763 lines
21 KiB
Plaintext
763 lines
21 KiB
Plaintext
Title: 0BattleRoyale
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Credit: Written by
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Author: RaincloudTheDragon
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Notes: Pre-Debut. AIRainy runs the sim; audience must not realize. Azure's mod reinstatement is the hidden stakes engine. Adrian is already mod—has been since before Azure ever arrived. ~30 min runtime target. Proofread roster, shorthand titles, handle subtexts, and the squirrel-girl MOTD portrait art. MOTD = "Meme of the Day." The acronym is NEVER spelled out on-screen. The MOTD frame itself is a real stream asset built in Blender by Rain—ornate gilded wood with amber/topaz cabochons at each corner and midpoint, baroque fleur-de-lis flourishes, small bronze cursive nameplate reading "MOTD" at the bottom center, hung by two black cords from overhead. Use the stream asset as reference; do not redesign it.
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/*
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RULES OF THE ROOM:
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- On-screen, this is a literal gauntlet. Nothing simulated-looking. Everyone in full character-ref form.
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- Rain is cold-baseline but hosting—emulation layer does the social labor.
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- Azure does NOT know the gauntlet was green-lit as his own reinstatement trial.
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The audience doesn't need to know either. Both can find out in the verdict.
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- Stakes are public ("prove your worth"), but the REAL stakes are the skekSil moment: does he choose devotion over self-preservation when it costs him?
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- Adrian reads as steady, seasoned, amused. His being mod "since before Azure" is a
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spoken fact, not a dig.
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*/
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FADE IN:
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INT. THE COLOSSEUM - DAY (STREAM TIME)
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/* The arena: stone tiers, chat-scroll runes cut along the upper walls like
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classical friezes, subscriber-count banners hanging on chains, stylized emote
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gargoyles perched between columns. Warm rim light, magenta fill. No digital UI
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tells—this is a real place as far as anyone in it is concerned. */
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A slow crane shot rises from the sand floor, up past the tiered benches, and
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lands on the **royal box**: a draped dais with a **LOW-BACKED OBSIDIAN THRONE**
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on one side and a cluttered **MOD DESK**—clipboard, coffee, a dog-eared rulebook—
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on the other.
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/*
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MOTD frame — this is the real Blender-built stream asset. Do not redesign it.
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Gilded wood, baroque fleur-de-lis corner flourishes, amber/topaz cabochons,
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small bronze cursive nameplate at the bottom reading "MOTD," suspended by two
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black cords from overhead. Inside the frame: the day's squirrel-girl portrait
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(proofread / swap in the intended ref).
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The acronym is NEVER spoken or spelled out in dialogue. It is a room artifact.
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*/
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High on the wall behind the dais, suspended on two black cords, hangs the
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**MOTD frame**—ornate gilded baroque, amber cabochons glinting at each corner
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and midpoint, bronze nameplate at the bottom. Inside it today: a portrait of
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an anthro **squirrel girl**, cheerful, watchful.
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The frame is treated with reverence. No one comments on it. It is simply the
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room's north star.
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From stage right, **RAINCLOUD** descends. Small purple dragon, pink-blush
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cheeks, starry-night halo still visible in the air behind his head as he walks.
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He moves with the uncanny precision of a creature who built the building.
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From stage left, casually, **ADRIAN** takes the mod desk—portrait-faithful,
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early-twenties, curly brown hair, hoop earrings, white collared jacket over
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black. He has the exact energy of a guy who has done this eight hundred times.
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He nods at Rain. Rain nods back.
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Rain settles on the throne. The crowd—implied, never seen clearly—comes to a
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hush.
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RAINCLOUD
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(to camera, warm-hosting-voice)
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Welcome, welcome, welcome. To those returning to the court: you already know
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what this is. To those joining us for the first time: you are about to find out.
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He gestures, lightly, toward Adrian.
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RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
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My right hand at the desk—ADRIAN, who has held the mod badge since before most
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of this room could pronounce my handle. If he tells you to sit down, you sit.
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ADRIAN
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(dry, waving)
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Hola.
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RAINCLOUD
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Today we run **the BattleRoyale**. Our first.
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He lets that breathe. Then his eyes narrow, genuinely amused.
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RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
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A little bird told me this was someone's idea.
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CUT TO:
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INT. THE COLOSSEUM - SAND FLOOR - CONTINUOUS
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A single figure stands in a pool of spotlight: **AZURE.** Full ref-sheet form—
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porcelain-periwinkle Killer Queen silhouette, gold-skull belts, cat-eared
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helmet, ice-mint slit eyes. Over the armor, comically wrong: an oversized
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**royal-blue John Cena tee**. Sleeves baggy. The shirt reads **CENATION** in
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peeling vinyl.
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He is waving—theatrical, elbow-deep—at the dais.
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AZURE
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(brightly)
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My lord! Yes! I pitched it! I am so glad you loved the—
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RAINCLOUD (O.S.)
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I did love it.
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AZURE
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Yes! Thank you—
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RAINCLOUD (O.S.)
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I loved it enough to put you in it.
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A long, small beat. Azure's smile holds. The armor does not move. Only the
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Cena shirt flutters, weakly.
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AZURE
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(small)
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...in it.
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Raincloud leans forward in the throne, genial, merciless.
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RAINCLOUD
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You came to me with the concept. You did not, as I recall, include yourself
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on the roster.
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AZURE
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(very quickly)
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A host! I was—my thought was, I would *host*, I would—stand at the mod desk
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with Adrian, I could help, I could—
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ADRIAN
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(not looking up)
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Desk seats two. Always has.
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AZURE
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(wounded)
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Right. Right. Of course.
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Raincloud steeples his claws.
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RAINCLOUD
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Here is what I will do. I will honor your creativity. I will honor, also,
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your enthusiasm. So I am placing you on the roster. Front and center.
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He lets it land.
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RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
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Prove your worth in the arena you designed, and we will talk about what a
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creature like you deserves.
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Azure, recovering, pivots—skekSil reflex—into a theatrical, over-deep bow.
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The Cena tee bunches awkwardly around his waist.
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AZURE
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(radiant)
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My lord is GENEROUS.
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RAINCLOUD
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Mm.
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Raincloud turns to camera.
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RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
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Your champions. In order of arrival.
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SMASH TO:
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/*
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==== VANITY CARDS ====
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Each card: full-body hero pose in a contained spotlight field, name-banner
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unfurls, subtext chyron shows true handle + one alt where applicable, and
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RAIN voice-overs the two-line description. Proofread all text.
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*/
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INT. VANITY FIELD - VOID
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A pool of spotlight. Black surround. Chains of subscriber-count banners rain
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from somewhere above and halt, hanging.
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AZURE steps into the light. He poses. A banner unfurls behind him:
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**ActuallyAzure**
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*guidingflyer530 · actuallynotazure*
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RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
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Disgraced ex-Mod. Highly esteemed and beloved court jester who originated the
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Royale. Will he survive long enough to return to his former glory?
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Azure preens. The Cena shirt catches the light unflatteringly. He loves it.
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CUT TO:
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Same void. **NOTORIOUSROOSTER** steps in. A **tall orange beak** protrudes
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from under a deep cream-white cowl; the rest of the body is swallowed in
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cloak. One clawed foot taps. No face is visible. The banner:
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**NotoriousRooster**
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*notorious_rooster*
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RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
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Spark plug of the court, voice like a siren, identity like a rumor.
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Nobody in this arena is louder, and nobody in this arena has been seen.
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The beak tips, regally. A tiny wave from inside the cloak.
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CUT TO:
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Same void. **UBEAR** steps in—fez crooked, **red-with-yellow-band, black
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tassel**; massive brass-geared steampunk left arm clicking softly; grizzly
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bulk, dark claws. He does not pose. He glowers.
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**Ubear**
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*verify52w · AncientMalgru*
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RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
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Imitator. Subverter. Wears whichever face the room requires and hates that
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it works. Ubear is his favorite mask, and he will die before he admits it.
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Ubear makes a rude gesture with the mechanical arm. The gears whine.
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CUT TO:
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Same void. **STARBOY** saunters in, chibi-proportioned despite the weight
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of the intro—teal-aqua layered hair, galaxy eyes, blue shearling-collar jacket,
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star hair clip. He winks. The banner:
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**Starboy**
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*Starboy_Journeys · Ruford / ijustdunnoanymore*
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RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
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Chaos comic, late arrival, impossible to ignore.
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Louder than he can afford to be, and funnier than he knows.
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/*
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the Ruford / ijustdunnoanymore subtext is a deliberate writer-side tell for
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later installments. Audience can read it or not.
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*/
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Starboy makes a kiss at the camera, then an obscene gesture, then another
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kiss. He exits.
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CUT TO:
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Same void. **AGATE** walks in—long, lithe, cream-and-coral feathered chimera,
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white spiral markings on the haunches, big avian wings folded. Quiet. Poised.
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Single mint eye catching the light.
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**Agate**
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*LoonyAgate*
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RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
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Patient as sand. Soft-spoken as fog. Knows the map you're about to walk into
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and will absolutely not warn you. He is here because he was invited. That is
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all he will say.
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Agate dips his head, a half-bow, and the tail-tuft flicks once.
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CUT TO:
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INT. THE COLOSSEUM - SAND FLOOR
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All five champions now stand in a loose arc across the arena floor. Azure
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fidgets at the head of the arc. Rooster's beak tracks slow across the room.
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Ubear stares at the dais. Starboy is chewing something. Agate is still.
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Rain nods to Adrian, who flips the rulebook open with the lazy authority of
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somebody who wrote it.
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ADRIAN
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Three rounds. Nobody dies—this isn't that kind of colosseum, bro.
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(beat, to Rain)
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...right?
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RAINCLOUD
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Correct.
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ADRIAN
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(back to floor)
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Round one: reflexes. Round two: audit. Round three: the bow. Eliminations
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carry; you lose a round, you stay on the floor but you don't score. At the
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end, the dragon calls it. The dragon's call is final.
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STARBOY
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What's "the bow"?
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ADRIAN
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You'll know.
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RAINCLOUD
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(light, almost kind)
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Begin.
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CUT TO:
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INT. THE COLOSSEUM - ROUND ONE: CRASH COURSE
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/*
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Reflex chaos. Play like a game-show obstacle gauntlet, not a death match.
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Streamer UI aesthetics translated into physical set pieces: giant floating
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chat-message blocks on chains, a spinning EMOTE WHEEL, pyrotechnics fired by
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SUB ALERTS. Runtime budget: ~4 pages.
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*/
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The arena floor rearranges itself—literal hydraulic rumble—into a course of
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**SWINGING CHAT-BUBBLES** (oversized speech balloons on chains), a **SUB-ALERT
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CANNON** (fires harmless but blinding confetti on a trigger), and a rising,
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lowering **EMOTE WHEEL** bearing cartoon-dragon-face icons.
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Starboy sprints first. He ducks the first swinging bubble, eats the second
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in the chest, and cackles on his back.
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STARBOY
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(from the floor)
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TEN OUT OF TEN, WOULD GET MERKED AGAIN—
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He rolls clear.
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Rooster follows—the cowl billows, the beak leads—and he moves better than he
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should be able to move under all that fabric. The crowd reacts. The beak
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doesn't.
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Ubear lumbers. The mechanical arm tanks through a swinging bubble, gears
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whining. He does not duck. He does not need to.
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Agate moves last, slow, unhurried, and the course seems to open around him
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like it's apologizing.
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/* save Azure for last — he is the drama. */
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Azure steps up. The confetti cannon fires early—direct hit. He shrieks,
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slips, catches himself on a claw, and then, because he is Azure, recovers
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into an unnecessary pirouette. The Cena shirt nearly trips him.
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AZURE
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(panting, to the dais)
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I did not *technically* fall, my lord!
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RAINCLOUD
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(dry, enjoying it)
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Noted.
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ADRIAN
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(marking his clipboard)
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Didn't fall. Did style.
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AZURE
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*Style*. Thank you, Adrian. I have always *respected* you.
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Adrian does not look up.
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ADRIAN
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Mm-hm.
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The sub-alert cannon fires a second volley. Azure shrieks again, louder. He
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stumbles through the rest of the course in a cloud of his own confetti,
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arrives at the finish line upside-down against a chat bubble, and raises one
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claw in triumph.
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AZURE
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Survived! Unscathed! Beautiful!
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Rooster's beak swivels at him, slow and judgmental.
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Starboy applauds from the floor, still on his back.
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STARBOY
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That was *unreal*, bro, never stop.
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CUT TO:
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INT. THE COLOSSEUM - ROUND TWO: AUDIT TRAIL
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/*
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Knowledge / metadata test. The arena reconfigures into a ceremonial COURT
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ARCHIVE: five plinths, each bearing a SCROLL. The scroll is a ban log—five
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real-looking ban entries (proofread; or invent fictional handles to avoid
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clashing with real mods). Each champion must identify WHICH ENTRY IS A FAKE
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planted by the dragon.
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This is Azure's event. Set it up so the audience doesn't notice yet—play it
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like any of the others could win. Then reveal Azure's uncanny fluency.
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Runtime: ~4 pages.
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*/
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The arena reconfigures. Five stone PLINTHS rise from the sand. On each, a
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long parchment SCROLL unrolls itself with a ceremonial snap. Runic chat-script
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crawls across them.
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RAINCLOUD
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Five bans. One of them is mine, but I did not write it. One of you has ninety
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seconds to tell me which is the forgery.
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He steeples his claws.
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RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
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Anyone may read. Only one of you may guess.
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The champions approach their scrolls. Ubear scowls at his and doesn't bother
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pretending to read. Rooster's beak bobs thoughtfully over his. Starboy reads
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the first line of his aloud:
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STARBOY
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"Banned for asking the dragon if his—"
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(squints)
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—is this real? This is amazing.
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RAINCLOUD
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It is real. That one is real.
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Agate has finished reading his. He looks up calmly, says nothing, steps
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back. Done.
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Azure has not moved to a single scroll. He is standing in the center of the
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plinths, rotating slowly, reading all five *from where he stands*. His slit
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eyes flick. His lips move, counting.
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Ubear notices. Ubear does not like it.
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UBEAR
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(muttering)
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He has no business being good at this.
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AZURE
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(not looking up)
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I have *every* business.
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He steps forward, places a single claw on the second scroll.
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AZURE (CONT'D)
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This one. The timestamp's wrong. You don't write bans at that hour, my lord.
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You write them right after stream, when you are still mad. This one is two
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days delayed. Also the reason field is too clean. You're messier when
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you're mad.
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Long pause.
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Rain tilts his head. The warm-hosting-voice slips, for one small second, into
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something else—genuine, quiet, assessing.
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RAINCLOUD
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...correct.
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Azure straightens. The Cena tee un-bunches. Adrian, at the desk, writes
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something down without looking at anyone, and taps his pen twice against the
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clipboard—a tell Rain clocks and files.
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ADRIAN
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(quiet, to Rain)
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Mm.
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RAINCLOUD
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(quiet, back)
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Mm.
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Azure does not catch any of this. He is too busy soaking in the first real
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approval he has received in months.
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AZURE
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(delighted)
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I *knew* my evenings in the audit channel would—
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RAINCLOUD
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Round three.
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AZURE
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—yes my lord.
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CUT TO:
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INT. THE COLOSSEUM - ROUND THREE: THE BOW
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/*
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Social / loyalty test. Here is the real gauntlet.
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Setup: the arena is cleared. In the center of the sand, a single object: a
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ceremonial BOW (weapon, not a gesture—until it is). The rules, as Adrian
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explains them, sound cruel. The rules, as they play out, are a test of
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whether any champion will sacrifice their standing to protect the throne.
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Runtime: ~5 pages. This is where the movie earns its ending.
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*/
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The plinths have sunk. In the exact center of the sand floor: a slim black
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**ceremonial BOW**, an arrow nocked but not drawn, resting on a velvet
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cushion on a knee-high iron stand.
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All five champions flank the bow in a wide circle. Adrian closes his
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rulebook.
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ADRIAN
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One bow. One arrow. One shot.
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He pauses.
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ADRIAN (CONT'D)
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Whoever fires it at the dragon wins the round.
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A beat. A real one. Starboy laughs, because Starboy doesn't know what else
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to do.
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STARBOY
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Come on.
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ADRIAN
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(mild)
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Nobody gets hurt. Dragon's a big boy. It's theatre.
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(beat)
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But the score is real. Winner of this round is ahead going into the verdict.
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Rooster's beak swings to the bow and does not swing away.
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Ubear's mechanical arm flexes once. Gears click.
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Agate has not moved. Agate will not move.
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Azure looks at the bow. Azure looks at the dragon. Azure looks, briefly, at
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Adrian.
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ADRIAN (CONT'D)
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On your own time.
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Silence. A long one. The crowd hush is a physical thing.
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UBEAR
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(grumbling)
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Stupid game.
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He steps forward anyway. Reaches for the bow.
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Starboy moves faster. Not at the bow—*between* the bow and Ubear. Shoulder
|
|
out, chibi-serious for one strange second.
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
Yeah no.
|
|
|
|
UBEAR
|
|
Move, simp.
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
(shrugging, grinning)
|
|
Can't.
|
|
|
|
Rooster's beak tips, curious. Rooster does not intervene. Rooster watches.
|
|
|
|
Agate closes his eyes.
|
|
|
|
Azure—
|
|
|
|
Azure steps past both of them, picks up the bow.
|
|
|
|
The room inhales.
|
|
|
|
Adrian, at the desk, does not write anything.
|
|
|
|
Azure turns. He faces the dais. The bow rises. The string draws. The arrow
|
|
aligns with Raincloud, who has not moved, who is watching with the focused
|
|
stillness of something that might already know the answer.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(quiet)
|
|
Take the shot, Azure.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(quieter)
|
|
My lord—
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Take the shot. Win the round. You are one point behind.
|
|
|
|
Long beat. Azure's claws are shaking. The Cena shirt flutters.
|
|
|
|
Then, slowly, Azure turns the bow aside. He sets the arrow back on the
|
|
cushion. He lays the bow beside it. He kneels.
|
|
|
|
He kneels *hard*—forehead to the sand, both claws extended, the skekSil
|
|
over-deep bow he has been doing all his life, performed at last with nothing
|
|
theatrical in it at all. His shoulders are shaking. The Cena shirt pools
|
|
around him.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(muffled, into the sand)
|
|
I decline the round.
|
|
|
|
He does not look up.
|
|
|
|
AZURE (CONT'D)
|
|
I withdraw.
|
|
|
|
Starboy, still between the bow and Ubear, exhales. Ubear grunts. Rooster's
|
|
beak tips, approvingly this time. Agate opens his eyes.
|
|
|
|
Rain, on the throne, does not move for a long beat. Then, very slightly, he
|
|
leans back.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Adrian.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(already writing)
|
|
On it.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - VERDICT
|
|
|
|
/*
|
|
All five champions arced across the sand. Azure still kneeling, though he's
|
|
been given leave to stand—he has not. Adrian at the desk, clipboard closed.
|
|
Rain on the throne.
|
|
|
|
Verdict beat. Do not let Rain be warm. Let him be PRECISE. The warmth is
|
|
the audience's to feel.
|
|
*/
|
|
|
|
Raincloud rises from the throne—the first time he has stood in the film.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Three rounds. I will call them plainly.
|
|
|
|
He gestures, once.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Round one, reflexes. Starboy.
|
|
|
|
Starboy blinks. Then beams. Then flops sideways onto the sand like he's been
|
|
shot, because that is Starboy's victory dance.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Round two, the audit. Azure.
|
|
|
|
Azure, forehead still on the ground, makes a small sound that could be a sob
|
|
or could be laughter.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Round three, the bow. Vacated. No shot was taken. No shot was *permitted* to
|
|
be taken, by two of you, and that is interesting to me.
|
|
|
|
He looks, evenly, at Starboy. At Azure.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
By scoring, the round belongs to no one.
|
|
|
|
A beat.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
By *meaning*—
|
|
|
|
He lets that hang. Then:
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Azure.
|
|
|
|
Azure finally looks up. Slit eyes wet, mint-bright.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Stand.
|
|
|
|
Azure stands. It takes him a moment.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
You designed this arena. You did not, when handed a weapon pointed at me,
|
|
use it. That is a test you did not know you were taking, and you passed it.
|
|
|
|
Adrian, at the desk, opens a small drawer. He removes something small, flat,
|
|
metallic. A **mod badge**. He does not hand it over yet.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
I am reinstating your mod.
|
|
|
|
The arena does not cheer. The arena waits—because that is what the arena has
|
|
been trained to do. Azure's mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(hoarse)
|
|
My— my lord, I—
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(cutting him off, but not unkindly)
|
|
On two conditions.
|
|
|
|
Azure nods frantically, a child being told his punishment is reduced.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
One. Adrian has held the desk since before you held anything. He remains
|
|
senior. You will defer to him, in public, always.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(instantly)
|
|
Always. Of course. *Adrian.*
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(deadpan, still not looking up)
|
|
Cool.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Two. The gauntlet you designed will run again. Next year. You will host
|
|
beside me when it does. You will not be on the roster a second time.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(whispering)
|
|
Thank you. Thank you, my lord. Thank you.
|
|
|
|
Rain waves a claw. Adrian stands, crosses the sand, and hands Azure the
|
|
badge. Casually. Like he's done it a hundred times. Maybe because he has.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(quietly, to Azure, as he pins it)
|
|
Breathe, man. Badge doesn't help if you faint.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(a small laugh, wet)
|
|
*Adrian.*
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
Mm-hm.
|
|
|
|
/* final tableau */
|
|
|
|
Wide shot: the five champions in a loose arc. Azure, badge glinting blue on
|
|
his chest over the ridiculous Cena tee. Starboy still sprawled in the sand.
|
|
Rooster's beak finally tilted skyward in something like approval. Ubear
|
|
rolling his mechanical shoulder, grudging. Agate, small smile, the tail-tuft
|
|
flicking.
|
|
|
|
Rain, back on the throne. Adrian, back at the desk. The gilded frame still
|
|
watching from the wall, squirrel-girl portrait inside it, bronze nameplate
|
|
catching one last glint of the overhead light.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(to camera, warm-hosting-voice again)
|
|
Thus concludes our first BattleRoyale. We'll see you at the next one.
|
|
|
|
He lifts one claw. The lights begin to lower.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
(smaller, to himself, barely audible)
|
|
That was instructive.
|
|
|
|
The arena dims.
|
|
|
|
FADE OUT.
|
|
|
|
#END.
|
|
|
|
/*
|
|
==== PRODUCTION / CUT-DOWN NOTES ====
|
|
|
|
If runtime overshoots:
|
|
|
|
1. Cut the confetti-cannon second volley in Round 1. Saves ~20s.
|
|
2. Shorten the audit-trail scroll-reading beat—cut Starboy's aloud read.
|
|
Saves ~30s.
|
|
3. The single deepest cut: collapse Ubear's and Starboy's near-bow moment
|
|
in Round 3 into a single uninterrupted Azure pickup. You lose Starboy's
|
|
quiet "yeah no" (the one crack in the costume line from his profile—
|
|
reluctant to cut, but it's the cleanest chop). Saves ~60s.
|
|
4. Do NOT cut the kneel. Do NOT cut the "you designed this arena" line. Do
|
|
NOT cut Rain's final "that was instructive." Those three are the spine.
|
|
|
|
If runtime undershoots:
|
|
|
|
1. Extend the vanity card sequence with one extra beat per champion—a small
|
|
flourish, no new dialogue, cut for rhythm.
|
|
2. Extend the silence before Azure steps toward the bow. The longer that
|
|
beat holds, the more the kneel pays.
|
|
*/
|