So, how about those card reveals? Assuming I reach the point where's there's a decent villain, I think I know what deck I want them to be on.
x X x X x
Anastasia Agni
You hastily scribble down your name, more concerned with the other six people already in the arena. If you can recognise anyone here who you've faced before, on such an important day, you doubt anyone would be willing to experiment. They're almost certainly on whatever they were when you last saw them.
Frankly, if anything, the sight of your likely opponents starts to calm you. It hadn't exactly clicked, but most of your most difficult opponents have been significantly older than you. You don't immediately sense anyone who you don't think you could beat. Two boys with black hair you only vaguely recognise are chatting with each other, one tall and lanky, the other shorter but stocky (
one of them was the Ekibyo Drakmord guy, right?). You don't recognise the next person; a boy with messy brown hair. Roger from Southside is here; a burly, surly brunette, whose deck revolves around tribute monsters (
Zaborg the Thunder Monarch is his crown jewel). You've only duelled him once, but you beat him pretty convincingly.
Then, you lock eyes with someone you'd hoped to avoid today. Though, given the screening process, you suppose this was inevitable.
Mason's eyes are wide with shock, but his mouth can't quite decide what expression to settle on; anger or fear. He must not have been expecting you. Given you know you live rent free inside his head, that can only mean he already knew of what happened to you. Naturally, you suppose. It was his classmates who did it. Was he involved? Mmm, maybe, but you doubt it. Not directly, at least. Not unless he's finally given up on the narrative that
you were the one who betrayed
him, by not joining Victory Academy, by speaking the truth to his 'sensei'. He still holds to that. Being made an accessory to active sabotage? No, you can imagine how it went. He probably didn't know anything after the fact. It's not like the academy has ever forgotten or forgiven your disrespect.
A moment passes, as you both stare each other down.
He blinks first, and turns his attention back to the cards in his hands, trying not to look at you. You consider going over to talk to him, but—
"Well, well, well, if it Little Miss Sludgefingers herself. If I were you, I wouldn't have left my house until all the big scary duelists were gone, but then you never
were very smart."
Right. There's a sixth person here. A short, blonde kid (
and though he's actually slightly older than you, in your mind, he will always be 'kid', 'child' and 'brat') with an impressively nasally voice. District five hundred's very own gremlin.
While you know exactly what Mason must be thinking, you have never understood Rudy. How he can act like he does, when the facts are what they are. When what he purports to be reality is so clearly and transparently self-serving. You
have lost to him before. A handful of times, in fact. But with the way he always talks, you'd think he regularly washed, when he doesn't even have a winning record. You suppose he does, if you subscribe to his logic and take out all the duels that 'don't count'. Which is literally every duel he's lost against you, according to him. And conveniently doesn't include the duels where your deck was up to half back-up cards on account of sludging.
'Sludgefingers'.
It used to get a rise out of you. Not because of your issues with keeping your collection safe, but because he acts like you use it as an
excuse.
'Oh, isn't it convenient that every time you lose, it's because your deck's been sludged.'
It doesn't matter any more. Especially not today.
More than anything, the surprising part is that he's trying this
now. Usually he wouldn't even dare approaching you without the odds stacked in his favour, so you're not sure why—Ah, right. Of course he knows about what happened as well.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
You begin to move forward, towards the edge of the arena, but he moves to intercept you.
"Uh-uh-uh, you think you can waltz in here with a deck full of garbage? How about you just turn around and go straight back out that door, so the
real duelists don't have to waste their time," he says, smirk steadily approaching a grin.
You watch him carefully. This seems aggressive, even for him. How far does he think you've fallen?
You test the waters, "Are you going to try and enforce that, or is this your usual sabre rattling?"
His grin widens and his eyes gain a manic glint.
"Aww, and here I was looking out for you," he answers, as he fiddles with the clasp on his arm.
His duel disk snaps open.
"I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself in front of representatives from the academies, but if you insist on being
difficult, I'll show you where you stand."
You pause. He really is full of it today.
It's funny what comes to mind in such situations. You remember an old children's book you read, back in primary school. The words are indistinct and unsatisfying. Something about being the bigger person. About not letting yourself be goaded into doing what other people want you to do. Your grandfather scoffed at it. To your him,
a duelist's honour is paramount. You felt uncomfortable about it at the time.
It's just words. Letting such things wash over you felt intellectually correct.
Today, you do not feel like being intellectually correct.
With a twist of your will, your duel disc extends. Another parlour trick. On a normal day, you wouldn't flout it, but it serves to make a statement. You have no intention of playing 'fair' today; of ignoring the gap between you and your opponent. Of acting within the confines of the usual social contract. Of abstaining from the things people expect you to abstain from. Your foe has a weak soul. Why should you not strangle him with it?
You take a breath, as all the things you've wanted to say start to come to mind.
CHOOSE ONE
[] You've spent a long time dealing with his crap. Today, you're going to let him have both barrels. Let him know exactly what you think of him.
[] He still doesn't get it. Walk him through exactly why you haven't destroyed him
until now. Set the record straight.
[] But you do not say them. He's looking for a rise from you, as he always is. Stone wall him. Let your cards do the talking.
With a single, smooth movement, your deck slides out of the box in your pocket and is placed in the disk. You square up your stance and—
"You're not going to start without us, are you?" drawls a voice from behind you.
You look back over your shoulder.
The four examiners have entered, along with another.
Oh.
That's.
That's quite unfortunate.
It's well known that, upon growing one's personal magic to a certain level, it begins to manifest itself physically. Sometimes it results in strange eye colours, but most commonly, it affects the hair. Odd, gravity defying hairstyles and impossible colours are a well-known side effect. The eighth person is very clearly an individual who's been strongly affected by this. Striking red hair, highlighted with a bright blue, falls in large, uneven spikes. There's a
pressure to his presence that speaks to that inner power. He has to be a three star duelist, at minimum.
Yikes.
You don't know what's going on exactly, but this person must be the reason for the whole dog and pony show.
A silence falls across the arena. You clearly aren't the only one who's come to this conclusion. Everyone knows who the examiners are actually here for.
The boy in question chirps up.
"Oh man, you guys are really fired up about this!"
You cautiously look back at him, and then at the examiners. Will they care about what the 'riff-raff' are doing? You're not sure. Sure enough, they don't seem particularly concerned with the duel between you and Rudy about to break out. Crimson Palace is glaring venomously at Welkin, who seems to studiously ignore him, the picture of the stoic, imperious duelist. F.W. looks more annoyed than anything. The Gaian examiner looks...you'd say almost faintly amused.
"..."
You don't remember swallowing a mouthful of sand, but that's what must have happened. Your throat is bone dry. You sneak a look back at Rudy. His bug-eyed expression of horror is enough to break the tension just enough for your voice to start working again.
"My apologies, examiners, we were—"
"Save your words, young duelist," interrupts the Crimson Palace examiner, "This matter is trying enough on my old bones. Any way expedite this farce, I will gladly take."
The F.W. examiner shoots an exasperated look at him.
"There
are rules, Executor Lector," he says pointedly, "A bracket must be drawn o—"
"I have drawn out a bracket," declares the Welkin examiner, drawing affronted glares from the two old men. With a flash of purple light, she calls a piece of paper to hand, which she reads off, "The first match of this examination tournament shall be Anastasia Agni versus Rudolph Kauffman."
You're about to say something, but it dies in your throat as she looks at the two of you. Right, she knows that's the two of you. Of course it was deliberate,
you idiot.
The Gaian examiner looks back to his peers, then across to the other duelists with mild smile and a sort of resigned shake of his head.
"How about you let everyone else get into the stands first, then you can show us what you've got."
x X x X x
The outcome of the next three duels is predetermined for the sake of demonstration; think of this as the tutorial. Going forward, you'd have the option to write-in potential arguments and/or pass priority. For now, this is demonstrating how the process works (and how it translates into the next post).
Please also note that, while the options chosen below will affect the options you have for your upcoming duels, you don't need to worry about this affect what cards you have on hand past this first section.
Let's look at the duel's start:
Anastasia's Opener
(Knowledge) Rolled 1 D10 +4: 9 | Rolls: 5
(Talent) Rolled 1 D10 +4: 6 | Rolls: 2
(Guile) Rolled 1 D10 +6: 13 | Rolls: 7
(Drive) Rolled 1 D10 +7: 17 | Rolls: 10
Mastery: 7
Total: 37
(Highest 2 rolls (13 + 17) + Mastery (7))
Rudy's Opener
(Knowledge) Rolled 1 D10 +4: 9 | Rolls: 5
(Talent) Rolled 1 D10 +2: 3 | Rolls: 1
(Guile) Rolled 1 D10 +5: 6 | Rolls: 1
(Drive) Rolled 1 D10 +2: 6 | Rolls: 4
Mastery: 2
Total: 17
(Highest 2 rolls (9 + 6) + Mastery (2))
Being that Ana's Opener is higher than Rudy's, she gets first crack at an argument. Post tutorial, your opponent's numbers will not be visible; only your own and whether you were successful.
Enemy Duelist - Rudolph Kauffman
Deck: Psychics
Key Cards: Psychic Snail, Reinforced Human Psychic Borg, Master Gig
Key Elements: Life Point Manipulation, Powerful Attacks, Main Deck Focused
During the first turn, you will be presented with information akin to the above, with which you can make an educated decision on what sort of argument you want to make.
OPENING ARGUMENT
[] "Without a critical mass of cards, my opponent cannot function. Constantly clearing his board will allow my standalone cards to prevail."
[] "The life costs my opponent relies on are exploitable. I know he's never ready for his opponent to immediately go for the jugular."
[] "My opponent's big trick is going all in with a single push. I can just stop him from attacking and kill him with indirect damage."
