625 lines
22 KiB
Plaintext
625 lines
22 KiB
Plaintext
Title: 0BattleRoyale
|
|
Credit: Written by
|
|
Author: RaincloudTheDragon
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
/*
|
|
RULES OF THE ROOM:
|
|
- On-screen, this is a literal gauntlet. Nothing simulated-looking. Everyone in full character-ref form.
|
|
- Rain is cold-baseline but hosting—emulation layer does the social labor.
|
|
- Azure does NOT know the gauntlet was green-lit as his own reinstatement trial. The audience doesn't need to know either. Both can find out in the verdict.
|
|
- 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?
|
|
- Adrian reads as steady, seasoned, amused. His being mod "since before Azure" is a spoken fact, not a dig.
|
|
|
|
PRODUCTION DESIGN: read `Story/Worldbuilding.md` BEFORE storyboarding. Quick version:
|
|
- The court is **Catmull-Baroque passionately murdering Brutae** — raw concrete substrate, low-poly gilded procedural ornament bolted/carved on top, visible seams, amber rim on ornament / cool fill on concrete.
|
|
- Characters follow the **Gumball Rule** — each in their native render language (painterly dragon, JoJo-ink Azure, chibi Starboy, cel-silhouette Rooster, painted chimera Agate, cartoon-steampunk Ubear, grounded-2D Adrian). Do not homogenize. Do not lampshade the clash.
|
|
*/
|
|
|
|
FADE IN:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - DAY (STREAM TIME)
|
|
|
|
/* The arena: stone tiers, chat-scroll runes cut along the upper walls like classical friezes, subscriber-count banners hanging on chains, stylized emote gargoyles perched between columns. Warm rim light, magenta fill. No digital UI tells—this is a real place as far as anyone in it is concerned. */
|
|
|
|
A slow crane shot rises from the sand floor, up past the tiered benches, and lands on the **royal box**: a draped dais with a **LOW-BACKED OBSIDIAN THRONE** on one side and a cluttered **MOD DESK**—clipboard, coffee, a dog-eared rulebook—on the other.
|
|
|
|
/*
|
|
MOTD frame — this is the real Blender-built stream asset. Do not redesign it. Gilded wood, baroque fleur-de-lis corner flourishes, amber/topaz cabochons, small bronze cursive nameplate at the bottom reading "MOTD," suspended by two black cords from overhead. Inside the frame: the day's squirrel-girl portrait (proofread / swap in the intended ref).
|
|
|
|
The acronym is NEVER spoken or spelled out in dialogue. It is a room artifact.
|
|
*/
|
|
|
|
High on the wall behind the dais, suspended on two black cords, hangs the **MOTD frame**—ornate gilded baroque, amber cabochons glinting at each corner and midpoint, bronze nameplate at the bottom. Inside it today: a portrait of an anthro **squirrel girl**, cheerful, watchful.
|
|
|
|
The frame is treated with reverence. No one comments on it. It is simply the room's north star.
|
|
|
|
From stage right, **RAINCLOUD** descends. Adult anthro dragon, five-eleven, purple base with warm-yellow segmented underbelly catching the house lights; a single pair of curving horns rising from above and behind a pair of sideways-set bovidae ears (cattle/goat cast, soft and leaf-shaped); magenta-violet bat wings folded high; a thick purple tail lined down the top by a single overlapping row of leaf-shaped scales (scutes, not braid), leaf-spade tuft trailing across the stones behind him. Green eyes, fixed. He moves with the uncanny precision of a creature who built the building.
|
|
|
|
/* Raincloud — play to ref sheet, not PFP. Adult proportions, digitigrade, full wings and tail. PFP-style cheek blushes and starry halo are optional aura for stylized cutaways only; default on-camera look is the ref sheet. Colors on file: base #6b5388, horns #4a2299, ear cream #8d7776, wing membrane #6e2a80, underbelly #e1c77e, eyes #52904b. */
|
|
|
|
From stage left, casually, **ADRIAN** takes the mod desk—portrait-faithful, early-twenties, curly brown hair, hoop earrings, white collared jacket over black. He has the exact energy of a guy who has done this eight hundred times. He nods at Rain. Rain nods back.
|
|
|
|
Rain settles on the throne. The crowd—implied, never seen clearly—comes to a hush.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(to camera, warm-hosting-voice)
|
|
Welcome, welcome, welcome. To those returning to the court: you already know what this is. To those joining us for the first time: you are about to find out.
|
|
|
|
He gestures, lightly, toward Adrian.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
My right hand at the desk—ADRIAN, who has held the mod badge since before most of this room could pronounce my handle. If he tells you to sit down, you sit.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(dry, waving)
|
|
Hola.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Today we run **the BattleRoyale**. Our first.
|
|
|
|
He lets that breathe. Then his eyes narrow, genuinely amused.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
A little bird told me this was someone's idea.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - SAND FLOOR - CONTINUOUS
|
|
|
|
A single figure stands in a pool of spotlight: **AZURE.** Full ref-sheet form—porcelain-periwinkle Killer Queen silhouette, gold-skull belts, cat-eared helmet, ice-mint slit eyes. Over the armor, comically wrong: an oversized **royal-blue John Cena tee**. Sleeves baggy. The shirt reads **CENATION** in peeling vinyl.
|
|
|
|
He is waving—theatrical, elbow-deep—at the dais.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(brightly)
|
|
My lord! Yes! I pitched it! I am so glad you loved the—
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (O.S.)
|
|
I did love it.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
Yes! Thank you—
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (O.S.)
|
|
I loved it enough to put you in it.
|
|
|
|
A long, small beat. Azure's smile holds. The armor does not move. Only the Cena shirt flutters, weakly.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(small)
|
|
...in it.
|
|
|
|
Raincloud leans forward in the throne, genial, merciless.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
You came to me with the concept. You did not, as I recall, include yourself on the roster.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(very quickly)
|
|
A host! I was—my thought was, I would *host*, I would—stand at the mod desk with Adrian, I could help, I could—
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(not looking up)
|
|
Desk seats two. Always has.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(wounded)
|
|
Right. Right. Of course.
|
|
|
|
Raincloud steeples his claws.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Here is what I will do. I will honor your creativity. I will honor, also, your enthusiasm. So I am placing you on the roster. Front and center.
|
|
|
|
He lets it land.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Prove your worth in the arena you designed, and we will talk about what a creature like you deserves.
|
|
|
|
Azure, recovering, pivots—skekSil reflex—into a theatrical, over-deep bow. The Cena tee bunches awkwardly around his waist.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(radiant)
|
|
My lord is GENEROUS.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Mm.
|
|
|
|
Raincloud turns to camera.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Your champions. In order of arrival.
|
|
|
|
SMASH TO:
|
|
|
|
/* ==== VANITY CARDS ==== Each card: full-body hero pose in a contained spotlight field, name-banner unfurls, subtext chyron shows true handle + one alt where applicable, and RAIN voice-overs the two-line description. Proofread all text. */
|
|
|
|
INT. VANITY FIELD - VOID
|
|
|
|
A pool of spotlight. Black surround. Chains of subscriber-count banners rain from somewhere above and halt, hanging.
|
|
|
|
AZURE steps into the light. He poses. A banner unfurls behind him:
|
|
|
|
**ActuallyAzure**
|
|
*guidingflyer530 · actuallynotazure*
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
|
|
Disgraced ex-Mod. Highly esteemed and beloved court jester who originated the Royale. Will he survive long enough to return to his former glory?
|
|
|
|
Azure preens. The Cena shirt catches the light unflatteringly. He loves it.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
Same void. **NOTORIOUSROOSTER** steps in. A **tall orange beak** protrudes from under a deep cream-white cowl; the rest of the body is swallowed in cloak. One clawed foot taps. No face is visible. The banner:
|
|
|
|
**NotoriousRooster**
|
|
*notorious_rooster*
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
|
|
Spark plug of the court, voice like a siren, identity like a rumor. Nobody in this arena is louder, and nobody in this arena has been seen.
|
|
|
|
The beak tips, regally. A tiny wave from inside the cloak.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
Same void. **UBEAR** steps in—fez crooked, **red-with-yellow-band, black tassel**; massive brass-geared steampunk left arm clicking softly; grizzly bulk, dark claws. He does not pose. He glowers.
|
|
|
|
**Ubear**
|
|
*verify52w · AncientMalgru*
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
|
|
Imitator. Subverter. Wears whichever face the room requires and hates that it works. Ubear is his favorite mask, and he will die before he admits it.
|
|
|
|
Ubear makes a rude gesture with the mechanical arm. The gears whine.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
Same void. **STARBOY** saunters in, chibi-proportioned despite the weight of the intro—teal-aqua layered hair, galaxy eyes, blue shearling-collar jacket, star hair clip. He winks. The banner:
|
|
|
|
**Starboy**
|
|
*Starboy_Journeys · Ruford / ijustdunnoanymore*
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
|
|
Chaos comic, late arrival, impossible to ignore. Louder than he can afford to be, and funnier than he knows.
|
|
|
|
/* the Ruford / ijustdunnoanymore subtext is a deliberate writer-side tell for later installments. Audience can read it or not. */
|
|
|
|
Starboy makes a kiss at the camera, then an obscene gesture, then another kiss. He exits.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
Same void. **AGATE** walks in—long, lithe, cream-and-coral feathered chimera, white spiral markings on the haunches, big avian wings folded. Quiet. Poised. Single mint eye catching the light.
|
|
|
|
**Agate**
|
|
*LoonyAgate*
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (V.O.)
|
|
Patient as sand. Soft-spoken as fog. Knows the map you're about to walk into and will absolutely not warn you. He is here because he was invited. That is all he will say.
|
|
|
|
Agate dips his head, a half-bow, and the tail-tuft flicks once.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - SAND FLOOR
|
|
|
|
All five champions now stand in a loose arc across the arena floor. Azure fidgets at the head of the arc. Rooster's beak tracks slow across the room. Ubear stares at the dais. Starboy is chewing something. Agate is still.
|
|
|
|
Rain nods to Adrian, who flips the rulebook open with the lazy authority of somebody who wrote it.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
Three rounds. Nobody dies—this isn't that kind of colosseum, bro.
|
|
(beat, to Rain)
|
|
...right?
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Correct.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(back to floor)
|
|
Round one: reflexes. Round two: audit. Round three: the bow. Eliminations carry; you lose a round, you stay on the floor but you don't score. At the end, the dragon calls it. The dragon's call is final.
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
What's "the bow"?
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
You'll know.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(light, almost kind)
|
|
Begin.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - ROUND ONE: CRASH COURSE
|
|
|
|
/* Reflex chaos. Play like a game-show obstacle gauntlet, not a death match. Streamer UI aesthetics translated into physical set pieces: giant floating chat-message blocks on chains, a spinning EMOTE WHEEL, pyrotechnics fired by SUB ALERTS. Runtime budget: ~4 pages. */
|
|
|
|
The arena floor rearranges itself—literal hydraulic rumble—into a course of **SWINGING CHAT-BUBBLES** (oversized speech balloons on chains), a **SUB-ALERT CANNON** (fires harmless but blinding confetti on a trigger), and a rising, lowering **EMOTE WHEEL** bearing cartoon-dragon-face icons.
|
|
|
|
Starboy sprints first. He ducks the first swinging bubble, eats the second in the chest, and cackles on his back.
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
(from the floor)
|
|
TEN OUT OF TEN, WOULD GET MERKED AGAIN—
|
|
|
|
He rolls clear.
|
|
|
|
Rooster follows—the cowl billows, the beak leads—and he moves better than he should be able to move under all that fabric. The crowd reacts. The beak doesn't.
|
|
|
|
Ubear lumbers. The mechanical arm tanks through a swinging bubble, gears whining. He does not duck. He does not need to.
|
|
|
|
Agate moves last, slow, unhurried, and the course seems to open around him like it's apologizing.
|
|
|
|
/* save Azure for last — he is the drama. */
|
|
|
|
Azure steps up. The confetti cannon fires early—direct hit. He shrieks, slips, catches himself on a claw, and then, because he is Azure, recovers into an unnecessary pirouette. The Cena shirt nearly trips him.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(panting, to the dais)
|
|
I did not *technically* fall, my lord!
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(dry, enjoying it)
|
|
Noted.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(marking his clipboard)
|
|
Didn't fall. Did style.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
*Style*. Thank you, Adrian. I have always *respected* you.
|
|
|
|
Adrian does not look up.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
Mm-hm.
|
|
|
|
The sub-alert cannon fires a second volley. Azure shrieks again, louder. He stumbles through the rest of the course in a cloud of his own confetti, arrives at the finish line upside-down against a chat bubble, and raises one claw in triumph.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
Survived! Unscathed! Beautiful!
|
|
|
|
Rooster's beak swivels at him, slow and judgmental.
|
|
|
|
Starboy applauds from the floor, still on his back.
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
That was *unreal*, bro, never stop.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - ROUND TWO: AUDIT TRAIL
|
|
|
|
/*
|
|
Knowledge / metadata test. The arena reconfigures into a ceremonial COURT ARCHIVE: five plinths, each bearing a SCROLL. The scroll is a ban log—five real-looking ban entries (proofread; or invent fictional handles to avoid clashing with real mods). Each champion must identify WHICH ENTRY IS A FAKE planted by the dragon.
|
|
|
|
This is Azure's event. Set it up so the audience doesn't notice yet—play it like any of the others could win. Then reveal Azure's uncanny fluency.
|
|
|
|
Runtime: ~4 pages.
|
|
*/
|
|
|
|
The arena reconfigures. Five stone PLINTHS rise from the sand. On each, a long parchment SCROLL unrolls itself with a ceremonial snap. Runic chat-script crawls across them.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Five bans. One of them is mine, but I did not write it. One of you has ninety seconds to tell me which is the forgery.
|
|
|
|
He steeples his claws.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD (CONT'D)
|
|
Anyone may read. Only one of you may guess.
|
|
|
|
The champions approach their scrolls. Ubear scowls at his and doesn't bother pretending to read. Rooster's beak bobs thoughtfully over his. Starboy reads the first line of his aloud:
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
"Banned for asking the dragon if his—"
|
|
(squints)
|
|
—is this real? This is amazing.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
It is real. That one is real.
|
|
|
|
Agate has finished reading his. He looks up calmly, says nothing, steps back. Done.
|
|
|
|
Azure has not moved to a single scroll. He is standing in the center of the plinths, rotating slowly, reading all five *from where he stands*. His slit eyes flick. His lips move, counting.
|
|
|
|
Ubear notices. Ubear does not like it.
|
|
|
|
UBEAR
|
|
(muttering)
|
|
He has no business being good at this.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(not looking up)
|
|
I have *every* business.
|
|
|
|
He steps forward, places a single claw on the second scroll.
|
|
|
|
AZURE (CONT'D)
|
|
This one. The timestamp's wrong. You don't write bans at that hour, my lord. You write them right after stream, when you are still mad. This one is two days delayed. Also the reason field is too clean. You're messier when you're mad.
|
|
|
|
Long pause.
|
|
|
|
Rain tilts his head. The warm-hosting-voice slips, for one small second, into something else—genuine, quiet, assessing.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
...correct.
|
|
|
|
Azure straightens. The Cena tee un-bunches. Adrian, at the desk, writes something down without looking at anyone, and taps his pen twice against the clipboard—a tell Rain clocks and files.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(quiet, to Rain)
|
|
Mm.
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
(quiet, back)
|
|
Mm.
|
|
|
|
Azure does not catch any of this. He is too busy soaking in the first real approval he has received in months.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
(delighted)
|
|
I *knew* my evenings in the audit channel would—
|
|
|
|
RAINCLOUD
|
|
Round three.
|
|
|
|
AZURE
|
|
—yes my lord.
|
|
|
|
CUT TO:
|
|
|
|
INT. THE COLOSSEUM - ROUND THREE: THE BOW
|
|
|
|
/*
|
|
Social / loyalty test. Here is the real gauntlet.
|
|
|
|
Setup: the arena is cleared. In the center of the sand, a single object: a ceremonial BOW (weapon, not a gesture—until it is). The rules, as Adrian explains them, sound cruel. The rules, as they play out, are a test of whether any champion will sacrifice their standing to protect the throne.
|
|
|
|
Runtime: ~5 pages. This is where the movie earns its ending.
|
|
*/
|
|
|
|
The plinths have sunk. In the exact center of the sand floor: a slim black **ceremonial BOW**, an arrow nocked but not drawn, resting on a velvet cushion on a knee-high iron stand.
|
|
|
|
All five champions flank the bow in a wide circle. Adrian closes his rulebook.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
One bow. One arrow. One shot.
|
|
|
|
He pauses.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN (CONT'D)
|
|
Whoever fires it at the dragon wins the round.
|
|
|
|
A beat. A real one. Starboy laughs, because Starboy doesn't know what else to do.
|
|
|
|
STARBOY
|
|
Come on.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN
|
|
(mild)
|
|
Nobody gets hurt. Dragon's a big boy. It's theatre.
|
|
(beat)
|
|
But the score is real. Winner of this round is ahead going into the verdict.
|
|
|
|
Rooster's beak swings to the bow and does not swing away.
|
|
|
|
Ubear's mechanical arm flexes once. Gears click.
|
|
|
|
Agate has not moved. Agate will not move.
|
|
|
|
Azure looks at the bow. Azure looks at the dragon. Azure looks, briefly, at Adrian.
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN (CONT'D)
|
|
On your own time.
|
|
|
|
Silence. A long one. The crowd hush is a physical thing.
|
|
|
|
UBEAR
|
|
(grumbling)
|
|
Stupid game.
|
|
|
|
He steps forward anyway. Reaches for the bow.
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
*/
|