
An artist's depiction of an Extended Unit Death
I vote lil-Inferno.
He knows why.
Wait, if there's a legitimate reason why you are voting lil, I think you should tell the rest of the town. I don't want to bandwagon if you have a good reason to change our votes.
Alright, you asked for it...
A dimly lit rectangular chamber comprised what seems to be a study situated within one of the inconspicuous-seeming domiciles of the city.
A subtle reference to the pixel-art that is Inferno's avatar. As you know,
squares are rectangles (what his avatar is
comprised of), and the pixels are mostly dark; because of the
dim lighting, the face is
inconspicuous.
The room is entirely devoid of items, yet filled to the brim with all the tools and data anyone could ask for, containing petabytes of data within the 3-d cyberspace. One lone figure stood at the center, his hands furiously tapping away at the several holographic keyboards surrounding his waist as streams of data flew back and forth between the many virtual data nodes in his room.
The avatar
furiously shakes a
tool, and a sprite is
physically stored data. The person it represents
isn't real and has no collision until it's programmed to have collision, and its background is necessarily
transparent. His avatar is notably
by itself. Finally, his avatar is
only one less dimension than mentioned, because saying 2-D directly would have been too obvious.
"I did not ask for this," the figure muttered, sweat flowing down his face, "yet you foolishly persist; you leave me no choice but to make you regret it."
This is a
personal attack from Aristocrat, saying that Inferno made him regret playing his game. Aristocrat is criticizing Inferno
taking suggestions from mafia players that he did not ask for, which is why the game was ruined for him.
At almost the same instant that the man's fingers touched the return key to execute the deadly routine he had prepared, his visor clouded over with countless errors, instantly filling his entire augmented vision. Lanthanide spewed a string of expletives before wrenching his AR visors from his face and slamming it into the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. With a small puff of smoke, his only link to the virtual world was now irreversibly reduced to a mangled mass of plastic.
Again, a
criticism of Inferno's mistakes as a host. Inferno is always
spewing insulting things, admittedly in jest, in the Shoutbox; as a bonus,
"string" is a programming term, and Inferno is a programmer. His avatar is
constantly stomping with its feet.
Elsewhere at the same time, the charred remains of another pair of AR visors fell to the ground and shattered. What was moments before a brightly lit intersection bustling with digital life was now reduced to the eerie darkness of the corporeal night. LoTu)S stood there in shock, still unable to comprehend the swiftness with which the terminating event had occurred.
Again, referring to the
pitch-black face with eerie eyes. Oh, charred you say? Like it was burned?
Inferno.
An extremely long and complex route mapped out with ornate chalk circles crept along the darkness, racing towards its target at incredible speed. As soon as it latched on, however, the line began glowing and disappeared without a trace immediately after, leaving the target unaware of any abnormalities in his surroundings. Little did he know of just how much he had lost in that single moment...
Anyone here play Inferno's
Slick game, full of ridiculous paths just to get to the next screen? And are those
eyes glowing in his avatar when they should be hidden like the rest of the face? Finally, Aristocrat predicted
how much someone was going to incriminate Inferno by finding all these clues, and I'm honored to be that person.