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[Mini-Phalla] of Brass: The Philosopher Kings (God Save The Queen: Cultist/Templar Win)
Posts
Retaba 4
ObiFett 2
premium 2
SeGaTai 2
Gizzy 2
jdarksun 1
kime 1
Lockeout 1
TheRoadVirus 1
vertroue 1
This is why I despise cyclists
Well there's a reason, thanks, Terran scum
premium
BradicusMaximus
Retaba, I'm sorry. I don't have a good reason. There's been no analysis on voting today, and all my effort has been spent on what my word processor says is...holy shit. Six thousand words on why wishing for more wishes in a phalla is a bad idea.
I just like Starcraft and whatnot.
My avatar is from Twin Peaks.
Also, I just got done reading a book so my activity has picked up.
On the other brightside, I am totally gonna get my revenge tonight. Well I mean, it is now a revenge because before it was just an attack and chaos and whatnot. But now I get to frame it that way! Hooray.
Hahahahaha time to shake up the puzzle pieces!
Now we just a couple of people to switch off Retaba to different people...
It should be enacted because by not enacting it, not only are we completely wasting this opportunity to change a rule, but we're losing all potential future changes as well.
Now back to conquering the world!
We've talked a lot about the village in this debate, and we've talked a lot about the phalla community at large. There's one critical person, affected deeply by this particular debate, that we've not discussed, and that is @I needed a name to post.
There are two separate reasons involving INANTP that justify not implementing the proposal. The first is that it will suck for him, and that is inherently bad, and the second is that it will discourage him from hosting future games like this one, which, as ought to be clear from our discussions, would be bad for both Phyphor and I.
Hosting is an obnoxious job. There is a shit-ton of bookkeeping to be done, you've got to answer clarifying questions from everybody, you suddenly have an hour (at least!) of your night occupied for a week or more. But there are benefits, too; you get to watch people interact, see what cool shit they come up with, watch great plays and bad mistakes. The people who host repeatedly thereby show themselves to believe that on balance, it's worth it. The problem with this proposal is that it makes the bad parts of hosting worse and does not make the good parts better.
It does not make the good parts better because all the awesome plays and bad mistakes can still happen without this rulechange. All this rulechange means is that a few more rules go to Argument. My current bet is that few rulechanges will actually get implemented, based on the game structure, and that's the payoff he could hope for. It's no better for him.
It's actually significantly worse for him, though. There's a little more tracking in that he's got to follow all the proposals to make sure they don't get 4, instead of being able to take shortcuts and not bother with ones he's confident won't win. That extra tracking is just straight up shitwork. There's nothing good about it. But that's not really the bad part.
The bad part is that there are, by your own account, probably twice as many (or more!) debates as there would've been before. Debates in this game are an extra level of administration. He's got to read through all the extra debates and assess them. Maaaaybe he gets lucky and one of the extra debates is amusing, but that extra amusing-ness is cut by the fact that that's got more than twice as many debates a night to slog through, and they're not all going to be amusing. God, I just hope this debate is kinda amusing, given the combined text lengths.
Of course, INANTP has an out. The rules say explicitly that he can drop ruleschanges that would make it too hard on him. But, of course, he doesn't want to invoke that rule too often; he wants to give us the freedom to change the rules as we'd like. The fact that he chose to allow this rule to go to Argument does not mean that passing it wouldn't be bad for him. It just means that he's willing to accept that extra burden. That doesn't mean we should let him. INANTP wants to give us freedom to act as we choose. Let's not choose to use that freedom to screw him over.
Of course, INANTP having to do more shitwork for no extra benefit is definitely bad in itself, but it also causes a further problem: he's less likely to do games like this in the future, and I, at least, desperately want him to. Given what we know of Phyphor, how he engaged with my game, how he's engaged in this one, I think it's pretty obvious he is massively enjoying himself and moreover he ought to anticipate massively enjoying himself in any future game like this.
I don't want to bludgeon the horse too much; note that Phyphor, at the beginning of his first defense post here grants that people should have fun and that unfun games discourage future participation. I think it's a short jump from there to the claim that greater work discourages future hosting. But to emphasize, note that I don't need that because of this rulechange passing INANTP will never host a game like this again. I just need that INANTP is less likely to, or likely to host fewer. Either of those reduce the expected value of INANTP's future games to Phyphor and myself, and therefore we ought to agree that this proposal should not pass. Think of the host.
I even gave you some beginnings!
No.
guys i'm so pizza sleepy please send in your orders so i can prewrite as much as possible i wanna go bed
Skyrim
GT/Twitter: Tanith 6227
I propose we skip over day 2 as if it never happened and I challenege INANTP to debate it
For one thing, you wouldn't have to do a narration for tonight which would make things infinitely more easy for you!
Retaba.
Skyrim
GT/Twitter: Tanith 6227
It would not. I was literally staring at my post with the mouse cursor hovering over the post comment button for the last five minutes of the debate, on the assumption that you would post a last minute argument. I hit post in response to the popup that let me know phyphor posted in this thread. I figured if you were posting in this thread at that time, you were last minute posting.
I was prepared to waste the writing if you didn't post.
I'll take this as a decline to debate.
She saw it all.
Before her eyes a man solemnly placed his belongings in a suitcase, fitting all he owned in this country in luggage. Retaba Javed Nabavi tried to refrain from crying. The indignity laid upon him was palpable. He had thought that he could come to Westspire and learn, and they would not look upon him with disdain for being from a different land. Clearly, he thought wrong. This she saw, and more.
The madman, the observer. He watched as well, and when he grew bored Aleister Burgess turned from the bed and took his business elsewhere. It did not sufficiently entertain him. He strode confidently through the halls of Skybarrow, passing student after student, and not a soul was perplexed at the shoddily dressed man as he passed them by.
“You see my dear,” he said to no one with a wry grin, as though he knew she was there, “The intellectual pay little mind to those that fall...outside their perception of genius.” Aleister slid down the banister and slipped past the guards to Passeridae's hall. She followed – she felt she had to. He intruded upon the headmaster's office, browsing books with boredom and discarding those that did not meet his unspecified specifications.
“Bit rubbish innit?” he asked the headmaster. Passeridae nearly jumped, as though seeing the man for the first time.
“Who are you?” he demanded, “Get out! No visitors are permitted at this hour and my guards are posted, so you must not be here!”
“Eh,” Aleister shrugged. He strode to Passeridae's desk, plucking an apple with ratty fingers. The crunch of his bite was like the shattering of a glacier. “Funny about me being here then.” Clomping ungainly steps, his boots brought him to the window. “Lovely night.”
Ready to defend himself if need be, the Headmaster-King rose from his seat. “What business have you here?”
Aleister grinned, lifting the long curtains on either side. “Now look at these old things, tearing and fraying. How long have you had them? Collecting dust as the world walks by.”
“I doubt you intend to discuss my curtains, eccentric,” Passeridae concluded. He stepped around his desk, but kept his distance. “I am not accustomed to dealing with ignorable tangents and suggest you be clear.”
Like a phantom, Aleister was before him. “You ab̛ol͡is͞h ̀t̛he ̡fu͏ţure wh͏i͜le͠ c̕ond̸em̷ni͡n͏g͘ ͘t̛h̷e͝ ̀p̶ąs̸t. ͝Yo̕ư c̷h҉oose̡ to li͞ve̵ ̸w͢it͝hi͟n͏ ҉h̀im̶.̢ ̶We ̨sta̡nd̡ ca͢g̸e͜d͘ ̴by ̕ou͠r ͠o̸w̢n̶ min͢d ͝and chain̡e͟d ̴wit̡hiņ ̛h́i̛śsi̸ng͞ a̛nd y̸awnin̵g̢ ͠s̶team̢. Bef̵ǫr͞e̡ it e͡nds y̧o͟ų wi̶ll҉ rot́ a̢nd t̡h͜e͞ ͞knif̕e͟ ̶shal̵l b̛e̢ ̕yo̵u͜r ͡ow͘n͠ bloo̴d.” And then he was at the window, devouring his apple like the starving orphan. “Old books, old curtains, old man what's the newest thing you've got?” He turned and grinned. The colour had gone from Passeridae's face. “Just something to think about. Cheers!”
The madman left him, and returned to the hall. She saw him leave. But she also saw the one who awaited him.
“No,” Aleister smiled, “Not yet.”
And he was gone, and she knew where he was, but her eyes drifted elsewhere.
The librarian looked to her side, and saw the pistol through the shelves. She dove without ceremony, skinning her knees as the shot went above her. Her attacker darted down the aisle to cut her off, but she did not race him. “Librarians,” she said, “Warhol v. Mason, 785. 335.229 ENC.”
When her attacker turned the aisle she had gone. Surely, though, she could not have gone far. She was but a frail girl half his size. He held still for a moment, listening for any indication of her in the silent room. Bookspines piled around him like headstones. Then he heard the ruffle of a skirt, and turned, and she grabbed him around the waist and threw him over herself.
Against the bottom row of Coatl Mythology the pistol sat, and there their heads met as they both dived for it. He was stronger and pushed her aside, but the librarian was unfazed. “659.012 SYM,” she said, and in a puff of knowledge she vanished before he could pull the trigger. This time prepared he returned to the aisle, running down the rows and coming between the section and the exit.
“Pre-referenced, clever,” he growled as he caught site of her, quickly turning at the sight of him. “Stupid ass.”
“450.555 AIN.”
“348.835 HAN.”
“019.249 WEL.”
She could speak and vanish faster than he could chase, and in his anger he stumbled across the solution. He struck the bookshelf once. Its wobble betrayed its keeper. All of his weight was then applied, and one after the other they began to tumble down. The ruffle and tearing of ancient pages rattled as they fell. She ran, and she shouted, and then with a crack she screamed.
Her attacker walked up to premium Charlotte Warhol as she struggled to get free, her leg already swelling from where it was trapped. He allowed her no words, and offered none.
This his watcher saw, and so too did she see as he leaned against the wall and shook after the deed, and vomited against the floor. But she was meant to be elsewhere.
No, to be precise, she was meant to be with her body, but she did not want to see it. She had looked upon the face of the man who had killed her, her and precious, gentle Gizzy Morrighan Strade, and the thought of seeing him once more filled her with something she could not express. Langly Madelaine Lalonde scorned her betrayer beyond words, and letting her soul linger in her body or beyond would honor him too deeply.
The chase was what she wished to see.
SeGaTai Aleister Burgess laughed and laughed and laughed as he ran through the halls, his body lasting long beyond what anyone would have expected of him. Gold flashed in his wake, and steel scraped across the floor. Students had sprinted through the halls of Skybarrow before, desperate to arrive at class in time, but they lacked the fervor of the steps that now echoed down the hall. Aleister kicked up rugs behind him, knocking armour and vases to the ground. His opponent slid when necessary, put up their shoulders to knock offense aside, but did not surrender. When Aleister slid down a bannister she leaped to follow. When he slammed the doors shut she broke them down. And when he appeared to be somewhere he was not, she ignored his insanity, and hunted him unerringly.
The madman slid beneath a glass window, rising to run again and striking his shin on the seat of a bench. He stumbled. Through the glistening stained glass of the Benevolent Grace she came. By the shoulder she grabbed him, and forced him to face her. By the neck she lifted him, and threw him to the table.
“Do you want to know the best way to win a game?” he asked, grinning as she towered above him.
“I already do,” she said.
She lifted the head of Aleister Burgess to the students staring awestruck at the intrusion to their dinner hall. The mask upon her face betrayed no emotion at all.
Retaba: Javed Nabavi (Savant) – Extradited
Langly: Madelaine Lalonde (Deathspeaker) – Betrayed!
Gizzy: Morrighan Strade – Betrayed!
premium: Charlotte Warhol (Librarian) [Mad] – Killed
SeGaTai: Aleister Burgess (Madman) [Mad] - Lupus Non Timet Canem Latrantem
3/4 Metaphors Remain
Invictus has defeated Phyphor by 4 points. The proposal codenamed “Infinite Wishes” is nullified.
Grunt's Ghost has defeated Zombie Hero by 2 points. The proposal codenamed “Controlled Deathspeech” is nullified.
Langly jdarksun is debating for a goldenrod resurrection vote. Retaba Zombie Hero opposes, and has first post.
Two proposals tied for secondary support. The earliest has been chosen.
TheRoadVirus is debating for geth-granted powers. Gizzy ObiFett opposes, and has first post.
13 players did not support a debate.
@blahmcblah has replaced vertroue. Please include him in any vertroue conversations you have gotten up to.
Day 3 concludes at 8 PM PST Saturday. Debates close an hour beforehand. PMs are now going out.
Savant?
Librarian?
Madman (who also happened to be mad)?
premium
BradicusMaximus
Does someone fear my awesome debate skillz???