The Biscuit Massacre

[Scherezade deWinter]

Aboard an unnamed space station, sizeable enough to house millions of visitors that have arrived from near and far, the Massacre was about to begin.

The Massacre, originally thought to be merely a myth or a legend, resurfaced a handful of days ago. What was it? A fight in which participants from all around the galaxy came together for the right to define what krak a BISCUIT is. Is it a cookie? Is it a Tim-Tam? Is it a cake? Wars that have killed entire star systems have been waged over less important matters.

Today, the Confederacy of Independent Systems has laid aside any notion of friends and enemies, and has opened the doors to this space station to any and all across the 'verse. If you exist, you are invited!

The Biscuit Massacre is a free for all battle in the arena. There are no limits on how many writers or characters from any faction (or no faction) can join. Last character left standing gets to define what a biscuit means according to Chaos lore.

Killing is not permitted. Anyone discovered to commit killer'ing will be removed from the fight and forfeit the right to decide for everyone else what a damned biscuit is.

Audiences are invited to participate. There are popcorn and other snack stands around, comfortable chairs, and you may interact with each other as well.

We only ask that you use the appropriate image at the top of your post:

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[Mauda]

I didn't spend an awful lot of time in space. My priorities were on Coruscant and more recently, Commenor. But offworld matters required my attention and so I was dragged off for what I half-jokingly refer to as work.

On my way back home, I came across a space-station of particular interest. It was certainly bustling with activity and sizeable enough for a generous population. I didn't often distract myself with trivial matters but I was dying for a drink and the station was a floating invite. Thus I steered off course and docked my freighter.

I stepped off the boarding ramp, fastened a loose belt of cloth and made my way towards the main entrance to the rest of the station.

People everywhere. I had no idea what was going on but there certainly seemed an event of sorts. There was a congestion of people all trying to funnel into a main area that I could barely make out within all the heads of the public. I tuned into the myriad voices and tried to make sense of the situation.

After about a minute, all I gathered was that this was an arena, there were going to be lots of fights, and vast mention of the word biscuit. I was both intrigued and left quite confused. But my thirst for a drink had very soon been replaced by a thirst for combat. The only combat I'd experienced was one-sided murder. Slavers all over Coruscant were often left with spines twisted and shoulders reversed simply because I hated Slavers with a passion. But this was an Arena, where such use of the force was likely not permitted and so my first real engagement in combat was on the Horizon. Now, who did I need to speak to to get in?

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Darth Banshee]

Darth Banshee came here for one thing and thing alone, to settle what a biscuit was and was not, only the jaffa cake could be left undecided. This Tam Tam could not be classed as ultimate biscuit, for starters it was not a very good penguin, and just a cheap impersonator. The only thing was mattered was a ginger nut, and hob nobs, where classed as supreme, anything else carries a death sentence. She was not kidding on this, she would kill if people did not recognise biscuits where rated via their ability to improve tea.

As she sat down, and waited for single person to challenger on this in full war gear, she got offered a tam tam, and she executed the heathen their and then. She poured hate in that idea of biscuit, and the gave it form manifest and fired lightning straight at him, his stood on end. They began to cook, as she liked the smell, of burnt flesh.

 

[Wresto]

Eddlo was beginning to psych himself up into a combat ready mind set. That was a trick he learned before going into gladiatorial fights. He would get himself into a sort of berserk like rage when the fighting began. Eddlo wasn't sure what this conflict was over. But he was simply told he needed to fight, and where he needed to do it.

Bringing no weapons other then his fists the hulking man wouldn't be concerned with being under equipped. His faith in his own punches were enough to get himself by. However, he did have an advantage he wasn't even aware of, and that was his Force Sensitivity. It being something that could greatly increase his physical feats. Allowing him to run faster, jump higher, and hit harder. It all giving himself super human like strength.

Nonetheless Eddlo was ready to start his rampage through the station. To begin his non-lethal crusade to dictate what a biscuit was. Since he heard one of the rules was no killing, he'd just need to either scare or beat everyone into letting him take the ultimate honor. "You ready big guy?" Was the only thing his inner voice asked before he was ready to start showing what he can do.

 

[Elise Ike]

To biscuit or not to biscuit, that is the question, a silly one but never the least it was one that somehow gathered quite a large crowd, time sure have changed, but after the CIS had their little gladiator round over if tea was better then coffee such an event was bound to take place. It was kind of funny to see that when such questions arose most were more then eager to throw down and solve the problem in a very physical way then talking, literal cave man tactics, but effective.

At the very least it would serve as some meager entertainment, Elise not really caring about the outcome, in a few years this exact same fight would probably happen again, or how one defined these baked goods would change once more. Still if she was a betting women, [member="Darth Banshee"] seemed to be quite the formidable foe to fight, if things went into 1 v 1 style, for all Elise knew everyone might just team up on the women instantly to take down the biggest threat. Another primal instinct one that came about due to a common and all powerful enemy, more so when said enemy over intimidate the rest and seemed much to relaxed.

 

[Vertigo]

[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]
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[SIZE=11pt]There was a large Houk in the corner of the proceedings with his feet up on two different tables, so they didn’t break in half. Armed in an array of armor, gadgets, weaponry and other unrelated unmentionables. Though the Ranger had no business starting fights in unnamed bars, he had come in earnest to see just which champion would win the day, and maybe get some good grub.

Right now however, all that mattered was he was snacking on his favourite biscuit, which happened to be made of a rare delicacy known as the breaded Goolap fish from Wuba 7. Clearly the superior biscuit for his Houk. Indeed, the sheer size of the pile of biscuits at his table was considerable and might be construed as a challenge to all comers, aimed squarely at their dining sensibilities. However, he was clearly resolved to not interfere. Mostly because the bosses wouldn't like him punching people when off duty.

The 8ft tall armored monstrosity made his presence known when dramatically out of the blue there came a mighty declaration of battle, a low gutteral sound to strike fear into the hearts of man and beast alike.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Followed by a very low base voice grumbling, “excuse me,” then more breaded Goolap fish were consumed in quantities best left to fictional storytellers and their brave readership. Indeed, if anyone wanted an EATING contest, this particular spectator would take them all on, because apparently more plates were being brought over, endless piles of biscuits that would threaten to obscure the partaking Houk from view if not dealt with quickly. It would be touch and go whether his stomach won the day, but he would try, pray for him.[/SIZE]