. He cautiously takes a few steps to his right, feeling around forany obstacles. He's lost track of his opponent, but at least the same holds true for the other guy as well.He's alerted by the scuffle of sneakers on concrete ahead and to the right. He snaps his light on,squinting at the sudden brightness, just in time to see someone in a black and white jumpsuitscrambling towards a bunker. Ethan shoots in that direction, and quickly turns his light back off. Heducks down and as quietly as possible, moves away from where the other gamer was, feeling around soas not to run into anything. He finds a bunker of his own and climbs down behind it.Lucas' voice breaks the silence. “Metroid has been eliminated!”Ethan breathes a sigh of relief. He can't believe the lucky shot in the dark made contact.Propping himself up against the wall of the bunker, he calls out to the stranger. “Hey good try, man.You almost had m--” Lucas interrupts him, apparently not finished yet.“Five points awarded to Red Shell.”Wait a minute, Red Shell? That's when Ethan realizes the distant back and forth duel of paintballshots has quieted. The elimination happened by the other game station. That means...The flashlight clicks on, followed instantly by a few pops as the paintballs smash into thebarrier that Ethan is hiding behind, his position given away by his premature good sportsmanship.Godsdammit! He crouches down further. No more paintballs are loosed in his direction, but the lightstays on. The other Gamer has Ethan trapped, and he knows it.Ethan tries to think, tries to imagine a way out of this. If he had his backpack, he might be ableto trick his guy into wasting some paintballs, the way he did with Blue Shell, but he left it behind theother bunker. He could make a run for it, but the nearest cover is at least six feet away. He'd be gunneddown before he even got close. Maybe if he switched on his own light, he could use it to temporarilyblind the Gamer while he made his escape...He's sifting through his various options, none of them all that promising, when he notices thelight on the wall is swaying back and forth every so slightly, and the shadow cast by his bunker isgrowing smaller. The Gamer is walking towards him.Ethan spins around, lying flat on his back, gun raised ,Reservoir Dogs-style. Maybe he'll be ableto get a shot off before the gamer sees him. The light is getting closer, and his palms are beginning tosweat. The Gamer is almost to the bunker. Almost... almost...He flinches at the familiar pop of CO2, but his eyes snap open again when it's accompanied bya loud, nasally yelp, and not his own scream. The light goes erratic for a second, and then lowers to thefloor.“Awwww man.” The frustrated nerdy voice complains.Ethan lies as still as a rock, still uncertain exactly what's happening.Lucas clears it up for him. “Super Leaf has been eliminated! Five points awarded toInvincibility Star!”“I didn't see you there. Good shot.” The nerdy voice offers someone in congratulation.“Thanks. Good game, man.” A girl's voice replies.That voice... no, it can't be. Ethan rolls onto his side, silently sliding to one edge of the woodenbunker. He peeks out from around his hiding spot, and blinks in disbelief, unable to believe his eyes.There in the center of the room are two gamers, eerily lit from below by a gun flashlight pointedat the ground. The owner of the flashlight, and the whiny voice, is a short, extremely skinny lad withpoor posture. His large, hooked nose and prominent Adam's apple round out the picture ofawkwardness. Affixed to shoulder of his standard issue jumpsuit is the brown Mario Super Leaf.Standing across from him, shaking his hand, is a young woman with dark, almond-shaped eyesrimmed with long, thick eyelashes. Though normally pale, her skin looks even whiter in the brightglow of the flashlight. Her scruffy shoulder-length black hair is as fashionably tousled as ever, withbright pink bangs that sweep across her forehead. A happy yellow Invincibility Star emblazons thepatch on her shoulder.Abby! The obnoxious girl that hangs out at GameHaven from time to time; he'd recognize heranywhere. Irritation overrides fatigue as he realizes that she's Invincibility Star, the gamer currentlyholding first place in the tournament, and poised to take the Winter-een-mas crown! And she's evenfurther ahead now with her latest kill!He grinds his teeth, shooting daggers in her direction with his eyes. If she wins, she'll lord itover him all year. She'll be even more unbearable than she already is. Volunteers with flashlights oftheir own are climbing over the nearby wall, helping the scrawny, awkward Super Leaf amble up theladder. Abby waves at him, her back turned to Ethan.All of a sudden Ethan realizes that she doesn't know he's there! Super Leaf didn't mention him,either intentionally or because he was completely distracted by his own elimination. Abby hasn't evenlooked in the direction of the bunker where Ethan is hiding.Fumbling with the gun, Ethan berates himself for getting so caught up with other emotions andnot seizing the opportunity earlier. By the time he's got the pistol pointed around the edge of thebunker, it's too late. Super Leaf and the volunteers have disappeared over the wall, taking theirflashlights with them. The room is engulfed in shadow again. If Abby has a light of her own, she isn'tusing it.He reaches for the light on his own gun, but stops himself at the last second; he took too long.She could be anywhere in the room now, and turning on the light will only give away his positionagain. As much as it irritates him, the smart play here is to let her go, and try to get the drop on herlater.Lying there, he chuckles silently to himself as thinks back to earlier in the tournament. Abbywas the one who stole the alcove from him. That means she's also the one who saved him from GreenMushroom. And she saved him from Super Leaf just now. No, he reminds himself. She did that forherself. She didn't even know I was here. Right?The ground is cold, but it helps to soothe his aching muscles, so he lies there for a bit. Beforelong though it's threatening to put him to sleep, so he makes himself stand up. It seems darker than itdid before, and he notices that a red light no longer illuminates the dunk tank game station nearby. It'sfor the best, he decides. There's no way I'd want to sit in that thing again.Only three icons remain lit on the scoreboard. Abby holds first place, followed by Ethan andfinally Red Shell bringing up the rear. The countdown taunts him with its unrelenting march towardszero, each minute that passes a grim reminder that he is once again without a game station. Hisshoulders slump as he lets out a long, low sigh. He's exhausted, he's hungry, he's achy. He has to hand itto Lucas; this tournament has truly tested his will and determination, pushed him to his physical andmental limits. Whoever walks away with the crown tonight will deserve it. For the first time sinceannouncing the Game Games Bowl, he truly believes that. His desire to win remains unshaken, but thelast shreds of selfishness and possessiveness over the crown have worn away over the past dozen hours.He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.Time to finish this.NineHe works his way towards one of the remaining two game stations, but it takes forever. Unableto see and unwilling to turn on his flashlight, he heads in the general direction of the red beacon byfollowing the walls, but still manages to get disoriented a couple of times and ends up heading thewrong way. He manages to accumulate a few new scrapes and bruises as well, blindly discovering lowbarriers and crates with his shins.The clock reaches zero and resets to three hours, marking the start of the new round. Ethan hasgotten close to one of the illuminated game stations, but has to slow down even further to avoid alertingany nearby competitors. It's clear that he won't reach it in time to claim it for himself, but maybe he cancatch one of his opponents off guard.A wrong turn forces him to backtrack and try another route, so twenty minutes have passedbefore he finally sees a red, door-shaped glow in the darkness ahead. He's hoping the game round isstill in progress as he creeps towards the entrance. He sticks to the wall, carefully placing one foot infront of the other so as not to make any noise. Finally, readying his pistol, he peeks around thedoorway.The center of the room is dominated by a large rectangular plexiglass box. A door on the rightside appears to be the only way inside it. In the center of the cube is a thin wooden post sticking out ofthe floor by about a foot. Nearby is another pole that reaches all the way to the ceiling of the cube.Attached to it is a shelf that holds the monitor and keyboard. The only way to reach it would bebalancing on the short wooden post and reach upwards, a tough and strenuous position to play from.Nearly impossible for a shorter gamer. The monitor emits the calming blue light that indicates thestation is active, yet it's unoccupied.Ethan ducks back into his room confused. Did his two competitors converge on the other gamestation, leaving this one wide open? Did they get lost in the darkness altogether? Or are they just lyingin wait, waiting for some poor fool to go for the easy grab? Ethan's determined not to be that fool. Hefinds a stack of tires opposite the door, which he shuffles around to make a little hiding spot. And therehe waits.Forty-five minutes into the new countdown, and nobody has made a play for the open gamestation. He understands why when Lucas chimes in overhead.“Game round six ends in a draw! No competitors. Only one game left! Who will be the newKing or Queen of Winter-een-mas?!”Abby will be, if everyone stays holed up in their hiding spots, Ethan answers silently. It's now ornever. If he does nothing, he loses. He's certain that if there are still three people in the arena when thenext game starts, the only people going for a game station will be second and third place. Abby willstay hidden and attempt to ambush one of them, securing her victory. The only chance he has iseliminating one of them before that happens. Crouched behind his wall of tires, he tries to think.Wandering back off into the darkness is out of the question. The chances of getting completelylost are too high, and he can't afford to waste any time. He needs to set up a trap, and it needs to behere, in the room adjacent to the game station. He decides to risk turning on his flashlight for a briefsecond, to get the layout of the room. Sweeping it across the room, he sees another bunker on theopposite side of the room. He quickly turns the light off and ducks back behind the tires, nervouslywaiting to see if he was discovered.The anxiety lights a spark, causing an explosion of ideas rip through his mind, a chain-reactionof subsequent thoughts that expand, build on each other and then coalesce into a cheap, desperate plan.When he's sure no one is going to start shooting at him, he slips off his shoes and arranges themso the toes of his sneakers poke out from behind the tire wall. He tugs at the left sleeve of his jerseyfuriously, until the stitches begin to tear at the shoulder seam. Yanking the sleeve loose, he tosses it tothe side and begins working the flashlight free of the metal rail on top of his pistol. Tying one end ofthe sleeve around the little light, he tucks the other end in between two of the tires at the top of thestack.He stands, looking around once more, and then switches on the flashlight. He pulls it forwardand then lets it go, turning to run to the other bunker as the flashlight starts swinging back and forth onthe pendulum. Safely behind the bunker on the other side of the room, he kicks the wooden surface infront of him as hard as he can. He doesn't have to entirely fake the scream of pain that follows the loudsmack of bone on wood. He lets loose another couple of agonized whimpers for good measure, andducks down to wait.It doesn't take long; as he suspected, both of the other Gamers were hovering around thevicinity of the two active game stations. Abby arrives first. To her credit she moves as deftly as a cat asshe works her way through the shadows, and he doesn't see her until she's almost in front of him. Butby the time she's gotten there, the flashlight at the end of the torn fabric is only swaying gently backand forth. Combined with the “feet” sticking out from behind the tires, it looks as if someone iswrithing back and forth in pain.Abby approaches cautiously, her gun intently concentrated on the tire stack. She passes thebunker Ethan is hiding behind, circling around to the tire fort. Seeing her rush to the aid of a woundedopponent, Ethan feels a brief pang of guilt, for luring her in with such a cheap plot. He shakes his head.No. She's been drawn in by the prospect of injured, easy prey. Nothing more. But she won't be fooledfor long. Ethan stalks forward, his socks once again making absolutely no sound as he crosses theconcrete floor.The girl in front of him has paused now, eyeing the bait ahead of her. She's figured it out. Ethantakes the last step forward before she can run, gently pushing the barrel of his pistol into the small ofher back. She jumps slightly, startled by the sudden contact from behind, but doesn't turn. Ethan leansin behind her. Her hair smells like strawberries. She turns her head.“Gotcha.” He whispers into her ear.Ethan's finger is brushing the trigger, when suddenly the soft reddish glow spilling out of thegame station room to the left is interrupted as a large, imposing figure passes in front of it. Red Shell.He has broad shoulders and thick arms. Dark shadows mask the details of his face, but his hair istrimmed close to his rectangular head. Lit half by the crimson luminescence of the room behind himand half by the white glow of the flashlight by the tires, he looks like some freakishly hulking jester.And he's charging into the room waving two pistols.Time slows down. Red Shell's head turns as he enters the room, instantly finding Ethan andAbby standing there; the last two of his competitors, conveniently waiting to be eliminated. His twohandguns begin to swing around in their direction. Where did he get two paintball guns? That's sofucking cool, Ethan catches himself thinking, immediately before Oh shit, he's going to shoot us!Ethan tenses. All he has to do is drop back, duck down behind the safety of the bunker. Abbyhasn't seen the huge gamer yet, she'll never get out of the way of his shots in time. Just a couple ofquick steps and Ethan would be rid of her, she'd be out of the tournament. Then he could worry abouthow to deal with Red Shell on his own. He slides his left foot back.That's as far as he goes. Instead, before even thinking about it, he wraps his left arm aroundAbby's waist and spins her out of the way, raising the pistol that was just pressed to her back a momentbefore. Red Shell roars, bringing his guns to bear. Ethan closes his eyes, and pulls the trigger. Once,twice. The gun is empty after that, but he continues pulling the trigger anyway.Red Shell's bestial roar turns into a howl. “Fuck!!” He screams. Ethan opens his eyes in time tosee the large brute stagger to a halt, and throw his guns to the ground in frustration. He reaches up torub his neck, and his hand comes away glistening in the dim light. He sniffs it. Just paint.“Red Shell is eliminated! Five points to Energy Tank!” Lucas screams above, unable to containhis excitement.Ethan realizes he's still pulling the trigger on his empty gun, and stops, lowering his weapon.Red Shell says nothing to him, but storms off the way he came, muttering an impressive stream ofprofanity. Ethan watches him go.When he finally remembers Abby, and turns back to his left, he finds himself staring down thebarrel of the pistol pointed right between his eyes.“'Gotcha.'” She says, mocking him.Ethan can't help but smile. He lets the empty gun fall out of his hand, and it clatters to theground at his feet. She has him dead-to-rights. It's over.Abby lowers the gun to his chest. He's grateful for that, at least; it shouldn't hurt as much. Hereyes dart away, unable or unwilling to meet his. She's nibbling on her lower lip.“Here. I'll close my eyes.” Ethan does as he promises. Moments pass, and still she doesn't fire.When he opens his eyes again, she's finally looking at him with those brown eyes the color of coffee.But the gun is spun around, with the handle outwards. He looks at it.“I don't understand.” He admits.“I... can't do it. You are Winter-een-mas. The crown is yours. Here.” She insists, pushing thegun forward.He glances back down at the pistol, hesitating a second before finally reaching out to take itfrom her. He grins as he looks down at the gun in his hand. “Thank you, Abby.” He says with a nod. Hetakes a deep breath and lets it out.In one fluid motion he sticks the barrel to his chest and pulls the trigger. He was wrong about itnot hurting as much. It feels like being punched by a hot oven poker. The splatter of yellow painttickles as it decorates the bottom of his chin and neck. He pulls the gun away and tosses it aside, asbroken bits of paintball roll off the brightly colored kill-shot on his jersey. Despite the pain, he can'thelp but laugh at the look of sheer surprise on Abby's face.Lucas apparently can't believe it either. “What?!” He yells out in disbelief over the loudspeaker.“Energy Tank eliminated! Invincibility Star is the new Queen of Winter-een-mas!” The lights begin tocome up slowly, lifting the shroud of darkness from the arena.Abby is shaking her head. “Why?!” She gasps.Ethan pauses. He was just asking himself that very same question. “Because you earned it, evenif you couldn't pull the trigger.” He smiles. “Hell, maybe because you couldn't pull the trigger. Youwere the better gamer and the better person out here today.”He hears the clatter of volunteers setting up their ladders behind him, so he turns his back to herand begins to walk away, leaving her standing there. Part of him wants to run out of the arena as fast ashe can and keep running, to get far far away before he starts to second-guess himself. But he doesn't. Itwas the right decision. He pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a smirk. “Take care of mycrown. I'll be coming for it next year.” The volunteers help him up the ladder.They cross two more rooms going up and over this way, to the outer wall of the arena. A group ofvolunteers run past, going to escort Abby out as well. A group of people are waiting as he descends thelast ladder, finally free of the tournament zone. Many of them wear volunteer shirts, others he guessesto be spectators. They cheer, clap him on the back, reach out to shake his hand, but he just pushes hisway through the small crowd. He spotted her towards the back as he climbed over the final wall, thevery sight of her putting a huge grin on his face.Lilah's smiling when he finally reaches her. He runs the last few feet, throwing his arms aroundher and lifting her up into the air. His injured shoulder screams out in protest, but he ignores it. She'slaughing, he's laughing, nothing else matters. He's not sure he's ever been quite so happy to see her.He sets her down, nearly collapsing into her arms with exhaustion. She hugs him close, and hejust wants to sleep right there for the next week. He smiles as she leans in close, as her lips brush theside of his forehead with a gentle kiss.“I'm proud of you.” She whispers.“I lost the crown.”“You gave up the crown. There's a difference. But... I thought you hated that girl?”He lets out a long sigh. “Oh she's incredibly obnoxious. But... she was the right person for thecrown this year.”As if on cue, a loud cheer erupts from the crowd behind them. Ethan turns to see Abby clearingthe top of the wall, the masses below waiting to congratulate and crown their new Queen. He looksback at his wife and smiles. “Take me home.”

New RP
Wanna join it?--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "We don't just blow bubbles..."  -- "We blow bubbles with kittens inside them." 16:27, September 20, 2011 (UTC)

Spongebob100: Am I still Invited to Roleplay:Gender Switch?

Spongebob100: I'm sorry

(bows deeply) I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I really didn't want to bug you about this since I know how it looks, but in the end I'm just an over-cautious person who has to be sure of stuff 100% So once again I'm very sorry. As for what I'm sorry for: I'm sure you're aware that Ryu called the rules on the SFW Improvement blog as official (since you were busy, I asked her to). Because of that, I thought I should suggest removing Guy from the admin nomination list. I know it looks like I'm obsessively targeting Guy or something along those lines, but I'm not. I'm just overly cautious and while I tried keeping my mouth shut so as to not give off the wrong image nor annoy you, my better-safe-than-sorry attitude overtook me. Again, I'm sorry about annoying you about this, but in the end I just thought I needed to bring this up to you. And yet again, I'm sorry Flash >~<--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 05:20, September 23, 2011 (UTC)

Okay Flash. Again, sorry. And maybe a forum would be better? Then you don't have to deal with the hassle of counting votes, and people can give comments and reasons w/ their votes. There's also the new voting process, with admins and normal users being seperately counted but equally valuable.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:40, September 24, 2011 (UTC)

Ohhh. Well then might I suggest delaying another day? Take tomorrow to refresh and relax, then make the forum/blog.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:43, September 24, 2011 (UTC)

Okay Flash, good idea.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:45, September 24, 2011 (UTC)

I'm going to bed @_@

Good night. I love you ^^ [hugs]--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 09:14, September 24, 2011 (UTC)

Please can you make me a recolor of a blast. I want it blue with red outlineing thanks SonamyLover68

Any is fine.

Can i join Gender Switch. User: Apallo The Hedgehog 22:18, September 25, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Flash. The Featured User of the Month poll needs to be updated. So close but yet so far... from the bacon 03:51, September 26, 2011 (UTC)

I'll try not to sway off the lot and i have made a new Apallo Sprite. Im working on My Charactwe sprites but most of them are recolors. User: Apallo The Hedgehog 19:12, September 26, 2011 (UTC)

I have a problem. On a roleplay called Castle in the Sky i was banned because of someone else's edit that i didnt do! What can i do!? Feeling UpSet, User: Apallo The Hedgehog 21:26, September 26, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Flash, I need to ask you to do two things for me, if you'd be willing to:
 * 1) I've resolved to not make any new pages until I finish my current ones. Could you help me do this by adding infoboxes to my character pages that need them?
 * 2) Could you vote on my administration election? Only you and Memph haven't voted, and White and Jon have voted against, while Ryu voted for. Since I need both admin and standard user majority vote, I'd like you to vote on the status as well. One more negative vote and I'm pretty much nixed. One more positive vote and it comes down to Memph. Either way, I'd like to get that much out of the way if at all possible. Also, there are a few issues on the talkpage, mainly involving Guy's issue with the 2-admin loss disbarment, and the fact that it was originally 2-3, but a few days into the voting I finalized the limit as 2. Yes yes, I realize the connotations about that limit: I explained on the talkpage (and it was also well before Guy was banned). Also, I asked about putting a neutral section, and about nominees having the opportunity to explain why they think they deserve adminship. Could you please give an answer if you aren't too busy?

Also... I realize that lately I'm asking a lot from you Flash and, I'm sorry about doing that. Really. So, I'd also like to ask if you're at all upset at me over anything lately. So... are you?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 03:41, September 27, 2011 (UTC)

(relieved sigh) Thank goodness. It's good to hear that you aren't upset at me over anything Flash. And well, I've been on a forced break for two weeks, being unable to do anything about spam pages and whatnot late at night when there doesn't seem to be any admins on. And to be quite honest, we could have up to ten additional admins on the roster, so it would be hard for me to get stressed: the main problem was due to handling the bulk of admin duties for so long. Also, I'm glad you're willing to help me out with my pages, and dealing with the whole admin disbarment thing. Guy said he was going to talk to you about the issue, but he never brought it up apparently.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 03:52, September 27, 2011 (UTC)

(Apallo: I cant edit while im sighned on only off for somer reason) http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 02:32, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

Then what can i do then? http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 02:36, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

i did and got no responce http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 03:16, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

Wanna join?--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 03:24, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

I cant edit any thing on there at all now! http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 19:29, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

dude now im getting the same messages from you! and if you can t see it i said now it wont let me edit anything at all! http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 19:34, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

I got to go to bed now. *hugs* Good night. ILU ^^--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 03:10, September 29, 2011 (UTC)

Kinetics
I don't know if you're the right person to direct this concern to, but I really think that the Kinetics page needs a revamp. I left my concerns on its talkpage if you want to look at that. Yeah... it really needs work. My function is not my purpose.  My purpose is to complete my function.   ~Xi  16:54, September 29, 2011 (UTC)

i still cant edit and i still didnt get an answer http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 22:12, September 29, 2011 (UTC)

Hey dude. =)"I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 01:01, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Flash, I thought it best I bring something up to you. Namely the articles Onyx the Leo and Saber The Leo, two sorely lacking articles. Both were created with extremely horrible grammar befitting 10 and below (I fixed the grammar on Onyx the Leo), with extremely low-quality recolors. Several people (Xi, Shima, Ryu,, Ult/Precursor, Jon, White, and myself) believe these articles are beyond redemption, and deserve only deletion. While they have Construction templates, there's a point where common sense has to take precedent: neither of these Users will be likely to bring these articles up to par anytime soon, if ever. However, Guy has gotten quite aggressive over the manner. If you look at and/or restore the talkpage for Onyx the Leo, you'll see that he acted in an aggressive manner towards all others involved, and even threatened to have me banned (how, I don't know). When Jon decided to delete the articles, Guy apparently threatened to report him (to who, I don't know. You and Ryu aren't likely to demote him for this, and Wikia Staff wouldn't get involved in something this small-scale). Guy has even gone so far as to create his own Diamant the Leo article, with a blatant low-quality recolor and lacking in construction and quality compared to other articles. This uncharacteristically low-quality article and Guy's attitude leads me to believe that Guy is purposefully making an issue out of this whole thing, and/or attempting to get a rise out of people. Could you please take care of these articles personally, and if you feel the need to do so, do something about Guy's conduct over the issue? Thank you Flash.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 01:14, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Well after Ryu messaged me about the grammar suddenly becoming as good as Guy's, I addd it up myself. Regardless of being a test, the fact that you yourself say it's trolling, and the fact that it involves sockpuppetting, I have to ask if you're going to let Guy off on this. Test or not, he was no right to do this (obviously no authorization from you, Ryu, or Memph), and is blatantly breaking policies.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 01:26, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

How have you been. Sorry I haven't been on DA in the morning that much.

Well, your pretending to be Vikus was a long time ago, before it became an issue. I was under an unjustified ban that for some reason couldn't be lifted, so I had to use an additional account. Norma made a new account in an attempt to change her username and get a fresh start. I'm sorry Flash, but even for Guy this is way too far. Sockpuppeting for one, in addition to threats against both me and Jon, and- as you said yourself- trolling. That's three offenses, from a long time User who should seriously know the limits and the rules of this wiki! You can't seriously let him off for doing something like this both to his fellow Users and the wiki itself.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 01:37, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

I'm good."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 01:42, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I would've said this if it was White, Norma, or even you. Look at my first message on this: until I found out he was an actual part of this, I only wanted you to talk to him, and even then it was only if you felt it was necessary. I just wanted someone who Guy couldn't intimidate or threaten to delete the articles, and that's all. But after finding out he was likely a part of this.... too far Flash. Even for Guy, it's too far. And look at the Elemental Tournament RP: Ryu said that Saber and Onyx's grammar "suddenly got as good as Guy's". That means he either brought those people to the wiki, or he is those people. You know me Flash: I'm not stupid enough to let someone make me so pissed I take out a vendetta against them. If I did, the ban I gave Guy for his actions towards Ryu would have been permanent. And even then I made sure to ask three other people if I should carry out the ban. A vendetta, this is not.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 01:47, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

A problem with the theory Flash: I acknowledge the fact that I fight with Guy. I do everything to avoid it now. When he threatened to have me banned, I dropped the issue like it was hot, and decided to wait until I could get you, a steadfast bureaucrat, involved in the situation. I hate fighting with Guy, because I hate what it does to the wiki and my friends. As for hunting down his friends, I'm afraid that's likely impossible. He's been on forums for 10 years Flash. Ten years. The people, friends, and forums he could have gone to are too many to count. Besides, he could have contacted via e-mail, or deleted whatever forum comment/thread he used to get help. But the fact that Guy made the Diamant article without asking, and the fact that Saber and Onyx suddenly had grammar "as good as Guy's", makes it pretty clear it can only be one of the two: either he got help, or did personally.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 02:00, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Being contacted and willingly taking part in this makes Guy just as guilty as if he was the one who thought it up (both morally and [at least in the U.S.] legally). Flash, I would like to think that Guy has some level of decency- and no, my account hasn't been hacked and I haven't hit my head- so pulling something like this is, as I said, too far. Even for Guy. That's why I said that I believe Guy should be banned for his actions, and shouldn't be let off.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 02:18, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I've been thinking about this issue of Guy being accused of Sockpuppetry, and I have to say I agree. Kagi's like the Boy Who Cried wolf, and every time he cries "Guy" and "ban" in one sentence, everyone figures it's his vandetta and turns a blind eye. But, should he prove guilty of sockpupettry or trolling or breaking any policies, why not deal with it the same way we always have: a vote? Death's Little Pony We Ride! 13:09, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah. Guy's also always going on about how only Kagi and I have a problem with his...shenanigans, this way we can see how right he is. Death's Little Pony We Ride! 13:29, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Interesting. On what grounds do you have to block me? Because of the possibility that I helped provide a picture for a bad article? Interesting, I wonder where in the policies that's stated. But to answer your question and statements, the two users who created Saber and Onyx are friends of mine from what of the roleplay forums I inhabit, hence their otherwise great roleplaying skills. Their articles are lacking because they are not familiar with how Wiki's structure and templates work, and I am in the process of teaching them. The picture for Onyx was done by me because Onyx didn't want to spend time making an MS paint edit while he was practicing his drawing skills, though Saber made his picture himself. Diamant's picture is a placeholder and a joke to fit the trio as three badly colored characters which, last I heard, was never against policies. They're in the process of having proper pictures in due time. In the mean time, unless you have any definitive grounds to threaten me, I suggest stepping away. -- Guyviroth -   I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for what I'm not..  19:51, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Rosemary is an Anti-Moebian Melissa the Hedgehog   Her enemies always fall before her!  19:59, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Input Requested
I've recently done some work on my newest character, Duke "Deuce" Zocker. I know he's currently not up to standards, but I would like to get some feedback on him, particularly on his abilities. Would you mind taking a look? Soulfyre. Be weary of it. 20:45, September 30, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I saw for myself how Saber and Onyx's grammar changed exponentially. The grammar on their character articles was atrocious, and the pictures were eyesore recolors. Yet on the Elemental Tournament RP, their grammar and roleplaying quality was as good as Guy's, and we all know how much experience Guy has with Roleplays, particularly in literary style.

Secondly, Guy has very high standards for character articles. If Onyx and Saber were serious about how they made their characters, Guy wouldn't show them the wiki at all, or even associate with them. Yet seeing how skilled they are at writing, as evidenced in the RP, then the crappy quality of their character articles was intentional. Not to mention they knew to use the Construction template; if they knew about the need for that, they would know of the other policies as well. And seeing how good their grammar really is, it should be no problem for them to write a quality article.

And there's no proof that these two are Guy's friends. They've only showed up yesterday, haven't been on at all since then, and have less than 15 edits each.--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 05:50, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Yo.

Sorry Flash, but your girlfriend had to hit the hay, so she asked me to carry on the discussion with you. While I did speak to Ryu on this matter on my chat (See for yourself; some of the comments are gone though >~<), she reached the same conclusion that I (and if I remember correctly, White) came to: Guy is totally bulls**tting you. I asked Ryu to explain the situation to you instead, since she reached the same conclusion as myself on her own, and unlike me or White, you don't believe she has a vendetta against Guy. Regardless of who says it, you can look at the evidence yourself: I mean seriously Flash, look at this! How can that drastic change in grammar and articulate capability not be suspicious?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:07, October 1, 2011 (UTC)
 * Onyx the Leo
 * Talk:Onyx the Leo (Needs to be restored)
 * Saber The Leo
 * Roleplay:Elemental Tournament

I'm sorry you had to be the one who had to carry out the ban, Flash. I know you truly want peace and cohabitation, and wanted to see the best in Guy, but... what's happened, has happened. I can assure though that if Guy decides to harass you on another site, I will do everything I can to assist and defend you. He especially better not take this to SNN: if he does, tell me and I'll make him stop in his tracks. You did what you had to do as an admin and bureaucrat: you put aside your personal opinions and carried out a neutral and unbiased punishment. All I ask of you now are two things Flash: don't let Guy harass or manipulate you into going back on your decision. Second, don't forget that you have people who love and care about you, like Ryu and myself, and let your friends help and support you. Okay, Will?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:10, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

(pats you on the back) I get it Flash. Believe me, I know how bad it can be dealing with admin responsibilities while stressed. I of all people should be able to understand that, shouldn't I? ;P--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:15, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Heh, ouch. Well Flash, I suggest that you ignore the situation from this point on and take care of yourself. If Guy tries to contact you, just ignore him and leave it to the rest of us. You're a crat Flash, but you don't carry the weight of the wiki alone on your back. Remember that, capishe?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:19, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

(chuckles) It's alright. "Laughter is the best medicine" after all.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:24, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

You need some funny then!! Read!!--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:29, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

It at least made you laugh, so that's something. Just don't let this or future issues get to you, and take care of yourself. Ya hear?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:54, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Good. Have some faith in your fellow admins and crats (and me XP). I can say for certain that at least one admin will make sure Guy doesn't worm his way out of his ban.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 08:07, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, toss aside that "hope", because I know so.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 08:12, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, trust White. Trust Ryu. They won't let Guy off for what he did. And trust me to make sure neither of them nor Jon or Memph do so ;P--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 08:18, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

.....(tilts head) When did I quote Star Wars?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 08:24, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

ok 2 things 1 I need help spriting some clothes on MS Paint and 2 how do you make the graph like you did for Disornia just now? http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 08:27, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

.....Dude I've never once watched a whole Star Wars movie, so I didn't even know that line existed.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 08:31, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

I need you to sprite me two pics. One with this pic or Silver being Controlled by Jr. but with cybernetic attachments. (reed the rolepley to know where im commiong from) and a new sprite of Apallo Becuase the one i have looks like crap.http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 08:41, October 1, 2011 (UTC) and you can teach me how to do some clothes

XD Sorry. But that is a good quote. Anyways, I'm going to hit the sack myself in about 10 or 20 minutes. So just to make sure I've drilled it into your skull enough, leave the aftermath of the issue with Guy to me and the others, and don't let him rile you up or manipulate you into letting him out of the ban. You had to deal the ban despite your personal beliefs over the matter, so you shouldn't have to deal with the rest of it.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 08:46, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Hi
Well hi dere Flashfire. How's it going? Nefereti 12:09, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

It's meh for me. I've only just woken up and there's a heatwave ._. Just at the start of autumn, I was looking forward to getting a cold breeze. I needs updates on everything, who all the admins and bureacrafts are, rules and if people I was close to were banned. :/ Said so in a blog, now just waiting...

Btw, your birthday is one day before mine! Nefereti 12:41, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Guy? Ooh, ouch ._. He was a close friend... but nevermind, I won't get involved with things like that; I'll get in trouble. And, I'd prefer cold cus at least you can warm yourself up. Easier to warm up then cool down for me XP And I'll put my votes in the election. I,myself, wanted to be an admin, but right now I guess isn't the appropriate time. Nefereti 12:56, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Are you serious? That's epic! I planned on making my own fanfic, but I never had the time to. I haven't caught up with it yet; not much time to watch the rest. I'm Blue Team, always have been, always will XP Nefereti 13:07, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Ah Grif. Him and Simmons are the only Reds I like XP Realistically, I would be on Blue team, but I'd prefer to be freelancer. Tex is my favourite of them all XP Nefereti 13:16, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

I heard you have a cold. Even though I don't know you much, hope you get better. Pinkolol16, I love Sonic...  I'm a Proud Sonic Fan   -Who loves Sonic to bits  13:18, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah because i want Silver to look Likr Baby Vegeta. http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 17:16, October 1, 2011 (UTC)

Heyyo."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 00:35, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

I made a petition page. Because i was treated unfaily http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 00:46, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Search the Wiki for teh Petition Pagehttp&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 00:55, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, Memph wants to talk to you tomorrow about Guy's ban. You see.... you told me you were sick and emotionally fragile at the moment. Add that to all the pressure you've been getting on both sides.... I thought all of those factors put together might affect your judgment of the situation. I know full-well how several stressors building up can severely affect how a person behaves and handles stuff (prime example: YOURS TRULY!!). So, while I know you may find this dubious at best, I told Memph, a 100% neutral third party who had not yet been involved in the situation, about the whole thing. I told him to read over all the evidence you were given, and the reasons why Guy's ban is legit. I will admit, the sockpuppeting is actually not true. I spoke to Onyx personally, and to be quite frank he's way too different from Guy. But there are additional, non-coincidental incidents. Back on track, here's exactly what I asked Memph to do: read the evidence, and make a decision. If he agreed with you, then leave it as-is. If he disagreed and decided to reinstate the ban, I asked him to talk to you so he could take the issue off your hands. In the end, Memph decided he needed to hear your reasons for unbanning Guy before he made a final decision himself, and decided to reinstate the ban until he spoke with you about the situation. I realize you may dislike what occured and the course of action I took, but given your current state and current stress-level, I thought asking Memph to go over the evidence himself and give some input would be a good idea. I apologize for doing this while you're already stressed and dealing with plenty of stuff right now, I truly do. But the fact that you're dealing with so much stuff is why I asked Memph to take part. You're sick, you're stressed, and you're feeling lousy, so dealing with this totally on your own really isn't helping you. Again Flash, I'm truly truly sorry about doing this, and I really hope you don't hold it against me or get angry. And sorry about not telling you about this before: my thick head caused me to think maybe Memphis told you already when he didn't, or it would be fine until you get on tomorrow. But then I saw that Guy brought it up to you on SNN, so I thought I should explain to you before you get pissed, or before Guy bites at you. And on that subject: could you please avoid taking SFW issues to SNN? Neither Gen nor myself want this wiki's issues getting onto or affecting Sonic News Network. So, could you and Guy take future discussions to someplace like DA or Xat? Again, REALLY REALLY sorry for doing all of this to you Flash ;~;--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:14, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I saw that you're online... you aren't mad at me or anything, are you...?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 10:02, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Eheh, I was just about to go offline and go to sleep. I was closing down tabs, but before I closed the one with SNN on it (I still like to sometimes check in on SNN, even though it doesn't need me like SFW does), I decided to refresh for a last check on whether or not I needed to do something. I refreshed, and lo and behold, I saw the comments exchanged between you and Guy.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 10:07, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah. I stayed up partly to catch InuYasha (either stay up till 2:30am, or try and catch it at 5:30am; I sleep in till noon on the weekends, so I'll stay up later thank you), and partly to make sure that I caught your response and you weren't pissed at me.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 10:11, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

I just stay up ridiculously late and sleep in until past noon. Anyways, I'm sorry I went to Memphis about this Flash. I just thought it would be best for a third party not suffering from a cold and burdened by the entire issue to get involved. Again, sorry; just doing what I thought was best...--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 10:22, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Alright. But I think you should explain your own reasons for undoing the ban to Memphis, so he can get more of the story. Admittedly, I'd like to know as well: Guy wasn't sockpuppeting, but he lead those two to the wiki and allowed them to troll the wiki, being completely negligent about explaining policies about behavior to these people. There was also his vicious defense of the articles that even went so far as to insult other Users, threaten me, then threaten Jon when he deleted the articles. Even without sockpuppeting on the list, that's a good few offenses. Particularly for a long-time User and ex-admin who should know better.

....Come to think of it Flash, could you just explain on my talkpage? Then I can link it to Memph, save you two the trouble of dealing with differing timezones and schedules, give Memph his explanation, then prevent you from having to repeat yourself and continue dealing with this whole mess.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 10:32, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

I can't fit anymore manga on my bookshelves anymore! :D I have 5 Dragon Ball Z books and like 55 Naruto books. Do you read manga? Or just watch the anime? <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  16:10, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Well the context of the articles is also quite different. The "more laughable" part of the wiki is made up of people who earnestly work on their articles, just not getting the best results. They don't make articles with poorly made recolors and grammar not befitting a ten-year-old on purpose. As I said, I talked to Onyx: while later in the conversation he showed an actual willingness to help the wiki improve, in the beginning he called the whole wiki a joke, and insulted characters on this wiki. My point is that Guy was totally negligent in this situation: it was clear his friends were trolling, and as the person who brought them here he should have stopped them and explained it was wrong. But he didn't: instead, he encouraged it, and insulted and threatened those who wanted to get rid of the articles. But well, that's my POV.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 18:23, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Okay Flash, Memph made his decision: he decided that while Guy didn't sockpuppet, he DID take part in the trolling, which is a serious offense. Especially for a long-time User and ex-admin. So the ban stays. Memph doesn't intend to change his mind, and I know you'll respect his decision. So, I just have this to say: just say the word, and as an SNN admin I will make Guy leave you alone. It wasn't your decision to reinstate the ban, so you shouldn't have to deal with his hate. So if you don't want him harassing you, I'll make sure he doesn't.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 21:31, October 2, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, could you come onto my Xat? White wants to talk to you. But ATM, he doesn't really wanna be on SFW.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 02:27, October 3, 2011 (UTC)

Hey, wanna continue our RP on DA?"I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 02:52, October 3, 2011 (UTC)

Cool."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 02:54, October 3, 2011 (UTC)

Flash? Back on chat?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 04:47, October 3, 2011 (UTC)

yeah we get it

alirght alright besides it was mistake no ones perfect

let's just drop it i take the blame

kay

Herro, I is at college naow. Just wanted to say I love you ^^ <3

Also, did you see Toxic's talkpage recently?--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 11:55, October 4, 2011 (UTC)

Cool, and I just got two more manga books yesterday, and now my bookshelf is creaking! I had to move half of them to the floor until I find a place to put them all. Well, see ya! <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  19:49, October 4, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, get on my chat the instant you get online and get this message. I have something you'll want to hear. Whether or not you'll believe it... that's something else.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 02:04, October 5, 2011 (UTC)

Guyvirth told me to tell you my problem. Last week end on friday a chat moderator names Shernathehedgehog (or something) was harrassing me when i was talking to a friend about what happened to me earlier that day only because she was pissed off at me for no resion (i think she cursed me out too). (I do not remember what she did but to get a possible better story ask Markakramgirgis (the other user who is kinda new here that also has a problem with the moderator) and then (around the same time later that night or the next night ask Mark) she banned my friend Bluray Orgionals only because he was annoying her (him?) but Bluray was only talking (get the story from Bluray himself) or something but he wasent doing anything to the moderater. but befor that she was cursing and twunting that she/he doesent have to follow the rules and stuff. Then i accidently pasted the word Bitch after she banned Bluray on the chat un cencered by accident and forgot to say so before i closed out the chat page without looking at what i put then i went back on and then she banned me. I know it sounds like what i did was wrong but if i were to say it was an accident then she (he?) wont even care. I dont think they like me at all. but this shows that this Chat Moderator is abousing thier powers and being powercrazy. Pleas talk to Markakramgirgis, and Bluray Orgionals about it thank you. http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 19:16, October 5, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah, sorry for the short notice. But, I'd like my adminship removed. If you need to know why, check here. I'm not as depressed...actually, Memph's reveal made me feel alot better, but I'm still not interested in staying here anymore. So, please remove my adminship, seeing as Ryu and Memph both refused. -_- Death's Little Pony We Ride! 00:17, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

i might have gotten the name wronghttp&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 03:39, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

I g2g to bed now. G'night, Will, ILU <3 [hugs]--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 03:46, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

So, whats up?"I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 03:51, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

Cool. I see your still on DA."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 03:57, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

Didn't know. Sorry."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 04:02, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

'Kay. Your turn, BTW. =)"I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 04:08, October 6, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, chat? Wanna chat (of course) and ask you a question. Nothin big though.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:03, October 7, 2011 (UTC)

Any is fine SonamyLover68

Hey, I know it's already a little ways in, but could I maybe get in on Gender Switch? It's been interesting me for a while, and I left a message on the talkpage to join, but got no response. What do you say? My function is not my purpose.  My purpose is to complete my function.   ~Xi  01:56, October 11, 2011 (UTC)

Relieved
ah,god,yes! now I don't have to be alone on here*shudder*I hate absolute silence

hehe,that's okay.It's about 5 a.m. where I'm at^^

'Eyyo."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 14:37, October 12, 2011 (UTC)

Hey flash, thanks for approving my idea of a court trial I can't wait to use wright in a case for once, but anyways I plan either making a prosociter, or getting church (an rvb character who technically works for G.U.N but affiliated with blue team, unless you want kp to have his prosecutor character, or you have an idea yourself, only factor I need in it is he must toss coffee at wright's head. ^^; it won't matter much though, but I appreciate you for liking my idea. Tails  6000  (<font color="Black">Feel the power, of <font color="Gold">TOASTY! ) 15:50, October 12, 2011 (UTC)

I g2g to bed now. *hugs* Nigh, Will. I love you ^^

And maybe, sometime we can set up a TP that shows HOW Toxic got his fear of Beheeyem >=3--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 04:59, October 13, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Flash, think we could TP/RP, and/or go on chat? Helluva bored guy right here.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:03, October 13, 2011 (UTC)

Spongebob100: Excuse me, but User:420 smoke weed negro philosopher is ruining the pages of everyone, you gotta stop him before he causes too much damage

Spongebob100: Ohhhhh, sorry about that, but I stopped him for you & the other Users

Spongebob100: Your welcome, cause that's what friends are for, they help each other

Spongebob100: Ok, thanks

Wanna cntinue our RP on DA? If your busy it's okay.

I made sonic versions of the characters if I remember, but good point, but yeah I could also get SARGE to do it, he was in the agricultural courts from what he said in season 4, :P but yeah I'll try to ask kags to see if we can use status for a military prosecutor. It'd be interesting too... Just hope he can throw coffee at wright's face. :P Tails  6000  (<font color="Black">Feel the power, of <font color="Gold">TOASTY! ) 15:42, October 13, 2011 (UTC)

I left a little while after leaving that message, so I didn't see any Trolls.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 16:56, October 13, 2011 (UTC)

New wikia system?
Did they change the wikia's system? I can't click the talk page button in the edit history page of a page. <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  19:51, October 13, 2011 (UTC)

Ah yes, the joy of banning Trolls from the wiki. If you aren't careful you forget just how enjoyable it really is.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:43, October 14, 2011 (UTC)

but my real question is.. who REALLY did the crime? if you have a character who actually did it to frame toxic let me know. or ask kagi if he has an idea. Tails 6000  (<font color="Black">Feel the power, of <font color="Gold">TOASTY! ) 11:35, October 14, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Will, come onto xat--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 06:00, October 15, 2011 (UTC)

May I please join the Gender Switch Roleplay?Sonicman667 13:29, October 15, 2011 (UTC)Sonicman667

Ok, well either I'm remembering wrong (which happens alot!) or they remodled some of the wiki. I'm pretty sure they remodled it though. See Ya! <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  04:55, October 16, 2011 (UTC)

what do you mean? DO you only accept people that do the fanfiction like sort of roleplaying? Or do you allow people that do the script kind of rolepalying as well?Sonicman667 15:16, October 16, 2011 (UTC)Sonicman667

Yeah, that sounds like it could be pretty agrivating. <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  18:16, October 16, 2011 (UTC)

I can keep the storyline going on topic and I won't insert my character into every scene. As long as i can have Wen and Soach the Chao in the rpSonicman667 21:09, October 21, 2011 (UTC)Sonicman667

Thank you for allowing me to be in your roleplay. Sonicman667 00:14, October 22, 2011 (UTC)Sonicman667

Hey Flash, would you mind getting me caught up for Gender Switch? I want to finally get in on it, but I'm not too keen on all that reading. ^^; My function is not my purpose.   My purpose is to complete my function.   ~Xi  00:56, October 22, 2011 (UTC)

Alright, thanks. What would be an appropriate time for me to come in? My function is not my purpose.  My purpose is to complete my function.   ~Xi  01:08, October 22, 2011 (UTC)

Here, here, and here please?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:47, October 24, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I need something that will allow me to vent off large amounts of anger without breaking something, now. Please tell me you know of something that will help...--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:35, October 26, 2011 (UTC)

Wonderful... and FYI, caffeine is actually bad for you: it causes the body to urinate more often, thus removing water from the body. Much-needed water, required for every function in the body from moving blood to breaking down nutrients.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:42, October 26, 2011 (UTC)

Kay. But still, this is just... wonderful..... -_-#--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 06:48, October 26, 2011 (UTC)

Thank you for fixing up my page. Kakariko Fried Cucco 10:26, October 28, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah, but I've only started to make sprites in the past three months. Your avatar sprite is one of the best I've ever seen. Kakariko Fried Cucco 10:30, October 28, 2011 (UTC)

OK then, I will. And I'll talk to you later if you want to, cause I've gotta go. Kakariko Fried Cucco 10:35, October 28, 2011 (UTC) (p.s that sprite you saw on the Cosmic the Hedgehog page, wasn't my best work, in my thought.)

Question
I just had 1 small question, and yes this revolves around my idea to use wright and his lawyer like powers... what KIND of crime can we frame toxic for? (besides the obvious :/ I was thinking...murder..or stealing) Tails  6000  (<font color="Black">Feel the power, of <font color="Gold">TOASTY! ) 23:25, November 1, 2011 (UTC)

Could you block this wikia contributor? He deleted my whole article and spammed it. He might be dangerous. Juely 15:15, November 6, 2011 (UTC)

Hey, I don't mean to be a bother, but could you maybe continue Gender Switch? I was really looking forward to getting into it, and now it's a little upsetting that it's stopped moving. My function is not my purpose.  My purpose is to complete my function.   ~Xi  01:13, November 7, 2011 (UTC)

Um, from the Character Adoption, can I adopt Hershey the Rat please? Mephiles the Werewolf I am the shadow of the moon at night  00:10, November 8, 2011 (UTC)

Its on the talk page. Mephiles the Werewolf I am the shadow of the moon at night  01:14, November 8, 2011 (UTC)

Pre-emptive Explanation
I see that Guy has contacted you on SNN, and I would like to explain so as to clear up the situation post-haste.

You see, Guy created a blog so as to nominate himself as a replacement admin. This is despite of the fact that he knew that as per policy, he was barred from adminship (there was a memory lapse for me and Guy as to the limitation: bans or admin revocation, but in the end same cause and effect). I explained this to him and deleted the blog due to its redundancy, policy violation, and due to the trouble it could cause. Despite being given warnings after each deletion, he continued to recreate the blog a total of three times. Because he continued to do this despite warnings, I gave him a ban of 134 days: 4 months, 2 weeks. I spoke to Memph every step of the way on my chat: the two bans (like I said, forgot that admin revocation counts, not bans) were just and legitimate. I asked permission to delete the blog, and Memph allowed it. When I asked if a ban was in order for Guy's continued recreation of the blog, he allowed a blog within the 3-to-6 month ban, which I gave.

As you can see, every step was official, legitimate, and carried out with a crat's approval and consent.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 23:57, November 8, 2011 (UTC)

EDIT: Guy has had adminship and been demoted twice. He was given it to combat Evilagram (or after), then lost it due to his behavior towards other Users. After assisting in revamping the front page, Gen gave him adminship once again, which you yourself later removed.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 00:00, November 9, 2011 (UTC)

Remember the admin election issue? He brought up the two-to-three issue after I revised it to two (because gaining and losing adminship three times is impractical), and you deemed the policy still in-effect. I lost my adminship under similar circumstances, but it still counts for me: if I lose it again, I can't be admin again. You also revoked it due to his behavior the second time after almost banning him, remember? The retirement was forced and due to policy violations, so it likewise counts to his total. This was not up for debate nor an issue until now.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 00:04, November 9, 2011 (UTC)

Oh my darling Kagi, so wrong as usual. Allow me to clear things up. The two times Ryuu removed my adminship was when I took a break from SFW a couple of times, that much is certain; pretty much the case of "retirement" rather than "demotion". Now the time Gen removed my adminship was, yes, during the Purge I believe, around that time. I asked Gen to remove it after I was done with whatever it was we were doing, but then I saw the pages come back again. That was when I was re-administered for the final time. Now as that stands, only one of my "demotions" constitutes towards policy standards. -- Guyviroth -   What I've felt, what I've known, sick and tired I stand alone.  13:55, November 10, 2011 (UTC)

Excuse me sir, But something strange happend to me, That posted thing called The Daily Life Of Snow i never made it, I was away from my PC, I do not know if someone touched my PC and did something while i was gone But i do not think anyone did, I posted this message so you would know to remove that because it's useless and i never made it, Just saying what happend...If you have any questions, Then feel free to ask

Hey! You just deleated Tabitha the Cat! Fix her right now or I'll block you!

Before you make the fatal mistake of threaten both a bureaucrat and my boyfriend, I'll tell you WHY Tabitha was deleted.

Said article of "Tabitha the Cat", despite having a Construction template on it, had not been greatly improved upon for a considerable amount of time.

In short, do moar work on it instead of just slapping on a list of the character's friends and foes. If you're really that worried, move it to your userspace; that's what I'm doing with all of my Elemental Clans characters. Lord knows that with 'crat duties and (mostly) college, I'd never get them all up to snuff in time. In fact, a great percentage of my characters are in my userspace.

If you don't know how to move articles to userspace, just let me know and I can do it for you.--<font style="Matisse ITC">  ~I am the Holder of Om Nom Nom!~  "OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!" 13:40, November 10, 2011 (UTC)

Hi Flash, how are you doing? Kakariko Fried Cucco-GET TO DAH CHOPPER!!! 10:43, November 11, 2011 (UTC)

Very good thank you, with my birthday and all, and I took your suggestion and looked at BloodSonic1's sprites, they are amazing, but then again, yours are pretty good too. I also think technique is coming along. Slowly, I might add. Kakariko Fried Cucco-GET TO DAH CHOPPER!!! 10:48, November 11, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah, if you want to look at my latest work, just look here, it's not without it's faults, but it is a step in the right direction. Oh, and I liked the way you cleaned up that 'Lightning Armor' page, it really needed it. Kakariko Fried Cucco-GET TO DAH CHOPPER!!! 10:54, November 11, 2011 (UTC)

Could you provide a link to the fan-fic? I would really like to look at it. Kakariko Fried Cucco-GET TO DAH CHOPPER!!! 10:58, November 11, 2011 (UTC)

I'll have to look at it tomorrow, as I have to go off to bed now. But I am looking forward to reading it. I'll tell you what I think about it tomorrow. And I talk to you later. Kakariko Fried Cucco-GET TO DAH CHOPPER!!! 11:03, November 11, 2011 (UTC)

Hi Flash, sorry to say but this person, 95.8.202.3, vandalised your, 'Will the Echidna' page. I undid the damage for you. Kakariko Fried Cucco- I don't live in KFC....Do you? 07:16, November 12, 2011 (UTC)

OK then. Kakariko Fried Cucco- I don't live in KFC....Do you? 08:46, November 12, 2011 (UTC)

Hey Will."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 02:05, November 13, 2011 (UTC)

What are you upto?"I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 02:21, November 13, 2011 (UTC)

Trying to download DC Universe and probably that I have to stop cuase I have to go to bed soon."I watch you from nowhere, You see nothing but mystery, "I hide in plain sight. The General of the Greatest Uknown Army, never to be known but known by all." 03:16, November 13, 2011 (UTC)

I'm not sure if this something to report, but user Sonicfan919 has been placing the category tag Recolors on pages without the creator's permission. Some of which, are not even recolours.... Hope and despair...  always balance out to zero...  00:06, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

X:113 said I had permission to do it and the picture on Will's page was a recolor until you changed it. ......... 00:16, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

Dude he was a blue Knuckles with a jacket that counts as a recolor. *Sigh*Ever since I ran for adminship everyone's been treating me like I'm some kind of psyco idiot. ......... 00:24, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

For the record, I didn't give Sonicfan permission to do anything. He added the category to four of Aly Parris's characters, all of whom were recolours, and she complained about it. I simply told her that he was allowed to do that. My function is not my purpose.  My purpose is to complete my function.   ~Xi  00:24, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, I'm not an admin. ......... 00:27, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

He looked exactly like Knuckles sure he's blue and has clothes but does that make his appearance original? No. Oh, and complaints like what. People crying because I gave people a two-month old page warning then slapped a deletion tag on it? ......... 00:34, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

You never heard my story of the events. When hearing complaints remember that.

Also atleast I don't recolor my characters from Sonic X.

Lastly, look at BloodSonic's picture (not the sprite though that's pretty bad too) it's just a red and blue Sonic with black eye sockets. ......... 00:44, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

Ban me for what? Trying to improve this wiki? I'm doing something most of the people here fail to do. Even if you do call me a troll and everyone hates me atleast I'm not just sitting here trashing the wiki. I mean look at this place! It's a dump and your going to ban someone who's actually trying to HELP the wiki HELP it that doesn't make any sense whats-so-ever. ......... 00:55, November 14, 2011 (UTC)

Hey, Flash! I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but some of the chapters of your Trilogy don't meet some of SFW's standards! It's a trivial thing they're missing, but with out it, I'm afraid I must go and mark all of the ones that don't cut it with the PageWarning template.

Please, go though and add some categories to the chapters or they might wind up deleted!

Vi'ti myvyr bu  tirth set dalton.  21:16, November 15, 2011 (UTC)

Hello, need a decision
I need you view on me being an admin based on the votes I've recieved on my blog. I have 18 supporters and only 5 rejections so, I'd like to have your decision along with Ryu's and Memphis -- Guyviroth -   Everyday I'm Sufferin'.  22:41, November 15, 2011 (UTC)

Heyya Flash. Feel like chattin?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:17, November 16, 2011 (UTC)

Alrighty then. ATM it's just me and Hika, so while I'm waiting for DCUO to download some new updates, I'm a tad bored. It suuuuuuucks living on the Pacific coast when most of your friends live on the East. At this time I'm...... FOREVER ALONE!!--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:23, November 16, 2011 (UTC)

I occasionally see you on around 1-2pm my time. Can't be that bad.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:34, November 16, 2011 (UTC)

Ahhh, I see.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 07:41, November 16, 2011 (UTC)

W-why did you delete Cyclone's page? What was wrong with it? <font color="Firebrick">I am Zero- <font color="Black">-the Hidden Path 23:54, November 18, 2011 (UTC)

What kind of policy violations? I would have corrected them earlier, but I was never informed that it violated any policies. <font color="Firebrick">I am Zero- <font color="Black">-the Hidden Path 01:34, November 19, 2011 (UTC)

I see. Thanks for giving me some answers, at least. <font color="Firebrick">I am Zero- <font color="Black">-the Hidden Path 01:38, November 19, 2011 (UTC)

That's alright, I'll just have to be more careful with my pages next time. <font color="Firebrick">I am Zero- <font color="Black">-the Hidden Path 01:44, November 19, 2011 (UTC)

Yo. Memph said to come to you about promoting me to adminship due to majority vote on my blog. -- Guyviroth -   Everyday I'm Sufferin'.  14:12, November 22, 2011 (UTC)

Troll
Please ban User:MidnightTH if he hasn't already, as he's been messing with other peoples pages without their consent. Vi'ti myvyr bu  tirth set dalton.  23:46, November 22, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, could you restore the pairing pages? There's just a little drama, that's all.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 00:42, November 24, 2011 (UTC)

Adoption page
On the character adoption page, in the "adopted by" part of the page it says Sprinkle the Hedgehog (Me, not the character) at one part of the page and SprinkleTH at another. I checked it out and there is no SprinkleTH so was it reffering to me? I'm asking you because you run that page (You do, right? Lolz :P). I remember adopting Hanza, but I totally forget if I adopted Tyke or not. I'll review over the talk page because I think I might have asked before I made an account and got him after I got one. I just don't want to fix anything yet so I don't mess up the page. <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  19:44, November 28, 2011 (UTC)

Just checked, and yes I in fact did adopt Tyke. May I change it or will you? (I want to keep Tyke and Hanza, they just need combined into one section.) <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  19:50, November 28, 2011 (UTC)

P.S. Please save it under Sprinkle the Hedgehog, not SprinkleTH. Thank You! <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  01:01, November 29, 2011 (UTC)

Yeah I know, I just didn't want any confusion since some people actually have TH in there username instead of The Hedgehog. Thanks for your help! :D <font color="Orange">DBZ  for the  <font color="Orange">Win!!!  03:01, November 30, 2011 (UTC)

Flash, can you get on Xat so I can talk to you really quick please?--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 23:34, December 5, 2011 (UTC)

Hewwo =3

I'm speaking from the college--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "Pack up your things, honey.   The house belongs to the crab now."   12:52, December 6, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC">Okay, ttyl! Love you <3 *hugs*--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "Pack up your things, honey.   The house belongs to the crab now."   12:56, December 6, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">New RP C:--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "Pack up your things, honey.   The house belongs to the crab now."   01:35, December 8, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">VOOOOOOOOOOOTE--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "Pack up your things, honey.   The house belongs to the crab now."   02:44, December 8, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Do u like my new Apallo Sprite and can u help me a lil on something? http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 05:25, December 16, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">like make your version of my sprite or mke a sprite sheet http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 11:55, December 16, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Thanks My Man. Dont let me down. http&#58;//sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_talk:Apallo_The_Hedgehog 16:27, December 16, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Hey Flash. Need you to reply on NU.--<font color="#0000FF">Kagi <font color="#FF0000">mizu -<font color="#008000">Seeya <font color="#FFA500">'round 04:36, December 21, 2011 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Hello, Flash. Watashi ha saigo no ejji, omega desu! 10:44, January 1, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">So, how are you doing? Watashi ha saigo no ejji, omega desu! 10:53, January 1, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Haven't had homework since week 8 of school, which was a while ago. Oh yeah, we where talking about Skype in my old account (KFC), so I was wondering if we were gonna do that or something? Also, keep up the good work with your fan-fic (Book 4), that's some quality writing. Watashi ha saigo no ejji, omega desu! 10:59, January 1, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">I didn't really expect a reply this quick, but anyway, I would prefer it if you used the guy at the bottom of my userpage (the sprite), and Incitus the Hedgehog, I'll most probably have a referance page for you soon. Thanks again. Watashi ha saigo no ejji, omega desu! 07:13, January 14, 2012 (UTC) <font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">

I'm working on Incitus page right now as I speak/ type, I'll leave abilities and a skeleton of a back ground until I can fully complete his page.The other guy is still needing a name as I made his sprite today, but I have had a few good ideas from a few people. Watashi ha saigo no ejji, omega desu! 07:23, January 14, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Art theif!--> User:Mtailsprower ~Meow,Nyaaan=3 03:40, January 15, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Indeed. (also I'm posting on your talkpage instead of the IP's because I'm getting a weird bug where the last message posted on a user's talkpage shows up in recent history, but disappears in the actual editing window.)--<font style="Matisse ITC">  "Pack up your things, honey.   The house belongs to the crab now."   01:57, January 16, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Ah, alright. One block extension and equal-length ban on IP, coming up! Sir Flare,  Knight of  <font color="#1560BD">The Flaming Sword  01:59, January 16, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Hey Flash, I was wondering if you wanted a character you have in this story I'm making called Rise of the Dragonborn as the same character, but they would be named something different like for example, like, if you had a character by the name of Aqua the Fox, well but in the story she/he would need to change name, and what team, for instance the empire, or the rebels, and would the character be a thief, or a warrior, or a mage, that all up to you, if you want a character in the story.  Link  The Hero of Winds  06:53, January 16, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">ok, do you want to make a alternate version of him to suit the type of area? or do you want to make it Flare?  Link  The Hero of Winds  07:12, January 16, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">ok, so his name would still be Flare? final question, then I'll add him to the page.  Link  The Hero of Winds  07:21, January 16, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">alright, so I'll add him to the page. Tarriss the Wolf  Link  The Hero of Winds  09:07, January 16, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Hey, I've been, for a long time, a reader of the wiki. I have not, however, been able to make an account. <font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">I look on my friend, Pinkolol16, and I saw a little while ago, you blocked the IP address of someone named Cameron. Well, I looked at my friend(Pink) and Cam still evaded her block by making another account. <font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">User:Gurblgirl6586 is Cameron. <font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Block her again. She has to learn her lesson, because my friend was confused when she saw the account. Nobody should evade their block so much. 58.178.252.169 01:27, January 17, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Cam's sockpuppeting again... User:BigTimeGirl69(no link). I'm getting sick of it, since she should learn to take a ban when a ban is put up. Pinkolol16 <font color="MediumPurple">A Sonic fan who cares  17:00, January 21, 2012 (UTC)

<font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC"><font style="Matisse ITC">Excuse me, but I pretty sure Cameron is sockpuppeting as BigTimeGirl69. BlurayOriginals 17:02, January 21, 2012 (UTC)

Hey can you check to see If Icehearts page is up to policy spec?Jaredthefox92 20:49, January 26, 2012 (UTC)Jaredthefox92

What is the meaning of this! my Charecter Gicandices page meets ALL of the requirements to be able to bee on this site!

http://sonicfanon.wikia.com/wiki/Gicandice_the_cat

I have multiple catagories, headers, paragraphs and images! (she even has a link to here Devientart group which has 90 people!) I came here on this site to share my charecter and now you want to take her down off of it?!?