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Week Nine! For anyone who doesn't know: this will thread will contain a week's worth of writing exercises to be completed each day. I'll give out 5 points per regular exercise, 10 points per bonus exercise, and 15 per "super bonus" exercises. You may do as few or as many of the exercises as you want. Anyone is allowed to join up at any time, but please let me know in a PM if you want to be added to our tag and scoring list.  

Our goal here: Ultimately, fun, but I very strongly believe that the encouragement of your peers, a little friendly competition, and some light-goal setting combined with consistent practice is an excellent path to becoming a better writer.

ONE IMPORTANT RULE: DO NOT REPLY TO ANY OTHER WRITER'S POST. I will indicate where to reply to post your work and if you want to praise a fellow writer, please do it in the appropriate "feedback thread" that I posted. We don't want writing posts locked here, it isn't fair to people who want to edit later.

This week's theme is "Battlefield Blues." As Malkalack and Starky have pointed out, lot of writers seem to have trouble writing fight scenes, so that's exactly what we're going to focus on next. As I've made a point of leading a few weeks into others in the interest of showing the connections between concepts, we'll be borrowing from the past week's inspiration.

Today will be simple. If you created 'the hero' on week seven and 'the villain' on week eight, write a scene about the two of them fighting against each other for the first time. (If you did not make a hero or villain, you can make them up here, but do add some sort of explanation as to why they're fighting, because they are not set up as characters here yet.)

You can have them use whatever weapons or powers you want, or they can fight empty handed if you prefer, but it must be a violent confrontation and it must be one-on-one. While narrating, choose one character's perspective and try to be clear on the actions narrated. A confusing mess is not enjoyable to read.

Bonus: Write the scene again, from the opposite character's perspective, and add a twist that they are aware of and their opponent isn't.

Note: No, I haven't forgotten about last week's scoring, but I do not feel well today and I would have to go back and re-read every entry on weeks seven and eight as I scored them. I will do it soon, just not right now. 

@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Wolfmist @bjhovey @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74 @WarriorCatsRPStories @Confused @jamescoker1226 @pinkalily21 @NeoTheCreator @jaryeth @DerpBacon @Penworth @Loki @clayton_97 @Starky

Please remember, reply only to the individual exercise when posting for the sake of clarity during judging and to prevent locking other members' posts. Thank you. ^^

"No, it's MY alphabet-blocks!"  Little Timmy screamed, tears and snot running down his plump face which was contorted with rage. He stared in anger at his supposed "friend", Billy, who was rapidly scrambling away. He picked up a plastic dinosaur and bawled his fists.

Billy gazed at him in horror, and attempted to scramble away on all fours, to the relative safety of Mrs. Hamilton, who was chatting on the phone. He squealed as Timmy grabbed his foot, and dragged him backwards. He feebly tried to grab at the carpet with racecars on it, but his little hands found no purchase. Instead, he reached out for a plastic car, and swung it back at Timmy's nose. The cartilage  broke with a satisfying crunch.

Timmy reeled back, clutching at his face, before grabbing a plastic wrench from the "Mommy's Little Construction Man" set, and swinging it in a vicious overhand arc at Billy's face. Billy rolled out of the way, earning himself a scab on his tiny elbow. Billy staggered to his feet, and feebly tried to swing the toy truck at Timmy, only to have it blocked by the foam block. Timmy backhanded Billy in the face with the foam block, knocking the opposing boy back on his posterior.

It was then that Timmy leaped onto Billy, bashing at his face with the plastic wrench until it was bent out of shape. He grabbed Billy by his Barney T-shirt, and dragged him across the room, before flinging Billy into a box of Legos, which promptly spilled out over him.

Timmy was scolded a lot that day, but he knew who the true victor was.

Arrows flew past my face, barely missing me. A guttural, painful screech told that the arrow had found a mark. 

"No time." I whispered to myself as it became evident that we were on a losing ground.

The general told us not to spare any of the rebels. What he conveniently left out was the fact that the rebels had the better ground. I had marched my troops right into a dead zone. No knowledge of the terrain, no possible advantage other than our training. 

"Regroup, you ignorant fools. Around me!" My general called to us.

I motioned to my troops to obey the command, and I covered their retreat.

There was a break in rank on their side, and with a loud thundering, a cavalry rider came barreling toward me.

"James! Fern, get your miserable ass out of the way!" General yelled to me.

The rider stopped, but I did not. I had no intent on allowing a rider to decimate my men. I once again brandished my mace, and hefted the mighty Order shield and strode over to the empty area around him.

" Fern! What the hell are you doing?!" General yelled.

"Get your man to safety. Get them out of here." I said calmly.

I looked to see a small detachment of Methras, Nathan, Xander, and August stay and fight them off of the open field. A thrust from the hooded figure broke my reverie, causing me to come back to reality.

Blow for blow we matched each other, blocking and swinging. He fought like a wounded savage, one that knew death was close at hand. The method of my mentor reverberated through my body like second nature. Parry, parry, parry, dodge, parry, strike, repeat.

He went for a broad swing, and at the moment I went to parry it, he landed a strike on my leg. I did not care, I only looked over to August, silently inquiring if the army had been able to retreat. He nodded.

"I care not for victory, I care for life." I said, stopping the fight and backing up. 

The others did the same, and we were just barely in sight when the man removed his hood. The sight of his haunted face jolted me. I had been in battle with him.

Ben Heren.

Wupwupwupwupwup...

Wenceslas's arm, a sort of whip-like appendage sprouting from his left palm, was warbling in the air as though it were a dog's tail.  The fact was, though, was that Wenceslas was not excited; he was terrified.  Standing but a few yards was a lady with quite the figure, white hair and liquid-gold eyes and dark complexion, that screamed danger to his senses.  Her arm, what Augustus had cited as "Kamacite", moved extremely quickly for its cumbersome size and strength.  Yet, it seemed that even her fleshy arm was heavier than her other appendage.

The problem in this little melee was that Wenceslas had no dexterity, or little to compare to that of the woman's.  Sure, he could slap in her generally direction, but the three...

Let's try it agai-

WHAM!

Count that as the fourth time the lady had just grabbed the tendril and tugged him in.  Four bruises, and fourth time's the charm.  Coughing as Wenceslas stumbled back, the lady seemed to fall forward for a moment, but a boost from her right foot launched her right over his head.

WHAM!

Squealing like the little ten-year old as he was, Wenceslas fell to the floor at the fifth punch she made to his abdomen.  The ground certainly wasn't inviting for his face either, but there was no time to groan and moan.

The tendril grasped a tree and tugged, pulling him out of what would've been the metal arm's grasp just in the nick of time.  Landing with a loud thump, the boy coughed as he released his grip on the tree to look back...

...right into the lady's stomach.  Damn, she was tall.

"Feel like giving up, kiddo?"

"...I want to."

"But you're not!"

With that sort of reply, Wenceslas was given little time to react to the vaguely comical quip before he was kneed in the chest, or thigh'd in the chin...YOU'RE TEN YEARS OLD WENCESLAS, GET YOURSELF BACK TOGETHER.

The boy shook his head and wheezed again before he crossed his arms against yet another knee strike, and then another and another and another...

What kind of merciless barrage was this?  Was his wrist broken yet?

"I give! It hurts, STOP!" Wenceslas screamed, and just like that, she complied.

"See, now all you had to do was just tell me..."

The lady released her grip, dropping the kid to the floor, before squatting in front of him.  She rested her palms on his shoulder and gave him something like a bear-hug...oh GOD IT WAS HARD TO BREATHE.

"You're so kyute~!" she squealed as she began to wriggle him back and forth.  "You've got that...appendage to boot to- UMPH!"

The tendril on Wenceslas, as per the boy's wish to be freed, back-handed her away from him.  A young tree fell as she crashed into its trunk.

Gotta get out of here...go go go go gogogogogogo....

Adric paced nervously around the basketball court, shooting furtive glances at the looming school every few seconds. Clouds cast deep shadows along the still wet ground from the shower that afternoon. There was a slight breeze, but it wasn't too cold that Adric felt the need to wear long pants or a jumper. They only ever got in the way on the playground. 

Ever since kindergarten Adric had been picked on by this over-sized bully, and for the past month his other grade 3 classmates had started to become targets, too. When sweet, pretty, innocent little Lucia Steglenni was victimised today with a bottle of juice poured down the back of her frilly blue dress, Adric decided he could no longer remain idle. 

Enough was enough. 

He ran his sweaty palms over his spiky blonde hair and looked around for anything to use against his aggressor. He'd never done anything to hurt another kid before, not unless you count accidentally tripping Anthony C last year during a game of tag. 

He saw sticks and stones next to a muddy puddle nearby. If the stories were to be believed, they could do some serious damage. He leaned down and started looking for the biggest, smoothest rock he could find, when a large dark shadow enveloped him. He slowly turned and looked up. 

"You came," he said, gripping a rock behind his back as he stood to face his bully. 

Long blonde hair tied in two messy plaits fell over her broad shoulders. She was missing her front teeth and had a rip in the knee of her grey tracksuit pants. She was at least a head taller than Adric. 

"No one has ever asked me to meet them at the basketball court after school," said Mad Maggie, the meanest bully ever to set foot in Lynall Hall Primary School. 

Adric saw she was holding something behind her back. Did she also have a rock? Was she going to be the one to break his bones? "What's that?" he asked, cautiously. 

She visibly tensed. "I... Have something for you." 

Another knuckle sandwich, no doubt. Adric tightened his grip on the rock. 

As Mad Maggie shot her hands out, Adric swung the weight of the rock around. Maggie yanked her head back just in time, but Adric was ready.

He dropped to the ground and kicked her in the shin, hard. She fell forwards, yelling out in pain.

Thinking quickly, Adric scooped up a large handful of mud from the nearby puddle and dumped it onto the back of Mad Maggie's white polo shirt. 

"That's for Lucy!" he said in triumph. 

The bully stayed very still for a moment, face-down, hands comforting her shin, mud on her shirt. When she turned and stood up, there were tears in her eyes. 

She sniffled loudly, wiping her nose on the back of her arm. "You're... You're a stupid-head, Adric Small!" With a final shudder, she turned and ran from the basketball court. 

Adric grinned and thought about what he was going to tell Lucy tomorrow. He wiped his muddy hands on his shorts and noticed something crumpled on the ground where Mad Maggie had been seconds ago. Curious, he picked it up and smoothed it out. 

The hand-made card had a large red heart drawn on the front and the words "I'm sorry, let's be friends" inside. 

Adric swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked towards where Maggie had run, but no one was there. 

~BONUS~

Magnolia Clarke was a lonely girl. She'd always had trouble making friends because of her size, and everyone was scared of her ever since the first day of school when she fell and accidentally knocked Christopher Noone into a brick wall. He lost a tooth, and Magnolia lost any chance of making friends. She tried to get the attention of the very popular Adric Small, but he was always playing with a large group of kids and her attempts always backfired. When she'd tried walking up to him in the hall he'd suddenly opened his locker. Reacting quickly, she threw her hands up in defence, slamming the locker into Adric's face. She climbed a tree to watch him play soccer with that Anthony C kid one day, and slipped, falling right on top of him as he ran by. She tried to wave to him across the room during class, but he was always looking at that pretty Italian girl, Lucy. 

That day Magnolia had asked if she could sit and talk to Lucy at lunch. She'd said that she would rather eat lunch with an angry wasp. Red in the face, Magnolia had gotten up to leave, but Lucy had stuck out her leg as she walked past and she stumbled, spilling her juice down the back of Lucy's dress. Lucy started crying and Magnolia ran, knowing she'd be blamed. She was always blamed when something went wrong. 

She was standing in the hallway when Adric had walked up and told her to meet him at the basketball court after school. Maybe he had noticed her! They were going to meet, hold hands, get married and have a baby boy named Adric Junior. 

Excited, she ran to the library to make Adric a card, figuring there was no way that could possibly go wrong. She felt her cheeks flush as she decorated it with a big red heart and thought about handing it to Adric after school. When the bell rang she went to the bathrooms and tried to plait her hair the way her mother had showed her. After a few minutes she thought it looked pretty neat, and hurried off to the basketball courts. 

Adric was crouched on the floor looking at something. She walked up silently, not wanting to disturb him. She gripped the card behind her back, heart racing as she opened her mouth. 

Just as she was about to speak, he turned around. "You came," he said, standing and facing her. 

He looked so cute in his shorts and t-shirt, blonde hair shaved close to his head. He was the coolest boy in Lynall Hall Primary School. 

"No one has ever asked me to meet them at the basketball court after school," she said, trying to pronounce her words clearly around her missing front teeth. 

Adric looked at her. Did he know what she was going to say? Was he going to say the same thing? "What's that?" he asked. 

She felt her chest tighten. Now or never. "I... Have something for you." 

As she pulled out the card and held it in front of her face, Adric swung a rock from behind his back.

Magnolia yanked her head back just in time, but Adric dropped to the ground and kicked her in the shin, hard.

She fell forwards, yelling out in pain. He'd never hurt anyone before. Why was he hurting her? 

All of a sudden, she felt something cold and wet drop onto the back of her shirt and soak through. 

"That's for Lucy!" jeered Adric. 

Magnolia Clarke felt her face flush again, but for a different reason. Her shin ached, but not as bad as the ache in her heart. She turned and stood up, not caring that there were tears in her eyes. 

She sniffled loudly, wiping her nose on the back of her arm. "You're... You're a stupid-head, Adric Small!" she yelled with a shudder. Before she could say anything else to hurt the boy she cared so deeply for, she turned and ran from the basketball court, large wet tears streaking her cheeks. 

Annathia Rolannadra was still a little bit sane, having only killed six people previously, and the last one being at least two weeks ago. Of course, the killings brought it to the attention of a few local heroes, which she was currently driving away from. They had been getting annoying, sending her several emails and phone calls recently, telling her that she needed to either stop killing or to go fucking die in a hole.

She didn't chose to kill, as she pointed out several times. It just happened, though she would have preferred it if it didn't happen. That was also mentioned in her responses.

Did they listen? Nope. Did they actually make a move against her? Not until now, their lazy asses waiting for a month and a half after their first threat before actually attempting to get rid of her like real 'heroes'.

'They' were a small group of four unnatural things. A bit hypocritical, with her being an unnatural thing herself, but it was true.

There was a gal who resembled a dragon of sorts, with long spikes coming out of her head and back, three long fingers with claws, a long tail - though she was still clothed -, and had scales everywhere, but still looked humanoid, being about the same size and on two legs.

There was a guy who resembled a pixie, but was a bit small for even that and didn't have any sort of magic. By the looks of it, even if he were to stand on his toes, he would not be able to make it to two centimeters.

There was a guy who looked to be all too perfect in his features, and had a very hypnotizing voice. Annathia would have been convinced that he was a siren if it wasn't for the fact that he was a boy.

The fourth guy, of course, was a werewolf through and through, and was, as far as she could tell the leader and the only one that actually came to carry through the threat.

Of course, he wasn't very bright at all if she thought that confronting her at her house in the middle of the day was a good idea. Which was why she was driving instead of fighting at the moment. He did seem a bit baffled when Annathia shoved past him, into the daylight, and made a bee line for her car. Well, it was the night of the full moon tonight, so he'd be equally matched with her.

Jerking the steering wheel and slamming the brakes, she did a half donut into a field of wheat. Getting out of the car and leaving the keys in the ignition and the motor running, she ran, racing through the field and towards the forest on the other side.

Hearing tires screech on the road before turning into a rumble, signifying that he was doing the same thing she did, only make her heart pound faster. Wait, her heart pounding... good god, not again.

Groaning, she tried to ignore the thrashing of wheat behind her and the rapid ba-bump-ba-bump of her heart, but she could already feel the change coming.

Hunched over, her chest was expanding, ribs crackling as they lengthened. Nails were thickening, lengthening into claws. White skin was spouting black fur, and her white hair receding. Ears growing pointer and moving upwards. Face and limbs snapping and popping as bones rearranged themselves. Clothes tearing and falling away behind her, though the pants got caught on her ankles which caused her to stumble before shaking them off and taking off again. Canine teeth were fighting with vampire incisors for space in her jaw, the vampire part barely holding on in the daylight and not wanting to be left out. During this, she did not break stride but instead grew faster.

Behind her, she could hear the snapping and crackling of the bones of the werewolf guy. On the horizon, the moon was barely lifting out of it's slumber. Beside her, she passed the first tree of the little forest. Ahead was her destination, a small clearing of adequate space and privacy for fighting.

Pushing off heavier with one paw, she leapt into the clearing, and skidding around to face the werewolf guy when she landed. She looked at the werewolf's eyes for a moment, and that's when a strange thing happened. A little hop-skip behind the eyes of the hero leader. She could see herself hunched over and snarling, red eyes glaring, and looking like a demon. Startled, she tensed up, and she could see her own eyes widen and hear her growling falter, seeing her own muscles tensed while the owner of the eyes she was behind made a short noise that sounded a bit like laughing. She could sense a small bit of amusement, and a cold rage that wasn't her own. Just as suddenly, she was back behind her own eyes again.

Never fought another werewolf, eh? Don't you know how wolves communicate? How did you think that the wolves could run so seamlessly together, and hunt just as well while making barely a sound?

It looked like he smiled, as much as a wolf could smile, and leapt at her, claws outstretched. She jumped back with a bark, taking a defensive position. Her vision blurred for a moment, and she could sense him behind her eyes, that cold rage and amusement. Frantically, she tried mentally shoving him out, which didn't work so well. It caused her to have rather blurry vision while he straddled the line between returning behind his own eyes and being behind hers. Stopping, she pawed at her face, keeping an eye on wolf advancing. Of course, after she stopped trying to shove him out, he slipped out himself.

There's something different about you. A small fire of savage hunger starting, fangs, lack of knowledge of other werewolves. Even your scent has a bit of deadness to it.

He charged at her, and she dashed to the side, getting a nip on the tail. Wheeling around, he charged again, and she moved out of the way, this time earning a small bite to her backside. He turned around again, and started moving towards her.

What? Are you afraid of the big bad wolf?

That comment made her own anger flare up, and perhaps a bit of something else. Snarling, she also moved towards him, and made a grab for his throat. She got lucky, and her jaws closed around fur and flesh. He raked his claws across her chest, and struggled against being forced downwards. Buckling, he fell to his side, and widened his eyes. Another little hop-skip and she was behind his eyes, could sense the pain radiating from his throat, shock, and hopelessness. She watched as her jaws loosened their hold, and got yanked back behind her own eyes again as bones snapped and crackled, rearranging themselves into a more human form.

The moment she let go, he was running.

Timeless Men

There he was with a revolver in his hand. Justin, along with his wicked henchmen, stood in front of Aaron with a malevolent and cruel sneer on his lips. 

Aaron had finally found him. After weeks of searching, he finally found him. The problem was, the timing was wrong. Aaron, an old man in his sixties, was all alone. He didn't have anyone of his friends to back him up against Justin Shrike. And he knew all too well that Justin is capable and has often done evil things to get what he wants. In the past, Justin had threatened people, poisoned men with his words, and, if it came to it, even committed murder. And even more worse, Justin used the power over time that he had received to add more wickedness to his already malevolent way of living.

Aaron, knowing that he was out-numbered and that he simply had no chance to win a fight against these men now began speaking, "Justin, I've been searching for you for a long time. This power over time that we have both been granted by some heavenly presence, this power must not be used wrongly. Use the power to do good. Don't you understand why you were given the power? Don't you understand that this is a chance to convert and to fix your life?"

Justin almost laughed at Aaron's words. He shook his head and spoke, "Aaron, you know all too well that I am not here to have that talk with you. Instead, I am here because I want to be the sole controller of time. I am here for one thing. . . to end your life."

As the last word rolled off Justin's tongue, he instantly raised the revolver and fired three quick shots towards the old man's direction. The bullets pierced at lightning speed through the air towards Aaron's head but it was too late. Aaron was gone. In fact he was never there.

Aaron had his hands behind his back the whole time, ready to turn the dials of his watch when the vital moment arrived. And now he had. He watched as the minutes reversed around him, turning back time and returning him to the moment when Justin and his henchmen arrived.

Stopping the time, Aaron moved, weaving through the blurry images and approaching immobile Justin and his gang. Aaron ripped the revolver from Justin's strong grip and began taking all it's bullets, placing the small agents of death in his pocket. Afterwards, Aaron was tempted to slit Justin's throat with his pocketknife but after a moment he threw away the thought, disgusted at himself for even thinking that way. 

Then Aaron proceeded to turn the hands of time again and to return to the present, to the moment when Justin pressed his revolver's trigger. Everything happened as he planned and as Justin pulled the trigger, no bullets emitted from the weapon and Justin stared at Aaron spitefully.

Aaron was about to speak when an unseen powerful force suddenly sent him reeling to the pavement, knocking the wind out of him. Not only that, but Aaron also felt the sharp blade of a knife quickly stab his stomach, creating a agonizing and bloody wound.

Aaron then looked at Justin to see him wiping the rusty blade of a knife. He smiled crookedly at Aaron again and spoke, "All the power you've been granted and what do you do? You take my bullets? You're pathetic! I bet you haven't even discovered how to bring another man with you when you weave through time,  haven't you? You see, it was friend Crowe here who knocked you down. I brought him with me."

Aaron realized that it was time to go. He turned the hands of his watch, saying as he did so, "I am nothing like you. I am not a heartless killer."    

Tuesday! Today, we're going to explore an "equally" matched fight. Take one of the characters from your heroic team that isn't the hero himself/herself. If you select the 'smart guy,' have him/her fight the 'evil genius', and if it's the lancer, have him/her fight the dragon, heart vs dark heart, big guy vs brute, any one of those combinations.

Try to make the fight equally frustrating and challenging for both sides, allowing both characters to show that they deserve their spot on their heroic/villainous team, and have the match culminate in either a stalemate and a double KO.

I find this exercise important because, in a lot of exceptionally bad stories, fights are over too quickly because writers want to show how badass a character is. While that does work in some cases, depending on the match up, these characters are meant to be comparably strong/clever/exc so that they fill their prospective roles properly. And, after all, when you're watching a sporting event ... the interesting match is the closest one, where it goes into overtime because both sides are giving it their all and refuse to back down or quit.

If you do not have a hero / villain team, go ahead and create two equally matched opposing forces and have them fight.

Bonus: In the interest of being genre savvy, have both characters aware that they're too evenly matched and, in an attempt to rectify this, have them try something that they learned from one of their teammates, a technique / skill / method of fighting that they don't normally use.

@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Wolfmist @bjhovey @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74 @WarriorCatsRPStories @Confused @jamescoker1226 @pinkalily21 @NeoTheCreator @jaryeth @DerpBacon @Penworth @Loki @clayton_97 @Starky

Please remember, reply only to the individual exercise when posting for the sake of clarity during judging and to prevent locking other members' posts. Thank you. ^^

Teach, admittedly, never had faced someone so creatively dirty in all his years of fighting.  Augustus, the Head of the Royal Guard, had thrown just about everything in his way, from oxen to vegetables to even an expensive painting (that Teach would subsequently destroy in an attempt to lunge at him), and even set up last-second ambushes to try and get the upper hand.

Teach was overexerting himself at this point; the scars that traced all around his waist were beginning to give away again, and he could feel his shirt become damp with sweat and blood.  Augustus, being the less dexterous of the two, had his own problems with blood loss as splinters and the oversized lance found themselves again and again in his flesh...

"Jerry, Jerry, Jerry, Jerry," sang out the crowd. 

The charismatic host looked at the two people on his stage and held his microphone and cue cards up. "Shanequah. You're here today with your boyfriend Ben to tell him something, but why don't you go ahead and tell us a little about yourself and your relationship first?" 

The short, overweight, fair-skinned woman smiled with bright red lips. "Heeeeeyyyy! Thanks Jerry. You know, my boy here and I bin together fo' six months," she begins as she indicates towards the skinny, pale blonde boy next to her. "He's bin ma man and buy'd me all of the things, like you know. Ma jewellery and ma TV set and got me on that Jenny Craig. I lost 6 pounds!"

The audience clap politely. Someone wolf whistles. 

"Thaaaannnks! And so, like, I'm in beauty school and I'm gonna be one of them nail technicians. He bin payin' fo' that, too." 

"That's awfully nice of him," says Jerry, walking along the isles. "Now, Ben, how would you describe the nature of your relationship with Shanequah?" 

The skinny boy smiles, showing several missing teeth. "I'm so glad ta be here. I love this show. Them stupid people always fightin'." 

"Yeah, they do that..." says Jerry. "Ok, Shanequah, why don't you fill your boyfriend in?" 

"Oh, nah, he didn't like that too much the first time so's we ain't tried it again," replied the obese woman. 

Jerry waits for the jeering audience to calm down. "Tell Ben why you've brought him here today." 

Shanequah looks over to Ben. "Babe. Y'all know I love yew. That I dun anythan fo' yew. That I say I wish there were two a yew so I could be lovin' yew up whilst yew still at work diggin' holes." 

The skinny boy blinks and stares blankly at the cameras, scratching his crouch absently. 

"Well, I brung yew here ta tell ya I bin sleepin' wid yo' long lost twin brother, Dayle." 

"Come on out, Dayle," says Jerry over the screaming and hooting crowd. 

Another skinny blonde boy wearing baggy jeans and a singlet struts out onto the stage and after showing his minuscule muscles to the delighted audience, turns and sticks his tongue down the obese woman's throat. 

Ben stands up, grabs his chair and smacks Dayle over the head with it. 

Dayle stumbles as Shanequah screams. 

Dayle turns and runs at his twin, spear tackling him to the ground. They start to struggle and swear. 

"STEVE, STEVE, STEVE, STEVE," chant the audience as the muscular bald man jumps onto the stage with an equally muscular black man and the pair hold the fighting boys apart with what looks like minimal effort. 

Ben shrugs Steve's big hands off after a few minutes and resumes his seat, now on the opposite side of the stage. 

Dayle sits down and puts a hand on Shanequah's meaty thigh. 

"So..." begins Jerry. "...thoughts, dare I ask?" 

Dayle pipes up. "Yeah, Jerry. I think that this here lady needs a real man ta give it to 'er. Not this ugly waste of flesh over 'ere." 

Ben sprints across the stage and manages a firm punch to the identical face of his enemy. 

Dayle brings up his knee as the pair fall backwards, and through the incoherent yelling says, "YEW AINT GONNA NEED THEM NUTS NOW BOY! I BIN FUCKIN' YO' HOE FIR MONTHS!" 

Ben grabs hold of the tiny plait set at the back of Dayle's head and yanks it as Steve pulls him off his twin again. 

Dayle rolls around on the floor, holding the back of his head and screaming. "MA TAIL! BITCH RIPPED OUT MA TAIL! FUCKER GONNA DIE!!" 

Shanequah is standing to the side of the stage, yelling and flailing her hands wildly. Her long pink nails gleam as she flaps a hand towards Dayle. "BABY! Oh God, now you're UGLY!" 

Dayle, in the hands of the black security guard, stands and is shoved back into his seat. 

At the same time, Steve pushes Ben into his seat. The skinny boy holds up the small plait to the audience, who go wild. 

BONUS

Jerry waits a few minutes for things to calm down. Someone in the crowd behind him calls out; "Slut, slut, slut," in an attempt to get another chant going. It doesn't take. The chanter peters off and there's a collective chuckle before Jerry speaks. 

"Dayle... Ben... Clearly there's no way to win by fighting. What do you think can be done to end the fighting and maybe find a solution that works for everyone?" 

The audience clap politely. 

Dayle raises his hand. "Yeah Jerry, I know." He stands and faces Ben on the other side of the stage, still holding the blonde plait. In a blink, he pulls a handgun from the back of his pants and fires 5 bullets into his twin before the black security guard tackles him and knocks the gun a safe distance away. 

The audience scream and run as Jerry is rushed out by five large body guards. 

(This is literally all my brain could do today. Teething babies don't let single mum's sleep... At least it's somewhat amusing. Maybe. For me.) 

Wednesday! Now for a mis-matched fight. This could be what is informally referred to as a "curb-stomp battle" (where it's practically no contest and one side loses pathetically) ... take one villain and one hero who, instead of being the same, are polar opposites. One physically strong, but weak of mind and one brilliant, but weak in body would work. Alternatively, one could be incredibly calm and the pinnacle of order in battle while the other could be a pure wildcard, totally unpredictable, random, and full of emotion.

If you cannot provide one member of each team who are, against each other, opposites / wildly different on their approach to combat, create two characters for this exercise--and be sure to establish some backstory for them in the scene and why they are fighting.

Why do I keep insisting on backstory for new characters or that you use pre-established old ones? Because one of the WORST things a writer can do for battles is have characters fight for either a poorly explained reason or no reason at all. If there is a reason and it's not clear in the moment, that is fine for a story, but not here. We need a clear, concise picture because you have ONE scene to get your point across clearly. The backstory, much like the reason for the conflict, is there so we'll care about injuries and the ultimate outcome of the battle.

Bonus: If you didn't end your battle in a rather one-sided victory, write an additional part of the scene where one side gets thoroughly beaten (and if you did, then just follow the next part: ) and give us a good, logical reason for the loser to survive and escape to fight another day. Keep in mind that villains are ruthless and rarely spare heroes for logical reasons, so they may need to be rescued ... and keep in mind that villainous teammates rarely rescue a fallen member because it means risking their own necks, BUT a more noble villain type may feel inclined or even obligated.

The switchblade whipped out before Vic knew what to do. The knife separating Victor from his opponent, the fourty- something year old asshole who decided he was gonna try and hit on your sister, who's 15.

"Creep." Victor spits, not caring about the knife.

"I will be a creep when I cut you open in front of your sister." The man says, smiling gruesomely as Vic's sister sits in the car behind him, shivering.

Why don't I have a knife? I should have a knife. Victor thinks, as the man charges, yelling.

Victor sidesteps, tripping the man. The man slams into the ground, facefirst, the knife going flying in some opposite direction. Vic stomps his head into the concrete a few times. The man groans, and falls unconscious.

"Fuck you." Vic says, spitting on the man, then getting in the car and driving away.

Thursday! Let's cover another classic type of fight today, a personal favorite, the ever-dramatic and tension-filled 'Mexican Standoff!' This is usually a three-way (or four-way or more-way) fight. This type of fight is characterized by the fact that the three (or more) forces are equal threats to each other.

If you've ever watched Avatar: The Last Airbender, I can give you an easy example. Azula VS Aang VS Zuko is a Mexican Standoff. Their fight in season two (the one where Iroh is injured at the end) starts out as a great example. If you haven't seen the show, you should still be able to understand the following scenario clearly enough:

Let's say a hero (Aang) is on the run from two villains (Azula and Zuko) who both want to capture him and claim the glory of his defeat for themselves, as a result, the villains must fight not only the hero, but each other, and the hero must also fight both villains to avoid capture. If the hero tries to flee instead of fighting, he'll be vulnerable to an attack from behind. If he focuses on taking down only one villain, the other will catch him. If either of the villains focus only on the hero, the other villain will take them out. If the villains focus only on each other, the hero will escape.

So, again, this is a tension-filled fight and requires clever choreography and well-matched opponents, but I believe you guys can do it. Either pulling from your past heroes and villains or creating some new people, go ahead and show us a good old Mexican stand-off and bring it to a stalemate ending. Please be sure to establish the reason that these three parties are fighting each other. (And for the sake of clarity, let's have only one character in each party.)

Bonus: Now break the stalemate. You can do this in a few ways -- for example, having reinforcements arrive is probably most common, but occasionally two members of the standoff will form a temporary truce  based on the 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' concept until they can just fight each other. (Possibly on the grounds of 'Only I am allowed to defeat you.')

@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Wolfmist @bjhovey @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @GrottyStatute74 @WarriorCatsRPStories @Confused @jamescoker1226 @pinkalily21 @NeoTheCreator @jaryeth @DerpBacon @Penworth @Loki @clayton_97 @Starky

Alright, as fun as this wouldve been, I have to say I quit, sadly. I'm quite busy with all my other projects right now.

Got it. I'll take you off the tag and score list. Let me know if you want to re-join.

Friday! Alright, this is what your character exercises in weeks seven and eight have led up to, folks! It's time for the "final confrontation!" This is the end of your heroes' journey and the culmination of your villain's schemes. This is the final fight. No holds to be barred, no limits.

You can let whatever characters you like fight whatever other characters you like (though The Hero and The Villain typically insist--on a matter of pride, vengeance, concern for teammates, or the attitude of 'if you want something done right...'--in facing each other mano e mano...)

Being that this is a team vs team battle, be sure to integrate teamwork, showing that these people are stronger together than they are apart because, by now, you should know what you're working with and their connection to each other should've given them an edge in combat.

As for where the fight leads and how it ends, whether or not anyone dies or they all live, and what becomes of the world afterward... that's up to you. Just remember, this is the biggest challenge, the hardest fight, the most epic smack down that these characters are ever going to experience. Let's have them all go out / retire with a bang.

Bonus: When the fight is over, let's see what the victors think. Write about the aftermath of the fight, preferably from the view of the leader of the winning team--provided he or she is alive. If not, whoever is closest to them in rank / relation is fine.

"Fuck!" The young man hissed, as bullets whizzed by his head. His muscles protested from crouching behind the rusty old pickup truck for so long. The cartel members  standing across the junkyard screamed Spanish epithets at him as they fired on him with automated weapons. He leaned out from his cover, and fired a few bullets back at them. He cursed as the 9MM rounds from his handgun made harmless ping! sounds against the ancient, rust-covered dumpster that the Mexicans were hiding behind.

"Cabron!" One of them shouted, as he changed the magazine slotted away in his German-made submachine gun.

"Don't you assholes quit?" The younger criminal shouted, wincing in pain as a bullet grazed his arm, tearing a line in his leather jacket. "That was expensive!"

His only response was another hail of bullets. The young gangster looked around, and looked across the street from the junkyard as more bullets rang against his cover. He saw a construction crane, working on a nearby office building. He squinted at the silhouette  climbing the ladder at the crane. His focus was broken by a Molotov cocktail breaking against the car. He screamed as he patted out flames along his neck, before returning fire. The bullet he shot in return hit a Mexican square in the face, mashing in his ugly features .

The firefight continued on for a few minutes, before the young man screamed in agony. One of the bullets had passed through the window-slot, long since broken in, and entered his side. Blood poured from the wound.

Sorry! Forgot to tag everyone before I went to bed! As a result, I will not be scoring this today. This exercise will end Sunday instead.

@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Wolfmist @bjhovey @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @GrottyStatute74 @WarriorCatsRPStories @Confused @jamescoker1226 @pinkalily21 @NeoTheCreator @jaryeth @DerpBacon @Penworth @Loki @clayton_97 @Starky

(If you haven't completed a hero and villain team, you may still participate in this exercise, but please create a scene beforehand--a clearly indicated one--that shows why these two forces, one good, one evil, are fighting, and who they are.) 

YOUR NINTH WEEK SCORES:
(Subtractions from regular 5, 10, and 15 point additions are made for missing sentences and incomplete scenes. Keep in mind, please, that you are allowed to work on scenes / sentences for the entire week, I will count exercises that you went back and finished, but once Saturday hits, the work you've done is judged ... with the exception of weeks where I am late in giving you guys your score.)  

@Malkalack - 10
@Clayton_97 - 5
@Swiftstryker - 10
@Starky - 20
@Penworth - 5

This Week's Winner: Starky!

Due to the low scores and the general decreased participation, there will be no 2nd place. Congrats, Starky.

Note: ... Goddamnit. You guys are killing me. I gave you two of the most dramatic, most potentially epic fight-types ever to play around with. NONE OF YOU WANTED TO DO A MEXICAN STANDOFF and only ONE person wanted to handle a final confrontation fight? =( Really? And Malk was the guy who proposed the idea of a final confrontation, he was practically obligated to do it. Why...? Just ... why? An evenly matched one-on-one was more interesting to you than a final battle where all the main players of a story could come together to beat the crap out of each other? My inner fan weeps. 

P.S. Please note that, while anyone in the site can participate in the writing exercises at any time, if your name is not on the tag list, I will not be giving you points. In order to get your name on the taglist, you need to notify me about your desire to participate. PMs work best.

@31TeV @ecoLyte @TheNewIAP @Ogre11 @SpartacustheGreat @Morgan_R @Swiftstryker @betaband @nmelssx @Sethaniel @Malkalack @Briar_Rose @MatGods @Wolfmist @bjhovey @AWarriorFan @FazzTheMan @Claw2k11 @Romulus @ISentinelPenguinI @GrottyStatute74 @WarriorCatsRPStories @Confused @jamescoker1226 @pinkalily21 @NeoTheCreator @jaryeth @DerpBacon @Penworth @Loki @clayton_97 @Starky @WizzyCat

Important note concerning week 10: I am taking this week off from writing exercises. I will attempt to resume next week, but it is possible--due to my hectic schedule--that my break will be extended to next week as well. If any of you do not intend to continue participating, please let me know either here or via PM. I need this break, however, to continue working on The Other World and to focus on IRL problems. Thank you for your time and patience.