Me v. Devour confirmed.

I haven't seen Cruel since the end of Round 2. Does anyone know where he went off to?

Unsure. Will drop him if I can't contact him.

Considering nobody's seen or heard from Cruel, I think the best suggestion is to drop him as well and just pit SpacePunk and I against each other.

Also, where's Richard and The Org? They haven't confirmed yet?

Quote from Boomerang

Considering nobody's seen or heard from Cruel, I think the best suggestion is to drop him as well and just pit SpacePunk and I against each other.

Also, where's Richard and The Org? They haven't confirmed yet?

I was actually waiting to see if Richard would confirm but I might as well

Confirming against RichardLongflop. Engage.

I was waiting on Org. Plus I don't think I confirmed in the first BoG round, nobody minded that.

Anyone got tragedy hints? No clue how to do this.

Quote from RichardLongflop

I was waiting on Org. Plus I don't think I confirmed in the first BoG round, nobody minded that.

Anyone got tragedy hints? No clue how to do this.

Sad story. *shrug*

Quote from RichardLongflop

Anyone got tragedy hints? No clue how to do this.

I've always thought tragedy to be more focused on some type of loss, whether it be the death of a main character's loved one or an old well-cherished lifestyle. The possibilities are endless, though there are a few overused themes within the genre (which is not surprising in the least). Hope this helps.

If I missed anything important, somebody please let me know (in a politer tone, of course).

Quote from RichardLongflop

Anyone got tragedy hints? No clue how to do this.

Apparently, I wrote a tragedy story when I wanted to do horror; Make the main character's situation bad, give them hope, take it away, repeat
or start of good then get progressively worse.

Oh, great. Gonna be all I can to try and not turn this into some cheesy shitey sob story. Blagh.

Edit: Over and done with.

Alright guys, getting to the home stretch here. My stories all finished--How far are all of you peoples?

was from when I was 10, the time he found me hiding at the top of the oak tree.

He was 17, and for a while we never really talked. We were from different generations--He made top marks in school and was the popular jock, while I was small, skinny and never really knew how to hold my own. My parents didn’t help matters at all. They weren’t around to teach me to be a man, and when they were I was smacked around and told I was nothing but dirt. John dealt with same torment on a daily basis, but he had learned the remedy to deal with emotions...something I hadn’t mastered. I looked up to him even then, but he never noticed.

It was a sunny spring day, the rough bark was warm against my bare arm. I sat at a particularly large branch and looked up to the blue skies, allowing myself to be washed in warmth. The oak tree was the height of my house and thick around the base, but I had always been an agile kid. I could make it to the top of the tree in 30 seconds flat. The tree was a few blocks from my house, and I always came up here. Partially because I loved the sun in my face, and partially because I wanted my parents to search for me. I wanted to know that they cared enough to come find me.

When I saw the figure walking toward me, I hoped that it was my mother or father. It turned out that it was John. He looked up at me, narrowing his eyes as a scowl formed on his face, “Matt?”

I said nothing and stared back down at him, and John continued with an exasperated sigh, “What are you doing up there, Matt?”

I was still too surprised to speak. I never expected John to come look for me--Much less notice I was up here. I looked down at the ground and stood up from the large tree branch, “Get down from there right now!”

As quickly as I could, I descended the tall oak tree and looked up at him. He was at least a foot and a half taller than me, and he had a larger, more muscular build. There was a furiousity in his eyes as he stared down at me. He opened his mouth to say something and I flinched; I’ve dealt with my father enough to know that after a yell comes a vicious backhand. John seemed to notice this, and instead of yelling, he let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders and running a hand through his hair.

He placed a firm hand on my frail shoulder, “Matt, you can’t run off like that, okay? You could...you could really hurt yourself,” John shook his head, “You know mom and dad aren’t gonna come looking, and this is the first time I actually saw you leave. Next time you might fall...or get kidnapped or, I don’t know, something!”

My shock had worn off and I nodded, swallowing hard, “You came looking for me?”

John scoffed, “Of course I did, you’re my brother! I have to look after you, in fact…” His frown turned into a small smile, “Why don’t you stick with me? From now on, I mean. At least then I know you’ll be safe.”

My eyes lit up. I never thought I’d ever hear those words from him--He seemed to be such a far away mystery to me. He was always like a celebrity, someone you wanted to know but never got a chance to. I nodded feverishly, “Okay!”

John turned, putting an arm around me and guiding me down the road, “Let’s get home, I’ll make you something to eat.”

****

It was from that moment on that I came to my brother with any problems that I had. He would wipe my tears when kids made fun of me, and make me laugh after dad would smack us around or mom would call me a disgrace. I spent sleepless nights in his room, just talking about random things--Girls, school, video games, you name it.

Further down the line, John became the one who made sure I ate. He made sure I was okay, and that I had clothes on my back. When he turned 19 and graduated (He failed 7th grade), he made sure I was able to sit in the audience to watch the ceremony. By this point, mom and dad barely were around in the morning before running off to get drunk, high and party, so I was the only one in my family that watched him get his diploma. When he moved into his new home, I still came to his house every day to eat and shower considering we had no food and no hot water.

Eventually, our neighbors finally figured out about my parents. Whether it was me walking out of my house every day and not returning til the morning, their drunken tirades, or the bruises on my face, child protective services were eventually knocking on my door. At first, I did what any 12 year old abused kid would do; I lied. But, also like any other 12 year old abused kid, I told the truth pretty quickly. They told me that I wasn't allowed to be with my parents anymore, and that I was to be put in a foster home, effective immediately. Before they do any of that, however, they look for family members to take in. I had nobody, except for my big brother John.

He later told me that there was no thought into it. He immediately said yes, no matter the stress it would put on himself. He made the spare room in his apartment into my very own bedroom, and bought all types of different sheets and furniture for me--Also all the food I could eat. During the days he was in college, and during the nights he was working at McDonalds to make a decent living for us. I didn't know then how much we were truly struggling from the very beginning, he had never told me.

The house was pretty decent compared to the shack I was living in with my parents, who had decisively left the picture after my brother took me in. They didn't even try to work to get me back, they probably thought it was more freedom to them. I looked around John's house and saw cleaned floors, bright lights and comfortable carpets and furniture. It was complete contrast to the lack of hot water and hot food, mangy carpets, torn apart furniture and floors I couldn't even see. I felt like I was in a better place there.

****

The worst decision I had ever made in my life was made under that very same oak tree that John had found me in. One of the kids in my grade had begun hanging around me in Sophomore year. I didn't have many friends, and I was feeling particularly upset. My 16th birthday marked three years since my parents had ever spoken to me, and after John got out of college he began working a full time job at a business firm. He no longer had time for those sleepless nights, or the patience for my complaints. It left me with a not-so-old reminder of my parents, and how they had neglected me. Even though in the back of my mind I knew John's reasons were pure, it still hit home and left me vulnerable. I had felt irreversibly alone when that he sat with me in my class and was friendly toward me.

Turns out, he was a rich kid who was popular. I suddenly began to have more 'friends', if you could call it that. When I wasn't stuck in my house, I was in his. This became a routine thing, either I'd be at his house or he'd be in mine, which incidentally wasn't too far away from my old house. I started to wonder why John didn't give me all the things that Troy got--It never crossed my mind that Troy's parents were just in a better position than us financially. It began the slow process of me taking things for granted because I liked to look at what others had in envy.

We had been walking down the block when I came across that oak tree. It was winter, so the tree had been left completely barren. The sun had begun to set and gave the sky a bright orange-red hue. The kid eyed me closely, hands in his pockets, "Listen, Matt...I know you've been stressed, with your brother being busy and all," His eyes darted around the empty street as he exhaled, puffs of smoke emerging from his mouth as hot air met bitter cold, "I think you should just let go of that stress--Have some fun, y'know?"

I raised an eyebrow as my friend shifted back and forth, looking straight at me as he ran a hand through his greasy black hair, "What do you mean?" I asked.

He dug around in the hand still in his coat pocket. He pulled out a bottle of prescription pills, handing them to me. I stared at them in my palm for a long time--Oxycotin, something typical a spoiled rich kid could get. He spoke once again, "When my mom broke her arm they gave her these--I started taking them. They really mellow you out."

"Troy, this--" I clenched them in my hand, shaking my head, "This is a really bad idea."

"Aw, come on!" He grinned mischievously, patting me on the shoulder, "Just take two of em and see how great you feel. You won't even have to buy the pills, man, I'll just give you some of mine I get from my dealer from time to time."

I frowned, running my finger along the base of the pill bottle. I shook it in my hand, there were only a few left in the bottle. The brittle wind blew past me, causing me to shiver under my own skin. Troy continued on, "Matt, I'm telling you, man. This'll make you forget all about John and your parents."

Troy took the bottle from me and popped open the cap. He carefully tilted it over, letting two fall into his palm before closing the bottle back up. He put the bottle in one of my hands and the two pills in the other, "Just try it," He sung.

Against my better judgement, I shoved the two pills in my mouth and swallowed hard, placing the pill bottle in my pocket. I decided that I'd try it, just for my one true friend. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to me, right? Troy patted me on the shoulder and chuckled, putting an arm around me as he guided me down the street--The same way John had done what seemed like so long ago.


----

Matt was a good kid. He wasn't perfect, but he knew right from wrong. He had morals. So why he started to hang out with those spoiled brats from his school was beyond me. At first, I blamed myself. I had been working overtime for months--Any time I was home, Matt only ever saw me up to my nose in paperwork and irritable. He was feeling lonely, and it left him vulnerable to those bad influences. He started taking the things we had for granted, as if I wasn't working hard enough to put food on the table. It took me a long time to realize that it wasn't my fault...But it wasn't his either. Matt was a damn good kid.

It started small. Matt started going out with his friends once a week, then three times, then every day if he could. Most of the time, it was without my permission while I was working. He'd delete the voicemails that said he had been absent from school, and would always run to the mailbox. I never knew that he was hiding his interim reports and teacher complaints--At least until I got to the mail first one day. It showed all of his grades. He had straight A's in the first and second quarters, but now with the third quarter over he had Four D's, two F's and a C; to put it into perspective, the C was in Gym.

I waited for him to come home from his friends house, my rage growing with each passing minute on the clock. He had grown prone to staying out late, and the smell of alcohol and pot from his room told me he wasn't always at Troy's house--And if he was, he was partying. I hadn't confronted him about it yet, but I figured now would be the time to. I decided his antics had to stop.

Matt didn't walk up the driveway until a few minutes after midnight. I watched the headlights of a car come to our house, stop, and honk as it drove off. Matt waved, a huge grin on his face. He stumbled down the gravel walkway, and when he opened the door, he nearly fell to the floor, catching himself against the wall. He narrowed his eyes at me, frowning softly, "Wah....What are you doing up?" He hiccuped, covering his mouth.

My eyes must have shown him just how serious the situation was. His expression sobered up, but only slightly. I could tell by his dilated pupils that he was drunk, "I know it's late, John, but I can--"

I threw the report card down on the table, face-up and opened, showing his grades. Matt gave it a once-over and then blinked, his eyes widening as I walked a step closer to him, "What the FUCK is this, Matt?" He was silent, staring at me, "Don't just stare at me like I have two heads!"

Matt put a hand in front of him as if telling me to calm down, "Schools just been really hard after the first semester, John. I'm sorry--"

I slammed my hand on the table, causing him to flinch, "You come into this house drunk nearly every day, you skip school, and now you're failing or nearly failing all of your classes? You're making all the bad choices you can possibly make!"

Matt scowled, "Well you haven't been helping any!" He threw his hands out in exasperation, struggling a bit to balance himself before continuing, "All you ever do is work, work, work! And you know what we get in return? NOTHING. Still just getting by."

"You think I wouldn't like for us to have a giant mansion and a bunch of cars like all of your spoiled friends?" I gritted my teeth, "I make sure you have food in your stomach and a roof over your head. What more do you want?"

Matt scoffed, turning away from him and shaking his head, "You're giving me a headache."

"Maybe it's because you're drunk."

"Well I wouldn't need to get drunk if I didn't feel like I was alone all the damn time!" Matt retorted.

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair, "You know...I never thought I'd see you become a spoiled brat."

"And I never thought I'd see you become JUST LIKE MOM AND DAD."

I didn't mean what was going to happen next. I didn't even realize I was doing it. One second, he was standing in front of me, looking up at me and spitting venom. The next moment, he was on the ground, grabbing his cheek as I smacked him clean across the face. I stared at my hand for a moment, my expression going from anger to shock. My breathing grew ragged as Matt stared at me with fiery green eyes.

"Matt, I..." He stood upright. The slap had sobered him up as tears welled in his eyes. He turned around opening the door and stomping outside. I followed him to the door, still holding my hand in front of me, "Matt, I didn't mean to!"

I walked out, watching him sprint down the street, "Matt, wait! MATT!"

****

An hour passed and I must have called his phone at least fifty times. I left him a voicemail each time, apologizing emphatically, begging him to come back home. He shouldn't be out by himself at one in the morning. I felt the tears roll down my face, my heart rate increase, and my body grow numb. If anything happened to him, it would have been my fault. I should have kept my emotions in check.

As I paced the kitchen, I eventually decided that I needed to go find my little brother. I grabbed my coat and scarf and walked out of the door. I didn't bother to lock the door--I didn't even bother to take my keys. I needed to drive to work tomorrow and I only had enough gas to take me there and back--Plus, I figured that Matt had gone to Troy's, which wasn't too far.

I walked down the lonely street with no lamps and no guarantee for my safety, exhaling softly. The only light came from the full moon up above, illuminating the path in front of me. I was able to see that tall oak tree from a few blocks away, and I decided that I should check it out. The oak tree had become a sort of safe haven from Matt, ever since he was a kid; If he wasn't at Troy's, he'd definitely be there.

I kept my hands firmly in the pockets of my jacket as I walked toward the tree. I turned my head back and forth, looking for his short and skinny figure. I allowed a faint smile at the thought of this tree--It reminded me of the time when Matt was just an innocent kid.

On a whim, I took out my phone and called Matt one more time. The incessant ringing in my ear that had grown tedious over the course of an hour and a half caused me to flinch. I waited with cold breath under the base of the tree. There was a click, and then his annoyed voice. My expression was washed with relief as he scowled, "What do you want, John?"

I went to respond, but was interrupted by a deadly voice, "Give me your money, asshole."

I turned around to see a kid, probably no older than Matt, standing in front of me. His eyes were alert and his bo

Well since my computer's RAM is fucked up, I had to move to a loaner. So I'm going to start over, instead of waiting to get my computer back, in case it takes too long.

Update:
Cruel has been dropped.
I don't know. I need to find a replacement, lol.

No you don't error, I've been telling you this.

Both Rokon and Cruel dropped so just bring the pool of competition down to an even 14