09-09-2013, 06:54 AM
I’m gonna do this backwards to make Jeff/Greg suffer. DON’T SKIP AHEAD! You’ll get to find out who I am AFTER the writing sample.
For the writing sample is legend.
THE Legend.
The Legend… of Tight Pants!
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THE LEGEND OF TIGHT PANTS
He woke with a gasp, sweat pouring down his face, his breathing quickened and his body trembling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and instantly, his entire body seemed to slacken and relax. He took another, and felt his heart rate decline.
“It’s over. Just the dream again,” he mumbled, his voice gravely with sleep. He wiped a thick layer of sweat from his brow and climbed to his feet, his mind flashing back to that formative day.
He never got along with the other kids, and spent most of his years in elementary being bullied by the other students. The validation he craved was always just out of reach, and not one person would call him ‘friend.’ But he’d concocted a solution; a reimagining of himself.
Showing up to gym class in tight short shorts was meant to separate him from the crowd, to make him stand out. To make the throngs of students accept him. To raise him up unto a god! But it had all gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Somehow, his execution hadn’t been successful. Somehow, something had gone wrong, and instead of being idolized, he’d become even more of a pariah than he had been before. In tears, he was driven from gym class, and fled the town of Truth or Consequences, swearing he would ‘get it right,’ whatever ‘it’ was. Most thought he’d left forever…
He shook his head. Just a goddamn dream. No, things were good now. Great, even. Fuck the past. He glanced over at the alarm clock. 7:04. Whatever. Might as well get an early start on his day off. He stood and stretched, before donning a striped sweater and his signature, bright white, ultra tight, tight pants. He slid them on and felt a familiar, almost painful, pressure clamp down upon his… stuff. Yeah. He knew he looked amazing. Finally, all he needed was a pair of kickass white boots, and he was out the door.
As soon as he stepped outside, the sun shone brighter, the grass grew greener, and the weather, already basically perfect, got better. The one cloud in the sky knew to get the hell out of there, for he had arrived.
Flashing a huge grin to the mailman and then firing off a quick double-finger-snap-slash-finger-points at a mother pushing her stroller, he elicited emphatic smiles and waves as he strolled down the middle of the street, traffic parting for him as he did, every driver and pedestrian as far as the eye could see trying to get a glimpse, a wave, or a high five from him.
Yes, he had arrived.
“Everybody’s talking ‘bout my tight pants, about my tight pants, I got my tight pants oonnn,” he sang aloud, dancing and snapping his fingers as he continued down the street.
“Oh my God, Charlene, look!! It’s Tight Pants!!” a woman started waving frantically, and it appeared she might be having a slight panic attack. He shot her a winning smile and continued on his way, his earlier nightmare fading fast. He’d known they were wrong so many years ago. Tight was right! He had just needed time to perfect it.
“Everybody’s lookin’ at my tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!” he cheerily continued, sauntering gallantly into downtown Truth or Consequences. People cheered, screamed, and even fainted as he grooved and gyrated down the street. Traffic continued to try parting for him, but it was more difficult now, as traffic was heavier, and his evocative movements distracted some drivers, causing several minor accidents as he headed along, though nobody seemed particularly upset about it.
Across the street, on the sidewalk, almost invisible compared to Tight Pants, another man stood. A man who had scoffed at Tight Pants so many years ago, back when he still had a name, before his legacy, no, his Legend, had consumed him. Now Tight Pants had won the hearts and minds of all residents, and the man was alone. A man who seethed and boiled with jealous hatred.
“I’m the only guy in town wearin’ tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on! I’m the kinda guy wearin’ tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!” sang Tight Pants, as more men cheered and more women swooned.
The second man glowered balefully at the dancing miscreant; this role reversal would go on no longer. He would have his revenge. The man stalked away before Tight Pants could see him. The element of surprise was crucial in usurping the indomitable power Tight Pants so clearly wore.
- - - - -
His name was Jimmy. Not Tight Pants, the other guy. The one mad at Tight Pants. You know, for stealing his thunder. Try to pay attention, would you? I mean, seriously, why am I even narrating this shit if you’re not even going to follow along? You paying attention? Yeah? You sure you can afford to? Never mind, I’ll be asleep by the time you get that one. Anyway, continuing on,
His name was Jimmy. And he had had enough of Tight Pants’ antics. Soon, he would not be the only guy in town wearin’ tight pants. He laughed a dark, guttural laugh, the timbre of someone who had once had everything, and was forced to let it go, but no longer. After a series of unethical experiments, his pants, his tightest pants, were ready.
For Jimmy was a scientist, both mad and angry, and had created pants so tight, they would bond with him on the molecular level. Yes, soon Tight Pants would be nothing, and Jimmy would inherit the crown. He would command the affection of the townsfolk, and his name would be sung in the streets. “Yes…”
He donned the pants, knowing they would become a part of him. He hadn’t considered that they would consume him. Corrupt him. Compel him to seek out and challenge Tight Pants immediately, before he was ready. Jimmy watched in horror as his body betrayed him, commanded at the behest of his genetically engineered tightest pants, and marched through the wall next to his door, and down the street, dancing and grand-gesturing his way to downtown Truth or Consequences, as shattered wall studs fell out of the hole, now strewn with drywall dust and debris.
- - - - -
“It’s- it’s working!!” Jimmy exclaimed, as people began to clamor around him in hopes of high fives or a winning smile. “Everyone… everyone…” Jimmy looked up to see Tight Pants dancing only ten feet away from where he, himself, was dancing. “Everyone in town likes my tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!!”
Tight Pants’ dancing slowed to a confused, uneasy bobbing, as the impostor began to steal the affection of those gathered around them. “People wouldn’t lie about my tight pants,” the counterfeit continued. “I got my tight pants; I got my tight pants on!”
The screaming and random traffic accidents were now definitely happening more frequently around Jimmy than Tight Pants. The man who had overcome so much in gym class was watching his hard work – his birthright – being stripped away from him. Now it was he who sailed a sea boiling in anger just beneath his flesh.
“I can dance real low, I can dance real high, I can sleep real well knowin’ I’m the only guy wearin’ tight pants, I got my tight pants, and I’m the only one!” Jimmy belted out, his face twisted in horror as the tighter pants compelled him to sing. He saw now that what he had set out to do was wrong, heartless, even, but the pants would not relent. He saw the heartbreak in Tight Pants’ eyes. The man was broken, and it was his fault.
Tears welled up in Tight Pants’ eyes. It was happening all over again. He would be disgraced, and forced to leave Truth or Consequences again, probably forever this time. But then, his resolve redoubled. No, dammit. This was his birthright. This guy was clearly an impostor. He was the one people woke up early to see, not this two-bit knockoff!
“Hey, slow down there, old friend,” Tight Pants began, still trying to retain the upbeat atmosphere, as the onlookers were still cheering and clapping. No reason to force this guy to suffer as he had if he would just step away gracefully. “You say people are talking about your tight pants down at the local five and dime?” he inquired, though he already knew the answer. “Well, I find that hard to believe, since I live in this town and everyone I know is talking about my tight pants.”
“Well,” Jimmy began to involuntarily retort. He fought it with all his might, but the tighter pants squeezed the words out of him. “I talked to Mayor Grimble the other day, and he declared my pants the tightest in the land!” he finished with a forced flourish.
But Tight Pants had had enough. He towered over Jimmy, and his glare became so intense that even the genetically engineered abom-pants-nation froze. “Now you listen to me, you sick son of a bitch,” Tight Pants commanded, instantly silencing the adulations of the onlookers. An eerie quiet settled in on downtown Truth or Consequences. “I don’t know who you are, or where you came from, but I’m the only one in this town that can wear tight pants. You got it?!” he didn’t know what had come over him, but the rage wasn’t yet satisfied. Tight Pants pressed more aggressively. “I will end you!” he threatened. “Don’t wake the snake!”
Tight Pants began hissing at Jimmy, much to the surprise and horror of the crowd. Some laughed uncomfortably, thinking perhaps Tight Pants was playing a poorly executed joke. Nobody had ever seen him so riled up. Murmurs began to spread; perhaps he was so insecure about his identity that he would resort to murder to dissuade anymore impersonators.
“You drinkin’ my sake, kimosabe?!” Tight Pants demanded, moving further into Jimmy’s personal space. The intensity of Jimmy’s fear overwhelmed the biological AI in his tighter pants, frying the circuitry. Mercifully, Jimmy was freed from their iron grip. He didn’t care that Tight Pants was posturing like a maniac; all that mattered was that his mad experiment was over, and that he was his own man again.
“Rock and rolla, Ayatollah,” Jimmy conceded, raising his hands up in a sign of surrender. “I guess I’ll find a new town,” he didn’t need to add that it would do him some good to start with a clean slate; it didn’t need to be said. Tight Pants was happy, and he was free. That was all that mattered.
“Everybody’s talkin’ bout my tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!”
The song continued behind him as Jimmy walked away, and he could hear the renewed fervor of the crowd and their cheers of approval. He smiled. He didn’t need to be Tight Pants. Tight Pants was a hero. Tight Pants… was a legend.
He’d seen the legend. Talked to it. Been a part of it. That was enough for him. Being a legend, it turned out, wasn’t for Jimmy. No, he’d be content to just tell the tale around the world, or maybe just around New Mexico.
Either way, the Legend of Tight Pants was only beginning…
- - - - -
Character name: Magus (alias)
Character’s real name: Janus
Character source: Chrono Trigger
Character history:
The Kingdom of Zeal circa 12,000 BC was a time of the highest magic and technology. Suspended in the clouds by powerful examples of both, the floating islands that made up the lands of the kingdom separated the nobles in the sky from the commoners on the surface below in the most literal division of classes history had ever seen. Zeal was a place of advanced flying machines and wonders such as the Ocean Palace, a place of incredible technology resting at the bottom of the ocean, accessible only via teleportation from the Zeal Palace.
Born in 12,008 BC to Queen Zeal, Prince Janus lived a harsh life. After the suicide of King Zeal, Janus’ mother was driven mad by her lust for power. A strong introvert due in part to personality and circumstance, Janus was cold and distant, much like his mother, close only to his pet cat Alfador and his sister, Schala.
Considered by many to be a pariah due to his apparently limited magical ability and aloof personality, most felt Janus a ‘troubled’ child, and few were eager to befriend a child that the ruthless Queen seemed to detest.
Janus’ sister, however, was unimaginably powerful, second only to their mother, and went to great lengths to care for him. She was his only pillar of support and the only one with whom he conversed regularly. Schala was also the only one who realized how deeply in tune with magic Janus really was, but could do little about it without risking the Queen’s reprisal.
When she was forced to leave to work on an extended experiment with their mother, Janus became angry and disowned Queen Zeal, both furious at his mother’s increasingly risky and unethical practices for acquiring more power and heartbroken to be left with no one but his cat.
In truth, Queen Zeal had developed a machine to feed off of the most powerful force of nature that had ever or would ever exist. The ‘Mammon Machine,’ as she called it, fed directly off of the power of Lavos, a creature which had crashed into the earth during its prehistory and burrowed to its core, feeding off of the planet and all the life on it, all the while shaping and guiding evolution for millions of years.
Unfortunately, Lavos fed on the feedback created by Queen Zeal, Schala, and the other magical masters, and awoke more powerful than ever, unleashing an apocalypse. The floating Kingdom of Zeal was obliterated, as was much of the world below.
The feedback created by the Mammon Machine thrust Janus and the masters into portals through time, leaving the others to weather the armageddon.
Janus found himself in the middle ages, a place of swords and superstitions, 580 BC in his world. He was beset by monsters known as Mystics, and was forced to defend himself with magic, which was thought to have died out among humans ages ago. One of the creatures, Ozzie, saw the potential in Janus’ abilities, and despite being a mage himself, recognized that the boy could easily surpass him one day.
Rather than slaughter the child, Ozzie took him in and raised him, training Janus in the arts of magic and refining his abilities until the day that he could become the Fiendlord of the races of the Mystics. Janus took the name ‘Magus’ in reference to the indomitable magical power he then wielded.
In the twenty years he spent in the backwards middle ages, Magus hadn’t simply become more powerful, but hateful and vengeful of Lavos and his mother for what they had done to his sister. Magus thought of Schala always, and became consumed with his desire slay the monster.
To this end, Magus used his position as Fiendlord to acquire and consolidate power, and engaged in much posturing to cultivate his following among Mystics as a God-King. Though originally unwilling, Magus led his generals in full-fledged war against the Kingdom of Guardia in order to acquire more power and to further deify himself.
Part of him knew that it was also partly out of spite. The people of Guardia thought him a Mystic himself since he was so closely associated with them and could practise magic. Worse yet, his extended exposure to dark magic had twisted his appearance, draining the color from his flesh and twisting his ears into elf-like points, and shifting the hue of his eyes from vibrant green to fiery scarlet. They treated him with the same disdain that the nobility of Zeal had when he was a boy.
The war went well for Magus and his generals. Battle after battle ended in disaster for Guardia, and eventually the kingdom was forced to send their greatest knight, Sir Cyrus, and his squire Glenn, to do battle with Magus himself.
Though Cyrus wielded the Masamune, a legendary sword and the only weapon available to the forces of Guardia capable of breaking Magus’ magical defenses, the Fiendlord bested Cyrus in single combat, murdering him and breaking the sword.
The squire tried to avenge the knight, and Magus disdainfully transformed him into an anthropomorphic frog and kicked him over the edge of a waterfall for the amusement of Ozzie, who had watched the confrontation with Magus and Sir Cyrus.
Now with Guardia heavily on the defensive, Magus focused all of his attention on summoning Lavos within the heart of his keep. He had hoped the harbinger of defeat would leave Guardia powerless to interrupt him, but two warriors accompanied by Glenn the Frog managed to breach his castle’s defenses and enter his summoning chamber.
Glenn, armed with a repaired Masamune, confronted Magus, forcing him to engage in battle with he and his allies. Shockingly, Glenn and his allies were not only able to match him, but had somehow acquired magical talent of their own, though Magus had never once encountered a human other than himself in this time with the ability.
The combined assault of three magic-infused warriors coupled with the incredible mental exertion of holding the summoning spell was too much for the Fiendlord, and Glenn overpowered him, shattering his defenses and wounding him with the legendary sword.
The frog boorishly gloated that he’d prevented Magus from creating Lavos, prompting the arch mage to explain that the creature already existed. His concentration broken, Lavos began to awaken. Magus tried to will it back to sleep, but was interrupted by a massive temporal distortion, which cast he and the three warriors through another gate through space and time.
To his elation, Magus found himself back in his own time just a few months before he had originally been displaced to the middle ages, and the warriors who had defeated him were noticeably absent. He wasted no time making his way back to Queen Zeal, but not before disguising himself in heavy, opulent robes in order to present himself as a great and powerful oracle.
It was easy for him to gain the trust of his power-hungry mother. By making prediction after prediction of the events he had already lived through once before, his reputation as a mighty Prophet spread throughout the kingdom.
It didn’t take long for Queen Zeal to bring him along with Schala and the masters into the Ocean Palace to see the Mammon Machine. It was a difficult time for Magus, who was forced to remain in disguise and not reveal himself to his sister, though every part of him yearned to do so. Still, he knew if he did not confront and kill Lavos when his mother summoned it, he may have risked losing Schala forever. He continued playing his part instead, biding his time.
As he expected, Glenn’s allies arrived, and Magus was able to use his station as a Prophet to easily have the intruders executed. Schala, however, intervened, pleading for their lives to be spared. Unable to hurt his sister, Magus agreed, and banished them through a temporal gate, forcing Schala to seal it behind them.
However, the warriors annoyingly found another way back into 12,000 BC, and arrived again to interrupt the activation of the Mammon Machine, this time moments too late. Lavos was awakened and almost immediately, Queen Zeal attacked Schala who had attempted to reason with her, and leapt upon Lavos, seemingly able to will it to attack and defeat the time traveling warriors.
Magus chose that time to reveal himself, and he, too, was struck down by Lavos before it drained him of much of his power. One of the time travelers, Crono, managed to push himself to his feet and sacrificed himself to give Schala enough time to infuse magic into her pendant to send Magus and Crono’s allies out of the Ocean Palace, but not enough for her to spare herself.
History was forced to repeat itself, and Lavos erupted out of the crust of the earth to rain down apocalyptic destruction, once again erasing the Kingdom of Zeal and decimating the people who lived below.
Contemplating suicide, Magus was confronted at a cliff near the only surviving human settlement on the planet by Glenn and his friends. He took the opportunity to reveal himself as Janus Zeal, and explain his motivations, before giving Glenn the opportunity to face him in a final battle to the death.
Instead, Glenn showed remarkable chivalry and invited Magus to join them in their quest to defeat Lavos. Incensed at his most recent failure, and at the prospect that Schala may have been killed, Magus didn’t hesitate to join, and adventured with the group for a long time.
Finally, the time came, and they traveled forward in time to the day Lavos emerged from the core of the earth. After a long, protracted and bloody battle, Magus finally stood victorious. With his new allies, they were able to strike the monster dead. He watched it squirm and thrash in its death throes, roaring its hideous, guttural roar that didn’t simply reverberate around him, it seemed to pierce through him, but he watched it die.
And it was right then, right then that he was thrown through another portal.
Stats:
ATK: 4
DEF: 0
SPD: 2
TEC: 4
Starting Proficiencies:
Ranged Proficiency
Debilitate Proficiency
Starting Powers:
Telekinesis
For the writing sample is legend.
THE Legend.
The Legend… of Tight Pants!
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THE LEGEND OF TIGHT PANTS
He woke with a gasp, sweat pouring down his face, his breathing quickened and his body trembling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and instantly, his entire body seemed to slacken and relax. He took another, and felt his heart rate decline.
“It’s over. Just the dream again,” he mumbled, his voice gravely with sleep. He wiped a thick layer of sweat from his brow and climbed to his feet, his mind flashing back to that formative day.
He never got along with the other kids, and spent most of his years in elementary being bullied by the other students. The validation he craved was always just out of reach, and not one person would call him ‘friend.’ But he’d concocted a solution; a reimagining of himself.
Showing up to gym class in tight short shorts was meant to separate him from the crowd, to make him stand out. To make the throngs of students accept him. To raise him up unto a god! But it had all gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Somehow, his execution hadn’t been successful. Somehow, something had gone wrong, and instead of being idolized, he’d become even more of a pariah than he had been before. In tears, he was driven from gym class, and fled the town of Truth or Consequences, swearing he would ‘get it right,’ whatever ‘it’ was. Most thought he’d left forever…
He shook his head. Just a goddamn dream. No, things were good now. Great, even. Fuck the past. He glanced over at the alarm clock. 7:04. Whatever. Might as well get an early start on his day off. He stood and stretched, before donning a striped sweater and his signature, bright white, ultra tight, tight pants. He slid them on and felt a familiar, almost painful, pressure clamp down upon his… stuff. Yeah. He knew he looked amazing. Finally, all he needed was a pair of kickass white boots, and he was out the door.
As soon as he stepped outside, the sun shone brighter, the grass grew greener, and the weather, already basically perfect, got better. The one cloud in the sky knew to get the hell out of there, for he had arrived.
Flashing a huge grin to the mailman and then firing off a quick double-finger-snap-slash-finger-points at a mother pushing her stroller, he elicited emphatic smiles and waves as he strolled down the middle of the street, traffic parting for him as he did, every driver and pedestrian as far as the eye could see trying to get a glimpse, a wave, or a high five from him.
Yes, he had arrived.
“Everybody’s talking ‘bout my tight pants, about my tight pants, I got my tight pants oonnn,” he sang aloud, dancing and snapping his fingers as he continued down the street.
“Oh my God, Charlene, look!! It’s Tight Pants!!” a woman started waving frantically, and it appeared she might be having a slight panic attack. He shot her a winning smile and continued on his way, his earlier nightmare fading fast. He’d known they were wrong so many years ago. Tight was right! He had just needed time to perfect it.
“Everybody’s lookin’ at my tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!” he cheerily continued, sauntering gallantly into downtown Truth or Consequences. People cheered, screamed, and even fainted as he grooved and gyrated down the street. Traffic continued to try parting for him, but it was more difficult now, as traffic was heavier, and his evocative movements distracted some drivers, causing several minor accidents as he headed along, though nobody seemed particularly upset about it.
Across the street, on the sidewalk, almost invisible compared to Tight Pants, another man stood. A man who had scoffed at Tight Pants so many years ago, back when he still had a name, before his legacy, no, his Legend, had consumed him. Now Tight Pants had won the hearts and minds of all residents, and the man was alone. A man who seethed and boiled with jealous hatred.
“I’m the only guy in town wearin’ tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on! I’m the kinda guy wearin’ tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!” sang Tight Pants, as more men cheered and more women swooned.
The second man glowered balefully at the dancing miscreant; this role reversal would go on no longer. He would have his revenge. The man stalked away before Tight Pants could see him. The element of surprise was crucial in usurping the indomitable power Tight Pants so clearly wore.
- - - - -
His name was Jimmy. Not Tight Pants, the other guy. The one mad at Tight Pants. You know, for stealing his thunder. Try to pay attention, would you? I mean, seriously, why am I even narrating this shit if you’re not even going to follow along? You paying attention? Yeah? You sure you can afford to? Never mind, I’ll be asleep by the time you get that one. Anyway, continuing on,
His name was Jimmy. And he had had enough of Tight Pants’ antics. Soon, he would not be the only guy in town wearin’ tight pants. He laughed a dark, guttural laugh, the timbre of someone who had once had everything, and was forced to let it go, but no longer. After a series of unethical experiments, his pants, his tightest pants, were ready.
For Jimmy was a scientist, both mad and angry, and had created pants so tight, they would bond with him on the molecular level. Yes, soon Tight Pants would be nothing, and Jimmy would inherit the crown. He would command the affection of the townsfolk, and his name would be sung in the streets. “Yes…”
He donned the pants, knowing they would become a part of him. He hadn’t considered that they would consume him. Corrupt him. Compel him to seek out and challenge Tight Pants immediately, before he was ready. Jimmy watched in horror as his body betrayed him, commanded at the behest of his genetically engineered tightest pants, and marched through the wall next to his door, and down the street, dancing and grand-gesturing his way to downtown Truth or Consequences, as shattered wall studs fell out of the hole, now strewn with drywall dust and debris.
- - - - -
“It’s- it’s working!!” Jimmy exclaimed, as people began to clamor around him in hopes of high fives or a winning smile. “Everyone… everyone…” Jimmy looked up to see Tight Pants dancing only ten feet away from where he, himself, was dancing. “Everyone in town likes my tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!!”
Tight Pants’ dancing slowed to a confused, uneasy bobbing, as the impostor began to steal the affection of those gathered around them. “People wouldn’t lie about my tight pants,” the counterfeit continued. “I got my tight pants; I got my tight pants on!”
The screaming and random traffic accidents were now definitely happening more frequently around Jimmy than Tight Pants. The man who had overcome so much in gym class was watching his hard work – his birthright – being stripped away from him. Now it was he who sailed a sea boiling in anger just beneath his flesh.
“I can dance real low, I can dance real high, I can sleep real well knowin’ I’m the only guy wearin’ tight pants, I got my tight pants, and I’m the only one!” Jimmy belted out, his face twisted in horror as the tighter pants compelled him to sing. He saw now that what he had set out to do was wrong, heartless, even, but the pants would not relent. He saw the heartbreak in Tight Pants’ eyes. The man was broken, and it was his fault.
Tears welled up in Tight Pants’ eyes. It was happening all over again. He would be disgraced, and forced to leave Truth or Consequences again, probably forever this time. But then, his resolve redoubled. No, dammit. This was his birthright. This guy was clearly an impostor. He was the one people woke up early to see, not this two-bit knockoff!
“Hey, slow down there, old friend,” Tight Pants began, still trying to retain the upbeat atmosphere, as the onlookers were still cheering and clapping. No reason to force this guy to suffer as he had if he would just step away gracefully. “You say people are talking about your tight pants down at the local five and dime?” he inquired, though he already knew the answer. “Well, I find that hard to believe, since I live in this town and everyone I know is talking about my tight pants.”
“Well,” Jimmy began to involuntarily retort. He fought it with all his might, but the tighter pants squeezed the words out of him. “I talked to Mayor Grimble the other day, and he declared my pants the tightest in the land!” he finished with a forced flourish.
But Tight Pants had had enough. He towered over Jimmy, and his glare became so intense that even the genetically engineered abom-pants-nation froze. “Now you listen to me, you sick son of a bitch,” Tight Pants commanded, instantly silencing the adulations of the onlookers. An eerie quiet settled in on downtown Truth or Consequences. “I don’t know who you are, or where you came from, but I’m the only one in this town that can wear tight pants. You got it?!” he didn’t know what had come over him, but the rage wasn’t yet satisfied. Tight Pants pressed more aggressively. “I will end you!” he threatened. “Don’t wake the snake!”
Tight Pants began hissing at Jimmy, much to the surprise and horror of the crowd. Some laughed uncomfortably, thinking perhaps Tight Pants was playing a poorly executed joke. Nobody had ever seen him so riled up. Murmurs began to spread; perhaps he was so insecure about his identity that he would resort to murder to dissuade anymore impersonators.
“You drinkin’ my sake, kimosabe?!” Tight Pants demanded, moving further into Jimmy’s personal space. The intensity of Jimmy’s fear overwhelmed the biological AI in his tighter pants, frying the circuitry. Mercifully, Jimmy was freed from their iron grip. He didn’t care that Tight Pants was posturing like a maniac; all that mattered was that his mad experiment was over, and that he was his own man again.
“Rock and rolla, Ayatollah,” Jimmy conceded, raising his hands up in a sign of surrender. “I guess I’ll find a new town,” he didn’t need to add that it would do him some good to start with a clean slate; it didn’t need to be said. Tight Pants was happy, and he was free. That was all that mattered.
“Everybody’s talkin’ bout my tight pants, I got my tight pants, I got my tight pants on!”
The song continued behind him as Jimmy walked away, and he could hear the renewed fervor of the crowd and their cheers of approval. He smiled. He didn’t need to be Tight Pants. Tight Pants was a hero. Tight Pants… was a legend.
He’d seen the legend. Talked to it. Been a part of it. That was enough for him. Being a legend, it turned out, wasn’t for Jimmy. No, he’d be content to just tell the tale around the world, or maybe just around New Mexico.
Either way, the Legend of Tight Pants was only beginning…
- - - - -
Character name: Magus (alias)
Character’s real name: Janus
Character source: Chrono Trigger
Character history:
The Kingdom of Zeal circa 12,000 BC was a time of the highest magic and technology. Suspended in the clouds by powerful examples of both, the floating islands that made up the lands of the kingdom separated the nobles in the sky from the commoners on the surface below in the most literal division of classes history had ever seen. Zeal was a place of advanced flying machines and wonders such as the Ocean Palace, a place of incredible technology resting at the bottom of the ocean, accessible only via teleportation from the Zeal Palace.
Born in 12,008 BC to Queen Zeal, Prince Janus lived a harsh life. After the suicide of King Zeal, Janus’ mother was driven mad by her lust for power. A strong introvert due in part to personality and circumstance, Janus was cold and distant, much like his mother, close only to his pet cat Alfador and his sister, Schala.
Considered by many to be a pariah due to his apparently limited magical ability and aloof personality, most felt Janus a ‘troubled’ child, and few were eager to befriend a child that the ruthless Queen seemed to detest.
Janus’ sister, however, was unimaginably powerful, second only to their mother, and went to great lengths to care for him. She was his only pillar of support and the only one with whom he conversed regularly. Schala was also the only one who realized how deeply in tune with magic Janus really was, but could do little about it without risking the Queen’s reprisal.
When she was forced to leave to work on an extended experiment with their mother, Janus became angry and disowned Queen Zeal, both furious at his mother’s increasingly risky and unethical practices for acquiring more power and heartbroken to be left with no one but his cat.
In truth, Queen Zeal had developed a machine to feed off of the most powerful force of nature that had ever or would ever exist. The ‘Mammon Machine,’ as she called it, fed directly off of the power of Lavos, a creature which had crashed into the earth during its prehistory and burrowed to its core, feeding off of the planet and all the life on it, all the while shaping and guiding evolution for millions of years.
Unfortunately, Lavos fed on the feedback created by Queen Zeal, Schala, and the other magical masters, and awoke more powerful than ever, unleashing an apocalypse. The floating Kingdom of Zeal was obliterated, as was much of the world below.
The feedback created by the Mammon Machine thrust Janus and the masters into portals through time, leaving the others to weather the armageddon.
Janus found himself in the middle ages, a place of swords and superstitions, 580 BC in his world. He was beset by monsters known as Mystics, and was forced to defend himself with magic, which was thought to have died out among humans ages ago. One of the creatures, Ozzie, saw the potential in Janus’ abilities, and despite being a mage himself, recognized that the boy could easily surpass him one day.
Rather than slaughter the child, Ozzie took him in and raised him, training Janus in the arts of magic and refining his abilities until the day that he could become the Fiendlord of the races of the Mystics. Janus took the name ‘Magus’ in reference to the indomitable magical power he then wielded.
In the twenty years he spent in the backwards middle ages, Magus hadn’t simply become more powerful, but hateful and vengeful of Lavos and his mother for what they had done to his sister. Magus thought of Schala always, and became consumed with his desire slay the monster.
To this end, Magus used his position as Fiendlord to acquire and consolidate power, and engaged in much posturing to cultivate his following among Mystics as a God-King. Though originally unwilling, Magus led his generals in full-fledged war against the Kingdom of Guardia in order to acquire more power and to further deify himself.
Part of him knew that it was also partly out of spite. The people of Guardia thought him a Mystic himself since he was so closely associated with them and could practise magic. Worse yet, his extended exposure to dark magic had twisted his appearance, draining the color from his flesh and twisting his ears into elf-like points, and shifting the hue of his eyes from vibrant green to fiery scarlet. They treated him with the same disdain that the nobility of Zeal had when he was a boy.
The war went well for Magus and his generals. Battle after battle ended in disaster for Guardia, and eventually the kingdom was forced to send their greatest knight, Sir Cyrus, and his squire Glenn, to do battle with Magus himself.
Though Cyrus wielded the Masamune, a legendary sword and the only weapon available to the forces of Guardia capable of breaking Magus’ magical defenses, the Fiendlord bested Cyrus in single combat, murdering him and breaking the sword.
The squire tried to avenge the knight, and Magus disdainfully transformed him into an anthropomorphic frog and kicked him over the edge of a waterfall for the amusement of Ozzie, who had watched the confrontation with Magus and Sir Cyrus.
Now with Guardia heavily on the defensive, Magus focused all of his attention on summoning Lavos within the heart of his keep. He had hoped the harbinger of defeat would leave Guardia powerless to interrupt him, but two warriors accompanied by Glenn the Frog managed to breach his castle’s defenses and enter his summoning chamber.
Glenn, armed with a repaired Masamune, confronted Magus, forcing him to engage in battle with he and his allies. Shockingly, Glenn and his allies were not only able to match him, but had somehow acquired magical talent of their own, though Magus had never once encountered a human other than himself in this time with the ability.
The combined assault of three magic-infused warriors coupled with the incredible mental exertion of holding the summoning spell was too much for the Fiendlord, and Glenn overpowered him, shattering his defenses and wounding him with the legendary sword.
The frog boorishly gloated that he’d prevented Magus from creating Lavos, prompting the arch mage to explain that the creature already existed. His concentration broken, Lavos began to awaken. Magus tried to will it back to sleep, but was interrupted by a massive temporal distortion, which cast he and the three warriors through another gate through space and time.
To his elation, Magus found himself back in his own time just a few months before he had originally been displaced to the middle ages, and the warriors who had defeated him were noticeably absent. He wasted no time making his way back to Queen Zeal, but not before disguising himself in heavy, opulent robes in order to present himself as a great and powerful oracle.
It was easy for him to gain the trust of his power-hungry mother. By making prediction after prediction of the events he had already lived through once before, his reputation as a mighty Prophet spread throughout the kingdom.
It didn’t take long for Queen Zeal to bring him along with Schala and the masters into the Ocean Palace to see the Mammon Machine. It was a difficult time for Magus, who was forced to remain in disguise and not reveal himself to his sister, though every part of him yearned to do so. Still, he knew if he did not confront and kill Lavos when his mother summoned it, he may have risked losing Schala forever. He continued playing his part instead, biding his time.
As he expected, Glenn’s allies arrived, and Magus was able to use his station as a Prophet to easily have the intruders executed. Schala, however, intervened, pleading for their lives to be spared. Unable to hurt his sister, Magus agreed, and banished them through a temporal gate, forcing Schala to seal it behind them.
However, the warriors annoyingly found another way back into 12,000 BC, and arrived again to interrupt the activation of the Mammon Machine, this time moments too late. Lavos was awakened and almost immediately, Queen Zeal attacked Schala who had attempted to reason with her, and leapt upon Lavos, seemingly able to will it to attack and defeat the time traveling warriors.
Magus chose that time to reveal himself, and he, too, was struck down by Lavos before it drained him of much of his power. One of the time travelers, Crono, managed to push himself to his feet and sacrificed himself to give Schala enough time to infuse magic into her pendant to send Magus and Crono’s allies out of the Ocean Palace, but not enough for her to spare herself.
History was forced to repeat itself, and Lavos erupted out of the crust of the earth to rain down apocalyptic destruction, once again erasing the Kingdom of Zeal and decimating the people who lived below.
Contemplating suicide, Magus was confronted at a cliff near the only surviving human settlement on the planet by Glenn and his friends. He took the opportunity to reveal himself as Janus Zeal, and explain his motivations, before giving Glenn the opportunity to face him in a final battle to the death.
Instead, Glenn showed remarkable chivalry and invited Magus to join them in their quest to defeat Lavos. Incensed at his most recent failure, and at the prospect that Schala may have been killed, Magus didn’t hesitate to join, and adventured with the group for a long time.
Finally, the time came, and they traveled forward in time to the day Lavos emerged from the core of the earth. After a long, protracted and bloody battle, Magus finally stood victorious. With his new allies, they were able to strike the monster dead. He watched it squirm and thrash in its death throes, roaring its hideous, guttural roar that didn’t simply reverberate around him, it seemed to pierce through him, but he watched it die.
And it was right then, right then that he was thrown through another portal.
Stats:
ATK: 4
DEF: 0
SPD: 2
TEC: 4
Starting Proficiencies:
Ranged Proficiency
Debilitate Proficiency
Starting Powers:
Telekinesis
![[Image: Magus.jpg]](http://rpnexus.com/sig/miscsig/Magus.jpg)
![[Image: yoSwTJV.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/yoSwTJV.gif)