Veteran Bracket: Christoph vs. Relt Peltfelter

[Relt PeltFelter]

The pilot's grip on her most recently acquired bottle tightened until her skin squeaked. "For starters," she began tersely, a crimson tether of mutual outrage chaining her eyes to those of her opposition, "Where do you get off saying there's no way of knowing if the many-worlds interpretation is accurate? I'm here, aren't I? And barring your ridiculous 'telephone portal' nonsense, or whatever false word you invented, the only mechanism for that would be a bridge across the higher dimensions between my timeline and this one, as the likelihood of this merely being another planet populated with human beings in my own universe is so utterly improbable it would make H.G. Wells spit blood!"

Relt tried to settle down a bit, ignoring the raucous cricket hooligans of intoxication as they urged her to violence. "But let us ignore your crass ignorance, and return to the original point of contention. You posit that it is not true time travel, but a form of dimensional travel. Now, with the theory that time itself is but a dimension, you are simultaneously correct and incorrect. Hellfire and damnation, man, walking across the room is dimensional travel; it doesn't mean I haven't moved from one end of this tavern to the other!" The woman stood up, then immediately sat back down. She thought about this for a moment, berated her inner ear into cooperation, and managed a shaky stand once more.

"Simply because such travel does not change the state of time as it is for your future does not mean it is an absence of time travel. The organization of the cosmic whatever in which an uncountable range of universes are constantly splitting and dancing around one another is structured this way precisely because of things in the vein of that garbage paradox you've so petulantly lauded. While killing your own grandfather is possible without negating your own existence, it does not mean that travel backward, or indeed forward, in time is impossible. Merely highly improbable and very difficult and likely not worth the effort."

"Besides, even if you cannot change the future from which you originate, does not mean that it may be better to remain in the new future you create. It's the same people, merely reflected through a different prism. Who knows? Perhaps there's a version of you in some other universe that isn't an insufferable prat with the intellect of a headless goose." Relt took another drink, content in the knowledge that she had won, and stubbornly fighting the drunken impulse to remove her shirt and vest and begin striking people.

[Christoph]

Frustrated, Elijah smacked his face with his palm so hard that his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Or maybe they actually did. Or maybe that was just the alcohol mob finally catching up with him with clubs and pitchforks. His vision started to spin a little. The bar counter was very shiny, he realized. A man said that one could solve the mysteries of the universe by gazing into a beer spill on a shiny bar counter. At least, someone should have said that. It would have been very profound.

He jostled his head around until his vision cleared and the world seemed to straiten out. He was maybe two minutes away from barely being able to stumble up the stairs to his room, and he would not allow that asinine ‘fighter pilot’ to think that she’d won with her illogical ramblings that were void of any trace of deductive reasoning. All world-jumpers were the same, thinking that their origins were so much more ‘advanced’ and that it gave them the right to talk down their nose at the ‘natives.’ Elijah wouldn’t stand for it. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts for but a moment.

“Normally, I would attribute your pattern of ignoring my arguments and points in favor of senseless insults to your state of inebriation,” Elijah began, his words effortlessly flowing from his lips in a string of articulate verbal silk even as certain parts of his brain began shutting down. “But I am leaning toward the theory that this is normal behavior for you.” He stood up on shaky legs and shot his debate opponent a pitying glance. “I don’t even know where to begin, as countering your staggering amount of idiocy would be akin to draining the oceans themselves.”

“First off, killing your own grandfather before being born would not merely negate your existence; it would create a time paradox. A paradox. Of course, I’ve already stated this and, of course, you chose to ignore it.” He sighed. “Secondly, I think you underestimate the vastness of the universe. The universe as far as our astronomers can tell, is immeasurably massive, perhaps even infinite. Therefore, the probability of another human-inhabited world existing somewhere out there in the cosmos is actually within the plausible limits; it wouldn’t matter how improbable it would be for humans to appear on a specific planet when there is potentially an boundless number of planets.

“On the other hand, the many-worlds theory of time travel is mind-bogglingly dubious. Traveling back in time and creating a new reality? Creating an entirely new reality. That’s serious business. Have you any idea how much energy the creation of a new universe would require? Let us calculate.”

He returned to the smudged chalkboard and began scrawling out strings of numbers and mathematical symbols. “To simplify things, won’t worry about the energy and material contained in planets, instead focusing only on the stars. The headmaster of the Radasanth Astronomers Guild worked with one of the most respected mages in the known world and came up with an estimate of the stored energy within each form of star.” He wrote out an extraordinary large number.

“Multiply this by the number of stars believed to exist in the universe… do some calculations here, and we can determine that when the stars align, we can use the tree-shaped magical elder sign to call forth the sinister priest of the old gods from his sunken ci—wait. Sorry, that was just a rounding error.” He scribbled out several steps in his calculations, and then just gave up. Everyone in the inn stared at him, their confused eyes glazed over. In his drunken state, really know what he was talking about anymore either, but that didn’t stop him.

“Let’s just go ahead and say that it’s the amount of energy in the universe that would be required to create a new reality. So which is more likely: that another planet existed in the universe inhabited by humans or that we can somehow create new universes using all the energy in the universe?”

“So there we have it,” he said. “And I think it’s time you get left behind by the booze caravan.” He snatched the woman’s bottle from in front of her and downed the rest of its contents. “Because if you get any stupider your brain will collapse from lack of mass.” With that, he half walked, half stumbled to the stairs to his rented room. He paused to give the tavern-goers a wave. “That’s it for tonight folks! Enjoy your evening!” He wouldn't be enjoying his morning.

[Relt PeltFelter]

While Relt could simply have issued a well-phrased and cogent rebuttal, that particular element of her psyche was currently having its head held under the water butt by the unrelenting trio of Dreadful Intoxication, Bad War Memories, and Blind Rage. While her bottle had been summarily snatched, there were plenty of empties lying around. The pilot issued a guttural howl, left hand smashing the bottom of a bottle against the counter even as her right tore at her clothes, leaving the decorated aeronautical combatant charging drunkenly towards her erstwhile debating compatriot, brassiere currently failing to do the job it was invented for. The glistening edge of the broken bottle was almost an afterthought.

Many of the remaining patrons dove out of the way as Relt's booted foot caught on a stool, sending her sprawling to the ground with a muffled cry. The improvised weapon skidded away from her hand. The young barmaid, having watched the situation spiral wildly out of control, felt terribly responsible. She had served the powerful spirits in the first place, and perhaps if the two strong-willed argumenteers had stuck to the bitter swill, none of this nonsense would have happened. The girl went to Relt, figuring she might as well help the fallen soldier to her room.

"Come on, mis-oh, I mean...Group Captain. It were room five, weren't it?" The girl knelt down to help. Relt had managed to roll onto her back, and beckoned the barmaid closer. The freckled lass brought her head closer, and the pilot whispered something into her ear.

It was the most monstrously explicit thing the girl had ever heard.

Conflicted within herself, but somehow feeling strangely flattered, the barmaid helped Relt PeltFelter to her feet, up the stairs, and into her room. Much to the bartender's chagrin, he didn't see the girl again until the next morning, where she seemed much happier. That was much later, though. As the sun begin climbing in a hazy sky, Relt found herself awakening with a crippling hangover. The girl was still blissfully, if no longer innocently, asleep. Clad only in bloomers and brassiere, Relt stepped out into the inn hall with a cup of tea.

There was a complimentary broadsheet just outside the door, and though the pilot still knew next-to-nothing about this world's political climate, the text was pleasingly large enough that reading it didn't summon the tiny jackhammers to her forebrain. She sipped her tea muzzily, glaring at the paper over the rim of the cup. The words may as well have been in another language. Relt wandered towards the staircase leading down to the tavern, empty at this hour. She saw the frantic chalk diagrams on the wall, a pile of broken glass by the bar, a number of still-overturned chairs.

"What the hell happened in here last night?" she asked no-one.

[Tainted Bushido]

Judging courtesy of Amaril Torrun.

Apologies to both of you for making this one of the last two threads to be judged. I’m going to go with a limited commentary here to move things along, but feel free to contact me if you’re looking for more information. Christoph’s scores will come first. Relt PeltFelter’s scores will come second. No colors.


Story

Continuity: 7, 6 : I learned more about Elijah’s reasons for being in Radasanth and about his past life. He referenced his experiences in life often, using them to dictate how he would act. Relt didn’t use her own life, but more the world she came from to dictate her actions. Both were good, but I felt that Christoph had a slightly better feel for why Elijah was where he was. I have a feeling this was what you two were going for, but this thread seemed a lot like a “this one time in a bar…” type of story.

Setting: 4, 3 : Both of you described very little of the pub. Things seemed to be appearing out of the air whenever they were most convenient to be used by either of your characters, especially the mouse, fireplace, and blackboard. Christoph was a bit more descriptive, but still fell short of really fleshing out the tavern.

Pacing: 6, 6

Character

Dialogue: 9, 7 : This is where the thread shined. Relt, you may be missing out on your potential in this category. You use words such as “poppycock,” but I feel there is much more you could add to your British dialogue to truly make her voice unique in a strange, foreign world.

Action: 5,5 :

Persona: 6, 5 : As mentioned in continuity, I got more out of what makes Elijah tick. Relt has a history, heck a year more than Elijah to be exact. You do use references to facts that hold true on Earth to remind the reader where she comes from, but I received very little on who she is. She’s got her quirks that make her stand out, such as an easy temper due to the army, but I really felt you could have expanded more on who she is.

Writing Style

Technique: 5, 5 : One thing you both did was use parentheses. It is a writer’s choice to use it in one’s work, but it takes away from the literary feel for your readers.

Mechanics: 4, 7 : You both had mistakes, but Christoph’s were significantly more noticeable, such as missing words.

Clarity: 5, 5

Wild Card: 7, 7 : This is where the benefit of a “this one time in a bar…” type of story in a tournament battle. It was unique and you two worked well together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Christoph earns a score of 58.
Relt PeltFelter earns a score of 56.

Christoph advances to Round 2. Congratulations!

Christoph earns 2625 experience and 200 gold.
Relt PeltFelter earns 750 experience and 200 gold.

If either of you have any questions about anything feel free to contact me via PM or AIM: loligagerrofl12.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added!