I wlll open box 8 as fast as I can.
@UsagiTenpura
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The Iron Golem seems content with the amount of boxes he has acquired and sits outside the bakery, not picking a box yet.
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Quixote has opened #06 forgetting to @ me, what a baka!
Lucky you, there is an actual cookie inside.
It’s delicious, I assure you.
What a great victory!
…Oh, you also get to live.
Antra has opened #08 with lightning speed, glowing a little in the process
Lucky you, there is an actual cookie inside.
It’s delicious, I assure you.
What a great victory!
…Oh, you also get to live.
The Iron Golem’s statement has been aknowledged for now.
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This must be the power of Cirno, to turn even those around her into fools!
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Yuuka wanders over to box 1, which conveniently enough is appropiately sized for her to sit down on it. @UsagiTenpura
“I’ll open it later… after a little nap.”
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Michael moves in towards the golem and then, making no attempts at hiding his intentions, begins charging his fist.
“Exactly what is your deal anyways, nipah~? We haven’t had a chance to spar yet, have we, Golem-san?”
And then he releases his punch at him. @King_Titanite_XV
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(for this fight I decided to find a remix of the Iron Golem’s theme and saw this pretty neat 8 bit gem)
The golem stands and swings its axe from right to left, releasing a blade of wind that cuts the very air, the attack flying forward with a deafening roar. The pressurized wind is followed by the stalwart iron giant slamming its blade and its fist at the same time to the ground, causing a crack, then a fissure to begin to form.
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Michael blocks the incoming wind pressure to keep from being blown away. When he notices the fissure, he realizes this is no opponent to just play around with. Gathering all of his strength and speed, he quickly closes in on the giant’s right leg before releasing a massive punch and then immediately jumping to the side to put some distance inbetween the two of them.
“Impressive power you got there, mii~. But there is little spirit behind it; for what reason are you here, Golem-san? Are you fighting for victory, for glory, or for shwe~et cookiesu nano desu yo~?”
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Oh btw just saying that I’m not going to update boxes until the two current battles are resolved in a way or another.
Well, at the very least the Zepfur/Pictoshark puzzle thing.
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“Eh?”
With a start, Zepfur leaps up and shakes her head. She checks her makeup in her pocket mirror and…
“What is this… A jigglypuff-play?”
She groans, unable to wipe off the permanent marker. That darn jackass.
"In any case, the answer is obvious. You capitalised Anyone Else, which makes that a name. After all, proper nouns are the only things we capitalise like that, and I’d hate for you to end up in grammar hell for a grammar logic error. Anyway… After that, the 'he’s are all switched between AE and the victim. Or, most likely, just the he in “before he entered” which means there’s a huge and unspecified amount of time for the killer to have gotten in and killed the victim. Though maybe all of the he’s refer to AE, in which case he must have been used as a battering ram to open that door considering he was dead by the time it was opened… But I digress.
Alternatively, poison or indirect methods of murder were used. But that would be boring and lame."
Zepfur spins her gun like Revolver Ocelot and fires three bullets.
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Okay I’m going to be so disappointed if this is NOT the truth.
The Sorcerer took aim and his words filled his shots with magic, shooting down the incoming bullets.
His first shot was a reflect shot off the ceiling…
“All pronouns in the narration of this mystery refer to the victim!”
…and his second was aimed over his shoulder with his back to the incoming shot.
“Even an indirect means of murder would require the killer to be in the room the victim died in at the instant of the victim’s death.”
Both intercepting shots struck true, the danger had passed.
The sorcerer only noticed something about the peculiar nature of his rival’s shots after the blaring sound of gunshots had faded.
They weren’t blue.
“Hey, Demon. Don’t forget to color your answers with the blue truth and word them as a statement about what happened, it would be quite uncouth to continue without respecting proper structure and you won’t get to see any physical damage as a result of you getting the answer if you just fire ordinary shots.”
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The sorcerer pointed to a simple digital clock within the murder scene that he was squaring off with the demon in.
The clock grew threefold in size along with it’s digits shifting to 11:50:00. Following that it began counting down second by second. A reminder of the approaching time limit for their clash now that they were just over halfway through it’s duration.
Zepfur suddenly shudders in and out of view as they rewrite history to hide their embarrassing mistake. What mistake? No mistake. None. None whatsoever.
You can’t prove anything!
“What are you talking about? Is that some weird fanfiction. How pathetic, that in your attempts to discredit my eptitude you’ve gone and fabricated something strange like that.”
…
“I absolutely did not get pronouns and proper nouns confused.”
…
"In any case, this is easy enough. You never said no-one entered the room after the victim entered. You only said no-one was in the room BEFORE the victim entered, and that the door was closed BEFORE Anybody Else could enter. Which means that someone could easily have entered in the span of time between the victim entering and the door closing, provided they do it before Anybody Else tries to enter. In effect, empty room - door opens - victim enters - killer enters - door closes - victim dies - Anybody Else/Whoever found the body tries to enter.
That should suffice as a decent enough theory. Alternatively we’re not working with a solid door. Maybe a bead curtain."
Zepfur fires two bullets and then thinks to herself.
“I just remembered why I prefer harem games. So much less… possible answers…”
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The latter bullet fired by the demon was utterly ineffective, being knocked down by the Sorcerer’s gaze alone.
The former on the other hand…
The bullet that knew itself how true the words attached to it were transformed into a great lance in the instant it crossed the space between the duelists, pinning the Sorcerer to the wall straight through his chest.
He gagged in pain, followed by throwing up quite the volume of blood. He then began to speak in a pained tone, having clearly forgotten the sensation somewhat.
"Oh, right… this is a thing that happens when a mystery of your own pen is felled. Despite saying it earlier… I suppose I didn’t really understand how much…
Ow."
With a pain racked wave of his hand the two of them vanished, likely to discuss their penalty game in private.
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A shimmering but bleak, fantastical but ominous, strange but all too familiar light broke in the middle of the bakery and (at once) two figures returned. One of whom looked particularly pleased with herself.
“Heheh… Kuhihihi… Of all the things I’ve heard, that’s up there on the list.”
Zepfur nods, very pleased with herself, upon hearing secret words.
“Anyhoo!”
With a stretch and a wiggle, she bends over and… regurgitates everything she cleaned off the shoe. Dirt, dust, gunk, dog shit maybe i don’t know it’s nasty and gross and smells bad. She finally stops and daintily wipes her mouth with the hem of her maid costume.
“Whew. There we go.”
With a large grin, she turns towards her sorcerer frenemy(?) and nods, pointing down at the putrid pool.
“Well, then! Lick this whole puddle up and choke it all down.”
“So what, my tongue, licking up all of… that?”