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JoJo's Bizarre Adventure OC Tournament #5: Round 1 Match 20: Casey Williams and Manta Malaise?

The results are in for Match 18.
The game was lasting quite a long time, with Red Carpet Renaissance’s more aggressive playstyle hardly giving the room to breathe to the carefully-crafted tactics of the Sharp Lookers, but those very same plans at once keeping them from finding themselves getting clicked.
Violet Lange was watching, still, invested in how the hell this could keep on going, what might finally turn the tides, only for her cell phone to vibrate, a text message appearing on it from a contact registered under: “C. Williams”
waiting at docks
we still on?
“Oh, shit, what time is it?” Violet glanced upwards slightly, and cursed again as she realized what hour and minute read. “Yeah, I gotta go. Uh…” She waved at the ongoing game. “See ya ‘round, guys, you’ve been totally great!”
Nobody noticed her walk away.
Nobody wins! For an equal score of 66, everyone’s time was wasted!
Category Winner Point Totals Comments
Popularity Sharp Lookers 19-10 Things seemed even for most of the voting period, with many of the votes being split, but late into it, a modest number of Sharp Lookers votes translated into a massive lead. For the first time, this resulted in votes splitting perfectly by .5s when the division was done, and since it would mean taking a point away from one side to give it to the other, that thirtieth pop point simply vanishes into the aether…
Quality Red Carpet Renaissance 20-22 Reasoning
JoJolity Red Carpet Renaissance 17-24 Reasoning
Conduct TEAM 10-10
Half an hour later…
“Uh… Kisa?” Masa asked, earning his partner’s attention. “You know how I said I’d watch the girl to make sure she didn’t pull somethin’ weird?”
“Hm?” Kitose Saiko turned to face his friend, and noticed the lack of anybody he was standing beside. “Oh my god. How… How, Masa?”
“I dunno!” He answered, sounding similarly bewildered, waving his hands as Kisa, in his frustration, lit up the entire remaining pack of his cigarettes and took a drag from each of them at once. “She just sorta… Was gone when I stopped paying attention.”
“The woman is… Gone.” Dimitri was incredulous as well. “And there goes our hints on this Black Angel! The library is surely closed by now, so we’ve wasted a day and this town knows we’re looking.”
pranked again… violet lange, u r officially… epic
As Nebula’s synthetic voice remarked that and moved to silence, Ace couldn’t help but laugh. “Vitus is gonna be pissed too, that we were dragged off to play some game instead of tailing Peres… Haahhh, man, what were we thinking? This was her job, I bet. She just needed to waste our time awhile, get us heated and fighting each other, throwing piss around and playing dirty… Gave us the slip soon as our attentions were off her. Well played, I must admit… Well played…”
“Distracting us from the Black Angel…” Dimitri stroked his chin. “And also from Peres? But I remember Laverne saying the Black Angel vigilante was banned from the Devil Blue, the hotel she works at. What could the common thread between them be..?”
“Well, I’m annoyed too… Don’t just bail on an agreement you make…” Masa answered, before adding with a slight smile. “But hey, in some good news…” He held up a gift card, waving it between his fingers. “She left the CaraMel’s gift card, 200 USD just like she said, and that place? Not just to die for, from when Ray came back with stuff from there the other day, but I hear the ‘goss’ is ‘hot’ there too, as she said in that super-exaggerated little Valley Girl voice. What say I claim this card and treat you all? Call it a, uh… Ceasefire, for now.”
gonna be annoyed if its stale by the time i can actually eat it
but ok sounds good
The game of assassin was fruitless, but the fruits of an assassination are still born, and two pairs of Stand Users fight to protect their local leaders from them. There’s still about a day to vote in that when this goes up.
Scenario:
South Aurelio - East of the Wormwood
“I am so sorry, I just lost track of time… I got these four roped into this big assassin game, and I didn’t wanna bail, but…”
Not long after Violet Lange officiated that little college game and the evening began to roll in that, again she found a Stand User’s company. Casey Williams, MFA member, sat in the passenger seat of a vibrant purple convertible, occasionally staring either at passing suburban scenery in the transition between the college town and suburban hellscape, or the way her companion’s lavender scarf billowed in the wind.
“Look, I get it, I get it, shit happens, especially ‘round Midnight Sun. You don’t need to explain.” After a few moments of silence, tapping her hands against the outer door of the car as her arm hung over the window, Casey spoke up. “I, uh… Didn’t expect you to call me, but Kirk vouched for you. Why me, for… Whatever this is?”
Violet had, that morning, asked Casey to aid her in an investigation after she finished up with some shit she had to do on campus, and still now, had said very little about what was going on sans its importance. “I trust you… For the same reason I took over the bifrost server, and the same reason I revealed myself to your team. André had faith in you all to do what was best, and, well, I have no idea what to do but follow his lead and use what power I have to do it. As for you in particular… I want to work with somebody my age, basically. No more than that.”
“If you trust me so much,” Casey said, looking to the river to her left as the pair drove along a road opposite it, admiring how the setting sun reflected upon its rippling waves, “why haven’t you told me what we’re doing, then? You sounded like it was important, so I agreed to hear you out, but you’ve still been cagey.”
“I wanted it to be in person, while we were speeding along,” Violet explained, looking out upon the road still, briefly glancing off in the distance and seeing a manor across the water, braking for a moment and pointing towards it. “See that house by the riverbank there?”
She handed Casey a pair of binoculars, and the latter surmised, “looks like a dump.”
“From the outside, and nobody has owned it for thirty years, yet…” She paused, as if she was about to say a name and reconsidered. “My contact - a high-schooler who comes and goes late at night, you wouldn’t know them, and I’m purposefully leaving them out of this, but I can vouch for their reliability - says that sometimes, late at night, delivery trucks bring perfectly good furniture to the bridge just North of here, and by morning, they seem to have just disappeared into the ground. I dunno if you pay attention to the news, but there’s a ‘Serial Killer’ who operates in this town, and besides that… Sixteen people who disappeared in this area are still missing, and haven’t had their bodies identified. The more research I’ve done lately, I’m completely certain of it. That ‘abandoned residence’ must be the ‘lair’ of this killer! It’s certainly big enough to hold that many people and then some… So I plan to break in.”
“Serial killer..?” Casey’s head tilted slightly, then, suddenly, the words hit her as Violet resumed her drive. “Wait, what? So even if you’re right, you’re just gonna bust down this guy’s door without knowing what he’s capable of? Why this? Why you, and so covert?”
“Because I’ve spent my life sneaking and slipping by to survive, clinging to stronger people. Because I used to roll with the kind of scum who would use Stands to do whatever the hell they wanted like we were better than everyone else. Because the last time I tried to get someone to take care of this killer, all she did was kill an innocent man in front of me! I’m tired of just being an ‘extra,’ moving pieces around and waiting in place, Casey. I’ve said that I just want to survive, but a friend of mine, every day, fights tooth and nail to make this place better. I’m going to be an adult and try, goddammit, and if you don’t want to do the same, I can just drop you off, and-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Casey continued, raising her hand up, and then offering Violet a confident little smile. “When did I say I was going to refuse? Hell, lives are on the line, pedal to the metal! I hear this town has like two cops, and I sure don’t see either of them around!”
“That’s what I like to hear…” Violet’s own lips curled upwards slightly, and she stepped on the gas. “We’re gonna totally tear shit up today.”
They drove along the bridge in silence from there, Casey contemplating things as they sped along, occasionally stealing glances towards the house just what was now South of them. Not long after, though, she began to grow uncomfortable, pulling her shirt’s collar over her nose. “Eugh… What’s that smell now? We pass a dead skunk or something?”
“That’s… I know this smell. That isn’t a skunk.” Violet gave a glance to her rear-view mirror, and her face stiffened. “Casey… Get out of the car, now! Ditch it!”
“What? What is-” Casey stammered, surprised and trying to hurriedly work her seatbelt off as Violet began to jerk the vehicle around, as if intended on steering the thing straight into the river. As she did so, she glanced behind her, and though the rising shape of a figure on the back of the car was hard to make out in the twilit evening, there was certainly a massive, and vaguely humanoid, and there were eyes on her.
There were so many eyes.
Slightly down the Wormwood River…
Ah, the Wormwood River. This massive landmark is a symbol of Los Fortuna in many ways. It came to exist during the city’s foundational years, it runs from the Northernmost mountains into the city itself, and quite symbolically, it splits the affluent Eastern portions of the city, highly regarded centers of culture and quality of life, with the Western, the environmentally unclean, the poorer, the portions of the city in which the greatest safety and stability comes from being within the care of a territorial gang which has earned the ire of countless other districts.
This divide was sharp and clear in the way it split the affluently beloved outer suburbs of the Woods of Aurelio, whose schools, fine homes, esteemed country club, golf course, town hall, and most of the town’s voting centers all sat in the East.
Manta Malaise thought this symbol of all which they sought to destroy a poetic place to take their pollution this evening.
“This Metropolis which is so very very burdensome to me, and this humble hamlet so tantalizingly close to it nearby,” they began aloud, just in the off chance somebody was around to hear it (and if not, rehearsal was always useful), while the diesel-burning gas-guzzling pickup truck they purchased on the resort’s tab began dumping a container’s worth of sand and grit, “I have heard it said that this location in which we are entrapped it on the decline… Yet nay, I say. At least, nary the full picture… This place is but a microcosm of all that surrounds it, a more blatant case of all that is true elsewhere, as well… A fine example for the world, it will make.”
As they spoke, a ripped-away purple car door floated by on the river, distracting them from speaking about how, if they repeat this process for a few weeks (maybe buy a new car every time), they would be able to kill the fish eggs and microorganisms that make up the key bottom of the river life’s food chain, eventually add nitrogen to the mix to toxically increase ugly and deadly algal growth, and aloud, they spoke “curious… That is a recognizable door of a quality automobile… To whom might it belong? Ah, no matter!”
Seconds later, a bloodied figure with several open wounds along its back burst from the water, clinging to dear life to the floating door and beginning to kick in Manta’s direction with surprising strength. He seemed to have tall blond hair, green pants, and a sleeveless shirt, though those all were obviously soaked and stained both with water and blood. As he reached the shore nearby them, within the range of ‘Morgana Courts Danger’, he gasped and turned onto his wounded back.
The young man who floated towards Manta Malaise said nothing, and did not even seem to notice the effects of their proximity as they approached and turned him around to get a look at the other side of the sleeveless shirt-clad figure. The life was fading from the blond man’s eyes, and his lips trembled, a faint grin on them. He did not say a word, but as Manta looked down, they realized that the phrase on the outfit he wore said more about his final feelings, the state of his body, than his voice ever could.
Ouch!
“What… What on this fetid dying earth is going on here?” They weren’t concerned, per se, but curious about the sudden arrival of this man.
He continued not speaking, bringing a trembling hand up and away, pointing softly with a single finger Southwards, slightly - towards a shabby-looking abode.
“Do you… Mean to send me there?”
His strong lips curled into a serene smile, his hand dropped, and his eyes closed.
“Nghh… I had not the time to have his final sounds heard in life a rejection of this quest, perished for naught…” Manta remarked aloud, gritting their teeth. “As if I would simply traipse towards what is not my business… Though, how did he get here through the water? He seemed to appear so suddenly…”
They looked towards their truck. The motor was still running, but it had emptied its load fine. “I am curious,” they remarked, and so, after cranking the heat and AC of the vehicle as high as it could go, they abandoned it, diving into the water to see where this dead lad may have come from.
???
Casey awoke to that same odor again, but less severely so, in an uncomfortable, unsheeted mattress in what appeared to be a bunk room of sorts. As she rose, she had to avoid scraping her arm on a rusty spring, rubbing her eyes all the while.
“Nngh, what’s..?” She looked around, and after glancing past her a few times, saw Violet laying in a similar situation, a bizarre metal collar around her neck poking out behind the scarf, but otherwise looking unharmed. “Violet..! Wake up, Violet!”
“Nnghh… What’s..?” She sat up, feeling around for her beret and putting it on, glancing at Casey. “You’ve got a weird collar on you, Casey…” She felt at her own neck, then. “Oh.”
“Look out for those things,” a casual-sounding, low voice uttered, earning the attention of the pair; a woman with dark, wavy hair and a velvet dress was filing her nails on one of the springs. Nearby her sat a cone-haired, dirty-blond high schooler, built like a football player and a varsity away from dressing like it. “When ‘that person’ brings in a ‘Stand User,’ they get a collar like that… Likes to make up little game rules, and if they break ‘em or leave, uh…” She jerked her thumb towards a far-off wall of the room filled with a few dozen bunks, in which a bloody, smoky outline shaped like a person outstretched was dried against the wall. “Poor bastard didn’t listen because the floor wasn’t literally lava… Hey, don’t jump now, yeah? That’s not the game being played right now.”
“Palmer, you’re scaring the hell out of them, and that really isn’t useful right now… We’re going to get out soon, I’m sure of it,” another young woman’s voice called out, and as the voice seemed familiar, the face confirmed it. Though her long neat hair was short in an uneven cut, the blue blazer’s sleeves were destroyed, and the bowtie was loose, it was absolutely TV personality Jillian Heart.
“Jill..?” Violet asked, tone lightening up immensely.
She took a moment to process that, but then nodded. “Hey, Lange. You and Reed doing alright? And, uh, this a friend of yours?”
“Yeah, hi,” Casey answered, “Casey Williams… College student.”
“She’s cool, yeah,” Violet promised, looking around, “where’s Chad? Not like him to run off…”
“That’s why we’re getting out soon,” Jill answered, happily, “we noticed it when you two were brought in! Broke open this statue in the courtyard and found a waterway that ‘Worm’ - that’s what the killer goes by here - has to have been using to get in and out. They have one of those ‘Stands,’ but we all can see it, so they wear it like a costume and it guards them… But Chad’s the strongest person here, and he’s been our rock through all of this! After Worm left again, he volunteered to go through it and find help, and with him, that means it’s as good as done!”
“I see… So that makes how many people left here, then?” Casey started counting on her fingers.
“Sixteen, minus you two,” Miss Palmer answered, “I’m, uh… Palmer, by the way. Drama teacher at the high school out here. Same story as everyone else here, more or less… Bet the Superintendent’d be happy to hear Elton here and Swift Taylor are still alive, though.”
‘Elton’ said nothing, still, simply sitting there, while Jill took over a bit to talk about the place.
“I think I’m gonna start getting the lay of the land, then…” Casey said, feeling the need to take the initiative. “I’ve still got my Stand with me, thankfully, and if we can’t leave just because help shows up, that means we’re gonna have to fight to get out when this killer shows.”
“Careful,” Jill warned, “there’s traps all over the damn place here… And ‘Worm’ changes them when we’re not looking, just like they change the furniture, or what doors lock how. Makes everyday in this big house hell, and it’s worst of all around the edges. Makes up most of how people die here…”
“I’ll be careful,” Casey said with a nod, stepping out into the halls of the bizarre home.
The underwater corridor Chad had needed to swim through to get out was brutal, and even Manta Malaise had felt tense handling it. Over four meters underwater, less than two meters wide, and the top of the dark, dirty, dank area was lined with rusty nails, blades, and the blood of the man who had attempted it, across a forty-meter stretch of water - slightly shorter than an Olympic swimming pool, but so much more claustrophobic, and with pressure much higher.
They managed it, however, and were they able to speak now, would have commended the amateur cameraman who only swam as a summertime hobby for managing fatally what they were able to get through unscathed carefully. At the end of this gauntlet was a straight shot up, illuminated by moonlight, and so, Manta hurried upwards, taking a breath as they surveyed the area they had come out in.
It was a large fountain on the Eastern end of a long, statue-decorated courtyard full of thorny ground. The crumbled, destroyed remains of such a statue, presumably having once sat atop this passage, was now in pieces, only a pair of outstretched arms on either side of them.
“Look out, you damnable fool! The arms, the arms!!” A theatrical voice called out, and Manta looked its way to see a figure in a top hat, three-piece suit, and black cape with a handlebar moustache and unibrow, and before they could process it, an automated voice emerged from the crumbled head at the fountainside.
Flow 24 Detected
The stone arms seized their neck firmly, and so soon after they had breathed, they could not again. It was no matter for their strong arms to easily smash these damaged ones of stone, however, and soon, they crumbled and descended into the deep. However, Manta felt a new weight around their neck nonetheless; a metal collar.
“So… You are the ‘help’ that damned Kroeger sought? Imposing and impressive-looking for sure, but entrapped like the rest of us now.” The dapper fellow complained.
“Who are you to criticise me, when you yourself are enraptured in this place as well?” Manta asked, spying the man twirling his moustache and moving to do the same with their own facial hairs as if in challenge.
“You dare insult Los Fortuna Parking Lot Magnate Born Bad? I was celebrating turning a GarfieldEATS into one, when I thought I might make my next grand step the transformation of the entire Wormwood River into the world’s largest parking lot as well!” Bad was twirling his moustache hard enough one might have thought it would catch alike. “It would have been a fortune for me, and a record for parking lot-kind!”
“That would destroy the ecosystem of all of Los Fortuna, you know… Ingenious, if more brazen and avant-garde than I might have done,” Manta answered, “tell me now. What have I been caught in?”
Through much villainous posturing, Born Bad explained similar basics of the situation to Manta that Jill had for Casey.
“So my own curiosity has laid me in this ‘Worm’s’ tunnels… Yet, at once, I think it will do to undo this as well. Entrapment here stands in my mission’s way.”
That conversation was cut short by the sound of the Westernmost balcony opening its doors, several meters above them, and a young woman with brown hair, eyes, and skin was looking down at them. She appeared, at once, confused and intimidated by their presence, which was the response Manta generally wanted to evoke.
“Hey, you! Are… Did Chad send you?” Casey asked, clearing her throat. “How is he? Is he alright?”
“If you mean the youth who died luring me here without a word, he is certainly deceased… And has caused for me a definite predicament of a pickle.”
“Wh…” She sounded taken aback. “He’s dead? H-how can you sound so indifferent? That guy risked his life to get help for us, and-”
“And I knew him not, and he got me trapped here. Why should I shed tears for his passing?”
Before this argument could escalate further, a large, pristine-quality monitor which framed the upper Northern wall of the courtyard turned on on its own, and in it, was an image of the entrance foyer of the manor. Slowly, from its floor, that that thing Casey saw before emerged, idly twirling a saber in its hand and lifting it over its head as it leaped several meters into the air.
(Shout-outs to Skelly-tan for this art!)
A voice, both distorted and gargling yet perfectly coherent spoke from its wide maw. “Good evening, everybody, thanks for tuning in! It’s me, you all know me, your hero, the Conqueror Worm! Let’s give it up for our guests tonight… We’ve got a lot going on for our last big ‘game night!’ That’s right, you heard me, last one! Much as doin’ what I have here has been fun, after this, I mean to move onto bigger and better things… But I’ll never forget this place, pinky-promise!”
There was a sort of twisted, uncanny elegance to the way ‘Worm’ paced around, both as if it were limping in agony and gliding effortlessly, the camera focused on it at all times.
“Yep, Aurelio, you heard me right… Conqueror Worm is done bein’ your killer! The lot of you left in here are the end of a generation, and y’all are absolute treats to work with! So, with three Stand Users here, good an’ collared and here to have a time and a half, let’s make this a grand finale for the BOOKS! Stand Users,” it pointed its blade towards a small entranceway behind it, “that door there is locked, but also, in the right circumstance, the one way you’re gettin’ off my property without explodin’ into funny lil’ chunks! See!”
The screen, then, turned into a showing of two maps of the building, with several spaces highlighted. “I just got finished slitherin’ around droppin’ off three ‘chips’ which ya scan against your own specific collars, and then, if you’ve unlocked that mini-foyer behind me, boom! They’re off, and you’re free! I just gotta make sure you die before then, and I can do it with ease! With this body of mine, I can grab anything, put it in there, and pass through any surface I can fit on, see! And to the first person t’get out of it alive? A SPECIAL gift’ll come!”
“Didn’t mention the master key?” Another voice asked.
“Well no I didn’t, but no way they can get that offa-” The camera returned to its view of Worm, though Violet was standing directly behind it, directly waggling a keycard in between her fingers. Not much further back, Jill was covering her mouth with clear amusement. “Wh- Why you!” He swung at her with her blade, and she dodged back, and Worm threw his head back and laughed. “Well, I’ll be… How’d you manage t’pull that off? That’s on MY person, INSIDE here!”
“I started to steal things just for the rush and attention of it when I was seven years old,” Violet said something then, which the audio blurted out and her mouth was off-camera for, but the sound of which shook Worm to his core, his laughing growing slightly incredulous. As she did, she swiped the card over her collar, and it clanked to the ground in pieces. “Yeah, that’s right, I figured out exactly who you are… and now your whole audience knows.”
“I mean sure, think that if y’want!”
“Right… You probably censored it then.” She pouted, then struck a cool and casual pose. “No matter… I’ll just show them your corpse.” A big bushy white hound emerged from Violet’s person, then, ethereal and snarling and beautiful, and she called out, “This is the start of a new me! ‘Forgive and Forget’ is putting you down, Worm!”
As the Stand-dog rushed forward, he chuckled. “Keep runnin’ into white Stand-dogs lately, huh… It’s gonna end for you like it did the last one, too! You shoulda just run!”
F&F leapt into the air, taking aim for the throat underneath Worm’s pungent armor, but he lifted one arm, and as fangs sunk into that, his other swung its blade.
Violet’s face went wide-eyed and pale, and she looked down at herself, clutching her stomach and noticing how red poured out.
“Ooh, did I reach bone there? Tough break…” Worm pulled back the blade, removing it from Forgive and Forget’s midsection as the white dog dropped to the ground before its user, fading away as she fell to her knees. “Aw, y’didn’t realize? This ‘Saber of the Gold Knight’ I perma-borrowed from our local museum ain’t just a conversation-starter… I wouldn’t take it for no good reason at all!”
“Violet..?” Jill asked, stepping back towards another room, too afraid of Worm to rush to her friend’s aid. “What… What even happened? Worm swung at the air, and… And…” Panicking, despite her resolve, Jill ran into the other room, a look of clear terror and guilt on her face.
“…I dunno, blanked out there!” Worm chuckled a bit, shaking off its bitten, uninjured-looking arm and retracting the sword inside its own fetid rolls of rotten off-white flesh. “But whatever happened, that’s ONE down!” He kicked Violet into a corner to the sound of her whimpering and sighed, pacing around a bit as he held up his master keycard and sucked that, too, up in his person. “Won’t cause me much trouble like that, but I know the other two of ya are in my courtyard… Funny startin’ place, since I like to use that place for when a guest wants to just say ‘I give up! End it here!’ Real useful tool for that bit of mercy, y’know? But anyway, the show goes on, and one-on-one is more interesting anyway! First one t’get to the end, I’ll even throw in an EXCLUSIVE interview to make it worth your while! But I’m not gonna keep the viewers at home waitin’ anymore saying more, since this is already goin’ on a little while, and you’re our stars still! So, without further ado…”
“OPEN THE GAME!!! Man is that SATISFYING t’say!”
Location: The estate of the Conqueror Worm, a two-floor building straight out of a Survival Horror. The whole place is hanging with an odd smell, and walls of most of the rooms are dotted with realistic murals of bones and various body parts - given Conqueror Worm’s ability, one must wonder how they were made.
1F MAP, 2F MAP. Due to interests of character limit, the details of each room in the estate can be found here. Most of the rooms are pretty simple, though, so don’t be intimidated by that.
The players are denoted by the circles marked with their character’s initials, with Manta standing in the fountain on the far-East end of the Courtyard of Despair, and Casey standing on the Western second-floor balcony overlooking it. Worm, meanwhile, starts in the first floor’s entrance hall, marked with a question mark. The C marked squares and the M marked squares are the chips that Casey and Manta need respectively, scanning which against their collars will ‘count’ them as read. For what it’s worth, the Violet chips were in the hot tub, freezer, and conservatory, but that is completely irrelevant now.
The circles with numbers in them represent the nonstand-using Survivors present in the area. Exact details on each of them aren’t particularly important, but a list of their names can be found here. The personality blurbs and occupations listed aren’t really relevant for the match’s sake; even the sports stars have been brought to a point where they have the same stats as everyone else.
The X and Y marked rectangles are locked doors and their respective keys are somewhere on the map denoted by the X and Y marked diamonds; these function not unlike car keys; though they can be used to physically lock and unlock the door in person with a turn, it’s much more convenient that one press of the buttons on them can instantly lock and unlock every door on the map marked with the correct letter.
The “F” marked square is the keycard that unlocks the finish line room.
Several of these rooms have traps which Worm knows about, but the players will not be given foreknowledge of all of them. These are already set in stone, however, and it will be up to the attentiveness of the players in following the location descriptions not to fall victim to these; hints are provided, basically, and they’re designed not to be too hard to respond to if you see them coming.
The rooms’ ceilings are generally quite high, three and a half meters above the ground, with about half a meter of space between the ceiling of one and floor above - basically, being a story directly above or below Manta is NOT enough to be within the range of Morgana Courts Danger.
Goal: Casey and Manta, your own survival is priority number one here. Try to get yourself out of this situation alive! In order to do so, you must deactivate your own collar through the insertion of three chips placed around the facility, where labeled on the map. Free yourself and escape alive. That is your priority, and you are under no obligation to help anybody else if you have no desire to. Leaving the map for longer than five seconds without outright moving through the finish space marked on the map will result in the collars detonating, even if all three chips are inserted.
Conqueror Worm, kill Casey and Manta by any means necessary.
A player character will win if their score surpasses that of the Conqueror Worm’s, while receiving less will result in elimination. A tie will be regarded as normal.
This match, thus, has special voting rules. Basically, there are four valid voting options in this: ‘Casey and Manta,’ ‘Manta and Worm,’ ‘Casey and Worm,’ and ‘Conqueror Worm,’ depending on if a voter believes that both players manage to escape, one of them is stopped by the killer, or both of them are.
NPC Information:
‘Conqueror Worm’ Sheet
(Plain Text Version)
Additional Information:
Unless noted otherwise, all doors are wooden.
While there are several unique NPCs throughout the estate, functionally, all of them can generally be expected to act in the same way: they have 222 stats with irrelevant special skills, and generally speaking, do not want to die, and will act in accordance with things they believe to follow that end, though they are not particularly skilled in identifying traps on their own. Manta Malaise frightens them, however, so they may find they require a little more effort to convince people to follow them around than Casey would be able to. Born Bad (“1” on the map), a fellow Dastardly-looking villainous caricature and thus kindred spirit of theirs, is the sole initial exception.
Violet Lange is bleeding and unconscious, and will in no capacity be able to assist, but still alive and should remain so as long as her particular injuries are not aggravated and the game does not take too agonizingly long. The killer has already forgotten about her.
Through review of previous materials, the players do have sufficient information to correctly identify the user of Conqueror Worm, who is, in fact, a character who appeared in the previous Suburb match. They will be allotted one guess, accusation bolded, in the text of the strategy, to name the person. There is no penalty for an incorrect guess, but a correct guess will see ten bonus points awarded; to one side if only they guess it, while both receive five if both do. One hint: they were present at Match 8’s baseball game.
The chips are extremely durable, but if they are rendered inaccessible or removed from the premises, a safety switch will force them to be treated as if they were simply activated and used; Worm isn’t interested in a game where victory or loss is impossible.
The traps themselves will be revealed throughout the first segment of the killer’s strategy, and take up characters in as much, but the existence of these are an indisputable fact which the players must be wise to either avoid or work around.
Though his durability and endurance are exceptional to the point where a fight would be immensely difficult, the killer also possesses a ‘master key’ which, if utilized, can be scanned against the collars to unlock them, unlock the front gate, and unlock any of the electronically-locked doors in the facility.
Team Combatant JoJolity
Masters of Funky Action Casey Williams “No escape, huh? I didn’t want one anyway. That was never part of the plan.” You came here for a reason, even if you’re still trying to define what, exactly, that reason is to you. Whatever you think being a hero might mean in this situation, live up to the standard you define for yourself!
Judecca Highrollers Manta Malaise “The greatest threat to the peace of my heart isn’t Jotaro! It’s him! Josuke Higashikata!” This is an indubitably vexing situation into which you have been brought. While you abscond from this, make certain that you find clever ways to get back at that bastard who has entrapped you here!
???? “Worm” “‘Misconceptions’ are the most terrifying things in the world… And the consequences are even worse if you’re overly confident that your abilities and talents are superior.” You’ve made an absolute deathtrap of your estate here, and it would be a damn shame for any of that to go to waste. The more of your traps successfully go off and seriously hurt someone, the higher your JoJolity rating will go!
Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!
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JoJo's Bizarre Adventure OC Tournament #5: Round 1 Match 12 Alexis and Cybil Vs Admiral Pineapples and Rudolph

“届けて, 切なさには名前をつけようか ‘Snow halation!’”
The harpoon lodged itself into the Ocean Soul’s chest following a powerful toss from Pork Soda, the beast desperately trying to hit the tether to destroy it and release the harpoon, to no avail. The Ocean Soul had underestimated its opponents, who were currently singing some sort of song, perhaps a sort of war cry, meant to display their superior strength.
“想いが重なるまで待てずに, 悔しいけど好きって純情”
It had to do something! It released the Calamus Root in store within its mouth, ready to spit it out, before Sayonara Kodoku picked the Ocean Soul up, shut its mouth tight, and tossed it over to Pork Soda. With a thrust of its fingers, the porcine stand pierced the Ocean Soul’s eyes, blinding it.
Then, the two stands rushed at it, sending forwards a barrage of blows, breaking bones, claws, and disorientating it, before getting ready for a finisher. Pork Soda picked the Ocean Soul up by its tail and began spinning around, the rapid movement disorientating the fish and sending it closer and closer to its doom.
No, no! It couldn’t let this be! The Ocean Soul was a hunter, and even if its prey had gotten a leg up on it this time, it wasn’t going to give up! It could barely remain conscious under the pressure as the porcine stand spun it around, its already severe wounds getting exacerbated, but it had to do something!
Just one shot! Just one precise shot and it could use the opportunity to escape, to recover! The porcine stand was spinning it around by its tail, so the Ocean Soul could calculate the stand’s position! It just needed to regain its bearings, focus on getting a shot aimed, and it could use its spit to-
SLAM!
With a brutal impact, the Ocean Soul was slammed into a nearby rock. It felt itself sinking in the water as the two stands approached it, its imminent doom coming closer and closer with every movement they made.
It needed to escape, but it couldn’t bring itself to move. The two stands made their way towards it, floating above the ground as they loomed over the barely conscious beast.
Was this going to be it for the Ocean Soul?
“微熱の中 ためらってもダメだね, 飛び込む勇気に賛成 まもなく start!”
Like hell it was.
Gathering the little remaining energy it had, the Ocean Soul spat out the Calamus Root stored within its mouth, mixed with its saliva. Hitting the ground underneath the two stands, two long spikes quickly sprouted out of it and towards their bodies.
Though Sayonara Kodoku’s tough skin didn’t get pierced, the force of the growing spike sent it flying into the air, incapacitating it, if only for a moment. Meanwhile, Pork Soda wasn’t as lucky as it, the spike piercing through the left side of its body, tearing through its left leg and shoulder. The Ocean Soul couldn’t hear anything from underwater, but it was sure that its user was reeling in pain right about now.
Using the remainder of its energy, the Ocean Soul bolted away, desperately trying to remain conscious as it swam away from what it once considered its prey. It didn’t even look backwards, fearing that doing so would give its opponents the time they needed to finish it off for good. It didn’t even keep track of how far it swam, or for how long its opponents had chased it, or if they had done so at all. Its body was searing in pain, broken bones and wounds all over it.
Eventually, it couldn’t bring itself to swim any further, losing consciousness and sinking down into the ocean, not even the searing pain keeping it awake as it began to rest.
The Ocean Soul had lost, but this wasn’t the end of the beast. Though barely, it had managed to escape this encounter with its life.
The results are in for Match 10. The winner is…
‘Agnes’ Bayley and Prince Cosmo, with a score of 80 to the Ocean Soul’s 60!
Category Winner Point Totals Comments
Popularity Players 25-5 The word of the voterbase was clear: the vast majority felt that the Ocean Soul was handily defeated by the players.
Quality Players 23-22 Reasoning
JoJolity Ocean Soul 22-23 Reasoning
Conduct Tie 10-10
“AAAAGH! GODDAMIT, STUPID FUCKING FISH!!” Agnes screamed in pain while clutching his leg, body strewn onto the nearest island, carried by Sayonara Kodoku. “IT STABBED THROUGH MY GODDAMN LEG!! FROM THE FOOT, TO MY WAIST, TO MY FUCKING SHOULDER! AAARGH, DAMMIT, WHERE’S JENNY WHEN YOU NEED HER!!”
“You should be happy we got away with our lives. The Ocean Soul isn’t going to come finish us off any time soon after what we did to it.”
“OH, REAL RICH COMING FROM THE ONE WHO DIDN’T GET STABBED IN THE FUCKING LEG BY THAT MONSTER. DO YOU WANT ME TO STAB YOU AS WELL SO YOU CAN SEE HOW IT FEELS?!” Agnes started rummaging around his surroundings with his right hand, searching for a sharp object to use for his “demonstration”.
“Frankly, you deserve it. Don’t forget that you are the cause for this all. Were it not for your foolishness, Webb would still be alive, and this would not have happened to you.” Cosmo chided.
“PFFF- WHATEVER!” In between his heavy breathing and pained cries, Agnes let out an audible sigh. “Fffffuck this, I’m gonna check my phone to see if there’s any connection here so that we can get the hell out of this place ASAP!” Agnes picked up his phone and pulled it up, taking a look at it.
“That will not be necessary. There is no connection here anyways, and I am certain that a helicopter has been sent out to retrieve us, or at the very least ascertain what might have happened to-” “Shut up, I’m getting a message from Cairo. ‘Don’t worry, Agnes, we have sent your location over to Vitus, and help should arrive in about fifteen minutes.’” Agnes looked at his phone in confusion. “Vitus? Who’s that asshole?”
“Vitus is the man who sent the helicopters out. The one which you indirectly crashed. Nonetheless, let me see that - I have a hard time believing that your phone is capable of picking up a signal when we’re so far away from any cellular towers.”
“And why should I care about what you believe, huh? Here, take a look for yourself!” Agnes shoved the phone in front of Cosmo's face, the dog looking intently at it and seeing… nothing beyond a simple homescreen. “What is this supposed to be. This is your phone’s home screen, and though that horrendous chimera at its center is an affront to anything and everything I believe in, there is no notification here. Could it be that you are perhaps hallucinating from the pain?”
“Wh- you can’t see it?! Don’t fuck with me!” Looking at the dog’s deadpan expression, Agnes could tell that that wasn’t the case. He looked over at the phone, spotting it right there, as clear as day - a notification for an sms from Cairo themselves, containing what he read out loud! “Fuck you, I’m not hallucinating! If anything, you are!”
Cosmo was about to retort, when he spotted something over the distance - a sailboat. It was old and decrepit, seemingly having gone through significant damage and yet still remaining intact, somehow. It clearly didn’t belong to Vitus, and likely wasn’t Cairo’s either. On the boat, he saw a silhouette of a haggard man, but the distance meant that he couldn’t exactly tell exactly what he looked like.
“Someone is coming.”
It wouldn’t be much longer before Agnes and Cosmo were able to get back onland, learn what terrible things they’d missed, even if they still had a wait and a talk ahead of them. Left to nurse grievous wounds, this seaborne menace has seen this chapter of aggression momentarily closed, but further inland, the waters of a laundromat are being braved by a time traveler and a woman in chains.
Scenario:
Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - A Golden Limousine
The evening was beginning to set in, the lights of the islands of the area beginning to flash on and dot the sky as two women rode through the city, looking out through the windows as they relaxed in luxury. Cybil Antoine was one to travel in style, and now, with a companion in tow, was no exception.
“A strip that absolutely comes alive at night… Makes me feel almost nostalgic for Vegas,” her redheaded travel companion mused as she looked out, “speakin’ of which… you ever play anything like that, Cyby? Cards, slots, so on. We could try Heartache Casino, maybe, if we have time sometime… I bet you’d just have to throw your name around to get up on its higher floors.”
“It’s Cybil,” the wealthy woman emphasized, with an exhaustion begotten by this having been far from the first time, “or Miss Antoine… Either way, I am not a ‘Cyby.’ Get it right next time, alright?”
“Right, yeah, I know you’ve told me… I’m just a nicknamer by heart. Cross my heart, though! It won’t happen again!” Alexis Williams seemed… As serious as she could get about something like that, as curiously carefree, even devil-may-care, as the performer could get.
“Commit it to memory, then. Despite how much a fool you can act, I’m sure you know how much I had to pull to get you onto this stage.”
“Believe me, I do appreciate it!” Alexis answered, focus now turned away from the topic of gambling and onto that. “Putting on a show at one of the biggest stages in Los Fortuna, bigger than anything I’ve done before… I know our group has had some bad luck lately, with Bucket causing that trouble down at the fish market, and how down on herself Leo has been since that dumb show she said she got roped into, but we’re still the freakin’ Judecca Highrollers, right? I want to show the world that, and from their box, I want to show the rest of our team that we’ve got no better option than to face it all with a grin.”
“How very like you,” Cybil answered, neutral in her tone, careful not to betray the affection in such a statement as she pondered their current status, where they would be playing.
Alexis wouldn’t be headlining, unfortunately, though admittedly, her act wasn’t the sort of thing that did that anyway. Rather, a certain piece of immensely beloved local talent, a rocking performer who went by TD/MD, would be having her play immediately before her at the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, just a drive over a rapidly approaching bridge away. Cybil had been a little annoyed that one of her statues had been overshadowed by a plane crashing near it, not to mention had a desire to spread further the local influence of their team, and so she had arranged with the heads of the entertainment industry of Los Fortuna to see to it that her personal favorite performer among the allies and associates she’d made was onstage at the best possible place for a person wanting to be noticed.
She curled her lips at a cell phone which found its way to its hand, then, narrowing her eyes at its screen. “No word back from your backing band… Where are they? How inconsiderate not to send word on this, especially at how that Mr. Sins recommended them so glowingly.”
“I’m sure they’ll show,” Alexis answered, “and if not… We can make do, can’t we?”
“Of course,” Cybil answered, only to have her eye finally drawn back out the window by the sight of a vehicle which had pulled into the lane directly next to theirs as their limousine crossed the bridge.
Another golden limousine was directly next to them now, this one almost pointedly bigger, longer, more decked out in jewelry, and it seemed to be headed exactly the same way. Cybil, rather than confused or alarmed at the coincidence, simply thought aloud, “that would probably be Mr. Sins… Speak of the devil.”
“Amazing how quickly his casino recovered from nearly burning down…” Alexis mused aloud. “I heard that one of the people who trashed it sent him to the hospital, too.”
“An overreaction I’m certain, from what I know about the man. Absolutely terrified of a little pain, a little elbow grease… I’m not one to gossip, but I can’t help but wonder how a man like him even managed to become so prominent, so consistently successful.”
“Right,” Alexis answered, smirking and putting her finger up to her lips, “I won’t spread that around, then. I know how to schmooze with that type if the need arises.”
Los Fortuna Canals - The SS Sledge Sister
Admiral Pineapples was more comfortable on his own boat, but as far as the fleet of the Masters of Funky Action went, there was no real reason to send out more than one boat for this right now.
“Man, I can’t believe nobody else is ridin’ with me,” his companion, Rudolf Pavlova, said after downing an entire bottle of water in a single gulp, on the tail end of an hourlong keytar solo. “The rest of the Masters better at least make it to the Alexander! It’d really bum me out harder than when Wrenn shot me down if none a’them made it!”
Sorry, but I’m really more the headlining type! Playing second-fiddle to a man in a speedo opening for some local star sounds fun and all, but, I’d totally just overshadow them, I bet! So I should really probably stay out of it! That sentence, clear in its passive-aggressive scathingness, had put Wrenn Aflight’s declining of this gig pretty succinctly. As the man more or less everybody on the team could tolerate, listen to, and generally have a good time with, Admiral had been tasked with asking the other star performer of the team to join Rudolf on the gig he’d accepted opening up for locally beloved rock star and all-around idol TD/MD.
Not wanting to break Rudolf’s heart, he more or less told him the short version, ‘he couldn’t make it,’ and then volunteered his own services for the younger man. “You won’t be out there with none of your allies, though, Nureyev! For I, Admiral Pineapples, will aid you in coordinating every moment of your work! This will be one of the worthiest usages of my tactical mind in a long time, I’m sure!”
“I hope you’ve gotten those hour-long solos out of your system now, Nureyev,” Pineapples warned with an amused, lax tone, “you’re only going to have thirty minutes onstage before the headliner has to get ready, and there’ll be trouble if you bleed into that.”
“I know, I know,” Rudolf answered, casually, as he slipped into an open-chested bathrobe mainly meant to function as the legal requirement of public decency until it was time to perform, “I’m not one to step on anyone’s toes, let alone the star of the show. Live and let live, yeah?”
“I’m curious, though, and you never told me…” The Admiral asked, cracking open a beverage of his own and taking a sip, “how did you manage to get such a part as this in the first place?”
“Oh, that’s simple!” Rudolf said, the thought to answer having simply not occurred to him.
A few weeks ago - A beach in the Waterfront District.
“Alright! Thank you, Los Fortuna! I’m here all day, and all night, and all tomorrow too, baby! Party never stops!” Rudolf had just finished the latest of his performances to a small crowd of beachgoers, shredding through the end of his one-man keytar rendition of 2112 and transitioning into a truly epic medley of the extended Family Guy, American Dad, and Cleveland Show OPs.
As the crowd dispersed, a corporate suit-looking type of guy, bronze-skinned with neatly-groomed hair, remained, eyeing his keytar curiously and smiling artificially. “That was an excellent show, Mr… Pavlova, I think it was? You have such an undeniable energy about you that I can see when I lay eyes upon you… You’ve star material.”
“Am I being poached?” Rudolf asked, tilting his head, “‘cuz I assure you, I am a free agent! Not about to be scooped up by some label and forced to chill out the party churnin’ out music I don’t feel in my soul.”
“Nothing so abrupt, no… I’m a Manager, representing TD/MD. You can call me Thutmose. Anyway, she has a concert approaching rapidly, and we’re struggling and scrambling to find local, new talent and performers to open for her. We’ve managed to secure a lot of artists already, but the most important spot… Playing right before her… That, still, we have a particular need for, and I think you would serve it perfectly.”
“So I accepted!” In the present day, Rudolf finished, “why not, yeah? I can spread the party to tens of thousands at one of the biggest venues in town!”
“Scouted on the street, hm… That’s awfully lucky.” Something about this struck Admiral as odd, but he supposed it was all the more reason it was good he was backing his friend and ally up. He had a strong hunch there was more to it than appeared.
Rudolf’s party yacht would disembark soon, ported on the central-most island of the places which made up Sound’s Garden, and the party would make their way forward from there.
Sound’s Garden West Side - Outside the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater
At the same time, a self-important first step was taken out of a pair of golden limousines, one a heel clacking first out of it and a short, stocky woman in pinstripe emerging, the other dress shoes leading up to a tall, lean man in a gold and yellow tux, grinning and running a hand through his slicked-back hair.
Cybil Antoine hadn’t had the “pleasure” of a personal conversation with Tigran Sins before, but had happened to overhear some of him during her meeting with that Thutmose man, and then and there, she had known everything about him, and knew that she had already had the displeasure of knowing dozens of men like him.
Still, though, one needed to be cordial in times like this, so as Alexis came out behind her, and a very strongly built-looking, mean-looking man with brown hair and a nice vest, attached to the lapel of which was a Heartache Casino brooch (a bouncer? A bodyguard?) stood by Tigran waiting to see what he wanted or what he did, she approached the man who dared to try and be more golden than her Stand. “Mr. Sins, I believe… I believe we’ve crossed paths, briefly, but we didn’t really have a chance to speak.”
The man tensed a bit, only to relax slightly again when he saw that Cybil intended only to speak. “Cybil Antoine, right? I’ve heard you’ve been making a hell of a lot of waves around town lately, so I must say I’m excited to meet you too.” He looked back past her, towards Alexis standing and stretching outside of her team’s limo. “Would that be your star you’ve got going on? Certainly she’s got charm.”
“Hi, right in front of you,” Alexis answered, teasingly passive-aggressively waving, “yeah, I’m going up before TD/MD.”
“She’s a very important star around here, you know… So you’d better put on a show that leaves them wanting for more of the best.” Tigran’s attendant spoke, then, sounding dead serious as he looked them over. “A lot of people have come here just for this, just for her sake… It is completely imperative you keep that in mind.”
Tigran simply nodded, concurring, “couldn’t have said it better myself, Fox.”
Shortly after that, the pairs went their separate ways, shifting through VIP areas of the area of the main structure of the amphitheater, series of comfortably shielded stadium halls that it was.
“Still no sign of the band… Still no word from them either. I’m cross now.”
Alexis, then, stopped in her trail, looking at a schedule which had been printed out and emblazoned upon a green room wall. “Uh, Cybil, you’re gonna wanna take a look at this.”
“Hm?” Cybil raised an eyebrow, turning to face what her partner was pointing at, and then glared again. “Who the hell is Nureyev, and why are they listed at the same time as you?”
“There’s gotta be some kinda mixup or somethin’, man… I know about this ‘Alexis Williams’ it talks about, and hear she’s a Vegas Performer, damn fine one at that who can really strut her stuff. But we ain’t in Vegas at all, so what gives?” Rudolf himself was gesturing at a printout version of much the same piece of programming, he and Admiral Pineapples having wandered much the same series of halls.
“Hrm…” Admiral, now, took a look at the sheet himself, combing over the names before Rudolf on the list and speaking names aloud. “‘Arancini,’ ‘Tenacious-er E,’ ‘Guy and the Fieris’ Heavy Metal Barbershop Quarter,’ all as scheduled… What the hell? Yeah. We’re the only acts double-booked like this, and you say you don’t know this woman personally?”
“Not in the slightest,” Rudolf said, “never laid personal eyes upon her! So maybe there’s a typo, yeah… I know! We could track down Thutmose! But, uh… Where the hell’s Thutmose right now?”
A distorted voice shout-whispered, “I heard that he was visiting TD/MD’s green room.”
“Huh? Oh, thanks!” Rudolf accepted that advice uncritically, beginning to make his way, but Pineapples looked, at least, in the direction it came from, seeing then flashes of a short-looking person in a maroon turban, face bandaged but mouth section bulging with something hidden underneath, and a pair of aviator goggles, as well as a tunic, trousers, and many bulky scarves adorned in the forms of climbing stick figures.
Looking at the man, Pineapples couldn’t help but feel suspicious, but hell, there was a lot shady going on here. “Yes, thank you, Mister… Who am I thanking?”
“No,” the figure answered dismissively, “think little of it… I’m just another interested party watching the show. If there’s confusion, then, I want to see it resolved fast! If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to make my way to my box…”
“Strange man…” Pineapples shook his head, not wanting to leave Rudolf alone to deal with this strange situation. He knew from hearsay and rumor that there were some truly dangerous things lurking in the bowels of Sound’s Garden, and Rudolf, more heart than head, was bound to be barreling into it.
Sound’s Garden - The largest and nicest green room in the halls of the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater.
Metra Doria sat before a makeup chair as assistants fussed and fussed with her hair, her face, her clothes, occasionally being met with polite thanks, compliments, or idle chit-chat, representing a sort of familiarity the team had had with the pale, short-dark-haired girl with a single blue streak through her front left locks. She stared at her own dressed-up eyes in the mirror, one silver, one blue and at once black-striped through the iris. As she sat here, initially clad pretty casually and low-key, she was Metra, but as the outfit she had selected was put together, she would become TD/MD.
She was being cordial before now, but all of the small talk had ended as soon as her manager came into the scene, knocking, being invited to come in, and then doing so.
“How’s the show going, Thutmose? I wish I could see Guy and the Fieris do their thing, but… Makeup, I swear.”
“There’s… People insisting upon speaking, Metra. They’re performers, the ones before you, and they seem annoyed. I tried to shoo them away and tell them to work it out, but that only incensed the old-timers with them, and now they want to speak to you. I tried telling them it was a waste of your time, but-”
“This close to going on?” Metra narrowed her eyes at the reflected form of her manager. Always, it was one thing after another with this guy. Though most of the time, one might assume there was something not worth it going on here, she knew Thutmose well enough to know there might be problems. She sighed, shutting her eyes now. “It had better be important… Let ‘em in.”
And like that, a quartet of two twenty-somethings, a middle-aged woman, and an old man barreled in through the door at once, all talking over one another and expressing confusion with the other’s very existence and presence. It was making the half-prepared girl more uncomfortable than sitting in a chair for awhile just to get ready for a show often did, so she raised her voice, calmly but authoritatively, literally seeming to drown out their babbling in the process. “Quiet down, alright?! One at a time.”
There was a little more whispering among the four, then, and it was the pinstripe-suited woman who stepped forward among them to speak the crowd’s mind. “TD/MD, I presume… This ‘Thutmose’ man, he has made a grave mistake in the scheduling. My associate Alexis here, and this half-nude man carrying a keytar around, they have not met before today, and they certainly did not intend to collaborate before you. Your manager has refused to listen to reason about this, so we are taking the matter straight past him to you… Resolve it at once, and we can be on our way.”
“What?” Metra, facing them all, blinked, shaking her head and glaring at Thutmose. “Again? How does this keep happening? You overbook acts right before me, and it’s such a disaster I’ve started to need to allot extra time to cleanup guys after those sets… It was bad enough before, but it’s seriously getting out of hand, man. I can’t keep dealing with you if you treat everyone else you deal with like this. You’re done working with me. We’re through.”
“B-but… But Metra..!” Thutmose was flabbergasted, looking almost terrified at the prospect. “Please, be reasonable..! I need this job, understand? I’ve got gambling debts, and-”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” the keytarist (Rudolf, or Nureyev, according to the program) interjected then, “let’s not ruin a man’s life over me and Lexy here, yeah? I looked into the history of this place, the Alexander Dickinson… Named after a big dead deal Philanthropist, so basically a dude from the 90's who gave his all to culture in this city, funded all kinds’a stuff! Would a man like that want a man to be fired in his own memorial stadium?”
The logic seemed to confuse nearly everyone there, not least of all Metra, whose response, after a moment, was, “Huh? You… Are you saying it doesn’t bother you?”
“He’s saying that!” Thutmose pleaded. “I am certain he’s saying that!”
“I don’t mind, either…” The redheaded Alexis said next, nodding and looking around at nothing in particular. “Yeah, I think we can work with that… The band he set us up with bailed on us anyway, right? So… Music might help, and it’s not like the things we do step on each other’s toes, yeah? So whatever, I’m sure we’ll still leave a bigger impression.”
Cybil, then, pursed her lips. “If it doesn’t make a difference to you, then, and we’re all on the same page… But still, this is so very inconvenient.”
“Agreed…” Pineapples looked to Thutmose. “Be more responsible in the future, aye? I think even if you keep your job right now, you’re gonna be on thin ice for now. And give up on gambling, if it’s sunken you this far.”
Metra nodded. “Agreed. I can’t guarantee I won’t start looking for a new manager, but… You’ve been good to me, at least. Clean up your act.” Then, she looked over the quartet. “I’m seriously sorry about this… You say you had backup, but they’re not showing up now? I, uh… I don’t know what happened to whoever those were, or why they fell through, but I have something I can do to help both of your shows exist at once: six of the best stagehands I've got.”
At that, the star snapped her fingers, and from the shadowy corners of the room emerged two trios, three men in a pose one well-versed on incidents in the early 20th century Roman Colosseum might compare to Awakening One’s Masters appearing before the Masters of Funky Action, three women in turn also sliding in before the Judecca Highrollers in perfect sync, stepping in with the coordination one might associate with, as a weird example, teenage mobsters jazzed about a dude being sent to the ninth circle of hell.
All six were muscular, clad in black sleeveless shirts, leather gloves, pants, boots, and bandannas over their heads, and all around, they gave off auras of immense reliability.
“Harry, Mark, and John, and Thorn, Dusk, and Luna… I kid you not, these guys can basically do anything and everything you ask of them. If they didn’t much prefer supporting other people to being in the limelight themselves, they would be as big as I am. Treat them well, they’ll learn fast, and they’ll be invaluable to making your bits work. But, uh… I’d hurry it up. Guy and the Fieris probably only have a couple more encores in them, and then you’ll have fifteen to set up. I wish you all luck..!”
Metra Doria had been a bit of a miracle for the grateful performers and put-off older supporters, who had in turn both begun to explain their intended strategies and how those might change to their crew members, who understood alarmingly fast.
“Man…” Rudolf whistled in relief, chuckling. “What a scare that was… But you, Lexy? You’re alright, actually.”
“Thanks,” Alexis answered in turn, still trying to figure this guy out, “you don’t seem bad yourself… I almost kinda feel bad that we’re gonna totally eclipse you out there.”
“Y’think so, huh?” Rudolf answered with a grin, pointing forward with a friendly competitiveness. “Well, the party don’t get drowned out by a damn thing! I’m gonna get all these good people pumped as hell, and they’ll be cheerin’ for me even when that Metra chick goes on!”
“Ooh, I’m starting to feel a bit competitive…” Alexis answered, good-naturedly chuckling and folding her arms. “Wanna see who gets the crowd more pumped? Loser, uh… Buys the winner overpriced concert t-shirts. These things need stakes, right? Heh…”
At the somewhat tongue-in-cheek suggestion, Rudolf nodded. “Sure, yeah! That, and the pride of bein’ one of the best in the city! May the best team win!”
OPEN THE GAME!
Location: The Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, one of the biggest outdoor venues in the entirety of the Metropolitan area, in the buildup to TD/MD’s headlining act, wherein both of your teams have had a performer set to open for her. The place is packed at a capacity of tens of thousands of people.
The stage is a competently designed semicircle which is roughly 30 meters across for length and maximum width, with plenty of room all over and the various necessary fixtures upheld off the ground. It is raised up about 2 meters off the ground. Its back half is partially covered by the overhanging roof of the backstage area a dozen meters above.
The backstage area spreads out about 10 meters from both sides and the back of the stage, being somewhat indoorsy and absolutely full of things one could expect an excellent stage production to have, including, of course, sturdy rafters which lead up to the ceiling area overtop the stage. Both sides have had time to arrange for some extra things to be brought in.
Goal: With a leadup of fifteen minutes before acts, and a half an hour where both of your performers are onstage at once, you have a show to put on, and that is not getting ruined by this overbooking. So, with Rudolf and Alexis up on stage, and Pineapples and Cybil each operating their abilities and managing a three-person stage crew, outperform your opponents!
Given the vastly different skill-sets of the competitors, the goal is to execute on your vision better than your opponent executes on theirs. You will be judged and voted on the following criteria, in decreasing priority:
  • Feasibility - Whether your performance is actually within the bounds of what your Stand and Stats would imply.
  • Skill Use - A close second in relevance; how well you integrate your User Skills and Stats into your performance. While your Skills will help in completing this objective, they do not provide an automatic advantage by merely existing and must be woven into your strats, as per usual. Even the best of artists can have abysmal live performances.
  • Stand Use - Similar to the above, and similarly important. How cool, creative, and well-integrated is your Stand use. Put another way, wow the judges, voters, and viewers at home! This is more or less just the same as before.
  • Environment Use - How well you use and integrate the auditorium - its features, its backstage, its stage, and the hearts and passions of its occupants - into your performance.
  • Efficiency - How much quality footage you obtain and how well you use your time. This does not mean that setup for more complex performances is automatically penalized, but do try to minimize ‘deadtime’ and maximize the amount you perform.
Additional Information: There is a huge simp for TD/MD in the audience of the match, and he is connected enough that he will have both of you successfully and canonically killed if you ruin the show before the headliner can go on; therefore, murdering your opponents or audience members (“the ol’ Abraham Lincoln Tech” as they say in the biz) on an audience member is a loss condition. Not at all a moral thing for the record.
Stage Crew members for the respective teams (Harry, Mark, and John on the MFAs, Thorn, Dusk, and Luna on the Highrollers, if you care about their names) have 4s in strength, agility, endurance, Stagehand, and Backup; pretty much, anything their associated team asks them to do, they’ll be able to do, at minimum, competently. Though they won’t, like, murder for you. Generally you can use them for moving props on/off stage, extra bodies or on-stage back up performers, speaker and soundboard control, and/or on-stage camera crew as well as managing any other stage controls. Pretty much everything save for pyronetics and lighting is in their purview.
There are also dedicated lighting guys, totally neutral in your squabbles, who are going to do an entirely too good job adjusting their focus and making things work exactly as is needed so attention is on the stars of the show. They will also be coordinated with a third party camera crew that will be streaming the live feed onto screens for the audience. These feeds can be replaced or split screened with your own crew’s footage, but otherwise they will generally be in control of what is shown on-screen.
Players can be assumed to already have well-rehearsed their plans of action, the in-universe basis for the modified plans of the match, and have knowledge about every aspect of the stage, even if parts of their initial plan obviously need to be modified to account for new challengers also occupying stage space. If something performance related isn’t insanely, “years of training to do competently required” level hard, but would still require some practice ahead of time, they have had it to, at absolute max, somewhere between a 2 and a 3. Players, don’t overly-game this, though; the ‘stars’ of your performances should be the sheeted unique abilities of you, your skills, and your Stands.
All stands can be seen on camera and on the live feed for the audience's viewing pleasure.
Team Combatant JoJolity
Judecca Highrollers Alexis Williams “This one is for the guy who keeps yelling from the Balcony, and it’s called ‘We Hate You, Please Die.’” Gymnastics is a sport of rhythm and pace, this performance should be no different for keeping your momentum. Make as seamless transitions as you can between the acts of your performance!
Judecca Highrollers Cybil Antoine “Prepare to have your minds obliterated by… The boys! And Crash!” You have a whole crew of people working for you here, no need to do any heavy lifting by yourself. This is their job after all, better put them to work since that’s what they are here for. Make the most use out of your stage hands in your performance!
Masters of Funky Action Rudolf "Nureyev" Pavlova “What is with this band? They’ve… changed. Have you noticed they don’t have instruments? Where’s all this amazing noise coming from?” Keeping the audience’s attention for a full 30 minutes should be a piece of cake for the world’s greatest dancer, you can keep the party rocking even between your different acts. Make as seamless transitions as you can between the acts of your performance!
Masters of Funky Action Admiral Pineapples “You and your fireballs and your demon hipster chicks / you’re talking the talk and it’s pretty slick / You think you’re so great, but you’re missing the point / You gotta have friendship and courage and whatever!” You’re all in this show together, you and your crew of stage hand. Everybody should be contributing here, no man left behind. Make the most use out of your stage hands in your performance!
Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!
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First Contact - Part Forty-Four

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Ullmo'ok was a bad Lanaktallan. His mother and father had always told him so. He was uninterested in money, he was uninterested in power, he had little to no interest in politics, and he didn't care one way or another for rules. The last would have been understandable if it involved the first three in any way, but Ullmo'ok's idea of a fun evening was getting together with some friends, all of the them from the UnCivilized species or the neo-sapients, hacking a car's computer, and roaring around the city in it.
The final straw had come when Ullmo'ok had gotten high on stim-grass, stripped naked, painted himself red with the crowd suppression paintgun, stolen a LawSec cruiser and driven it on a two hour chase that had culminated in Ullmo'ok deliberately crashing the armored vehicle into the river and standing on top of it as it sank, rearing up to show his genitals to the TriVid cameras, his jowls full of stimgrass. He'd had a gun in each hand, taken from the LawSec cruiser, and kept shooting potshots at the cameras until a LawSec sniper had tagged him with a stunner rifle. The sniper had been forced to shoot the young Lanaktallan three times to drop him.
It was put up to the jowls full of stimgrass.
His parents had been horrified. His friends had found it hilarious. LawSec had taken the bribe and looked the other way.
Ullmo'ok had been entertained. He'd almost felt something, standing on the roof the sinking LawSec vehicle. He'd come so close but the stunner had hit him. He'd felt something then, not the ravening nerve pain that the second shot brought, not the darkness that the third shot had dropped onto him, but he'd felt something he'd never felt before.
He had been sent to where his father's uncle was in charge of resource collection in a system in the Unified Outer Systems. His great-uncle was less than impressed that Ullmo'ok had gotten intoxicated during the flight and had fallen off the gangplank and onto the spaceport tarmac, laughing like a pair of bagpipes in a paint shaker, a bottle of alk-brew in each hand and a stimstick in his mouth.
His great-uncle had tried to put him in the offices, doing busy work and just moving files and papers around down in the mail room.
Ullmo'ok had convinced the neo-sapients who worked in the mail room to fight one another in the "Pit of Fists Swinging" for the reward of time off, vacation days, and raises.
His great-uncle moved him to the warehouse, where Ullmo'ok had put together a racing rally with the wheeled ground effect forklifts with "prizes" for the winners. After that was stopped by his great-uncle he arranged a 'hover smash' where workers drove old hoverlifts and crashed into one another with the winners getting prizes. Soon every hoverlift was covered in sheet metal and spikes and mesh. Ullmo'ok himself took part in them until finally he broke one of his arms when he was t-boned by another lift. Ullmo'ok's uncle sighed and sent the young Lanaktallan out to one of the mines as soon as he healed.
Ullmo'ok himself had almost felt something when the bones in his arm had snapped and he'd whipped his hoverlift around to slam the heavy weighted end into the worker's side. He'd almost felt something when his uncle had ordered his arm set without painkillers. He'd knocked out the Umtervian medic with one hit when he'd reacted to the pain and felt a little bit of something that he had been chasing.
At the mines, Ullmo'ok's uncle had despaired. Ullmo'ok had gotten bored with paperwork and supervision the first week and had bribed one of the workers to teach him to use a cargo-mech to load the raw ore into the transports. That had led to "Mech Bash" competitions where mechs smashed against each other, slamming each other with graspers or lifters, while an audience cheered. Within a month the cargo-mechs were covered in metal and spikes and painted garish colors.
A few workers were killed in the competitions, but Mech-Bash went on, with Ullmo'ok participating to the roar of the crowd.
Strangely, productivity was up. Incidents between the workers and CorpSec were down. Alcohol and drug use were up, black market trading of ration chips and CorpStore script was up, fighting was up, but the amount of lethal stabbings, shootings, beatings, and ambushes went down.
Ullmo'ok's uncle just swept all the Mech-Bash incidents under the rug. He purchased junk mechs from the other Corporate divisions, thinking maybe having older, battered, less maintained cargo-mechs would stop the Mech-Bash and having massive redundancy would replace the cargo-mechs when they failed.
Instead Ullmo'ok's band started stripping parts from the junk-mechs and adding them to the cargo mechs.
Then CorpSec reported that the junkyard where the old defunct corporate crowd control and law enforcement vehicles had been robbed.
Ullmo'ok's uncle knew exactly who had robbed it, but at least this time there was no evidence. The older Lanaktallan had boarded his executive hoverlimo and gone out to the mine, chewing narco-cud the whole way to ease his anxiety.
He could see two cargo-mechs battering each other as his hover-limo came in for a landing. As he watched in horror one of them opened up with a chain-gun that was the same type as the heavy crowd control vehicles from CorpSec used.
He could hear the roar of the crowd even through his armored limo's windows.
When he landed a small Puntimat neo-sapient lizard asked the older Lanaktallan if he wanted to purchase something called 'box seats' or if he wanted refreshments or to meet some of the 'Mech Slammers" personally.
The Uncle, who went by the name of Lo'omo'nan, harrumphed and demanded to see his nephew. Lo'omo'nan found himself escorted by two young female Lanaktallan of lower caste, secretaries for the Corporation's mining facility, dressed scandalously so much of their udders showed. Instead of taking him directly to see his nephew Lo'omo'nan was taken to a seat protected by pressor beams and armaglass.
"Where, harrumph, is my nephew?" Lo'omo'nan asked, accepting the offer of a narcobrew.
One of the Lanaktallan females pointed out at the dirt field where a cargo-mech had just walked out. The cargo mech was covered in crude metal armor, garishly painted, with chain guns, a giant sawblade for a hand, and a crudely fashioned metal spiked fist replacing one of the graspers.
"He is right there, Most High Guest," the Lanaktallan female informed the older male.
As Lo'omo'nan watched the cargo-mech raised all four arms, slamming the forearms together as the crowd roared.
The entire crowd roared so fiercely that Lo'omo'nan's tendril curled and his crests inflated defensively.
The battle was fierce and made Lo'omo'nan cringe and feel nauseous. His grand-nephew showed no hesitation, like a proper civilized being would, and instead charged his opponent and met him blow for blow. The battle ended when the other cargo-mech landed on its back with a crash and the crowd roared. Lo'omo'nan thought it strange that his nephew reached down one mechanical hand to help his opponent to their feet and raised the mech's hand with his own, to the roar of the crowd.
One of his female hanger-ons asked Lo'omo'nan if he wanted a Tri-Vid or VR chip of the battle as a souviner.
Only 24 Corpscript.
Lo'omo'nan couldn't believe that the crowd had been chanting his family name at top volume. He himself avoided crowds, which all stared and muttered as his limo moved through. He saw his nephew pushing through the crowd, slapping extended hands with his four hands, cursing loudly, and swigging narco-brew handed to him. His nephew, Ullmo'ok, was sweaty, wearing only a cooling vest and a bandage over one of his side eyes, not even a sash to proclaim who he was and what his standing was. Lo'omo'nan watched, horrified, as one of the tall neosapient mammals, a two legged Hikken, poured narcobrew on her fur covered mammary glands and his nephew pressed his sweaty face between them, shook his head, and made blubbering sounds.
The crowd around his nephew roared with glee.
Another worker being, another neosapient, stripped off her shirt, revealing scandalous flesh and fur, handing her shirt to Lo'omo'nan's nephew. Ullmo'ok wiped his face and chest and handed it back, the neo-sapient clutching it tight to her upper body, her eyes bright as she watched Lo'omo'nan's nephew swagger between a doorway.
Lo'omo'nan was led to his nephew's "office", taking a winding way. They moved through the maintenance bay where Lo'omo'nan saw maintenance techs working on the crudely armored and armed mechs. Past makeshift lounges and bars where Lo'omo'nan saw wealthy executives of the Corporation yelling, shaking fists, and shouting bets as the narcobrew flowed and the stimcud was chewed. Lo'omo'nan couldn't believe what he was seeing.
He knew that Lanaktallan, a senior executive with the Corporation, from distinguished family lineage, who's family was wealthy and powerful even by Unified Core Systems standards. The SEO was at the bar, shouting at the screen where two cargo-mechs brawled, a narcobrew in each hand of his four hands, while two small lemurian Welkret females combed the Lanaktallan's fur and rubbed his skin while sitting on his back. As Lo'omo'nan watched, the wealthy and powerful being turned at the waist to face the two on his back. The closer one took a deep drag off a stimstick held by the other one, put her hands on either side of the Lanaktallan's jowls, and blew the smoke directly into his nostrils.
Lo'omo'nan hurriedly clopped past that, closing his side and rear eyes so he didn't have to see such disgusting deviance carried on by members of his own species.
Finally he reached his nephew, who was sitting on a broken couch, a stimstick in his mouth, a Welkret female with a medikit tending to his bruises and small cuts on his hide. The younger Lanaktallan had his eyes closed, his hands at his sides, and Lo'omo'nan was horrified to see that his nephew was allowing two comely young Lanaktallan females manually stimulate him sexually as he relaxed and the Welkret tended to his wounds while loud music, prohibited by the Corporation, blared from speakers stacked in the corners.
"Nephew!" the elder Lanaktallan harrumphed, hoping the sound of his voice would put a stop to this degeneracy and debasement.
He was shocked and appalled that the two females didn't even look up, instead just leaned over his nephews back to entwine their jowl tendrils, their hands still busy. The Welkret ran the auto-suturer down a cut on his nephews flank. Everyone else cheered as an arm was torn free from a cargo-mech as the other yanked the arm straight and ravaged the joint with the chaingun.
"I perfected that move, you know, uncle," His nephew said, pointing at the screen with a half-empty narcobrew.
Lo'omo'nan yanked his attention from the huge display, normally used by executives to display data, and looked at his nephew, who was patting the rumps of the two females and shooing them away.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Lo'omo'nan demanded of his nephew.
"Getting 'patched up' to use a phrase, Uncle," Ullmo'ok answered, taking a swig from his narcobrew. "My opponent was skilled and determined. I was proud to defeat him, Most Honored Uncle."
"Honored? Honored? You destroy the honor of our line, of our name, by brawling with these... these... neo-species," Lo'omo'nan sputtered, his tendrils tight with outrage.
"If you say so," Ullmo'ok said. He twitched slightly and the Welkret snapped at him to stay still so she could scrape the emergency coagulate off his skin and suture the wound.
"Your workers cause damage to company property, costing the mine credits, undoubtedly putting this whole facility into the red! If you don't care about our honor, what about our stockholders?" Lo'omo'nan barked as best he could, inflating his crests to establish dominance over his nephew.
His nephew ignored the crests, taking another swig. "Is it money you're worried about, uncle?" The younger Lanaktallan said slowly. He signified disappointment and resignation then made a tossing motion toward the older male. "View that if all you worry about is the profits."
Lo'omo'nan snorted and opened the datafile. It was a spreadsheet of company costs and expenses balanced against income, with man hours, and expenses and income broken down.
Ullmo'ok watched his uncle digest the data that seemed so important to the older Lanaktallan but was infinitely uninteresting to Ullmo'ok himself.
Anyone can turn a neo-sapient upside down and shake the credit chits from his pockets, Ullmo'ok thought to himself. Only the best can convince them to roar out his name is frenzied appreciation.
Lo'omo'nan couldn't believe what he was seeing. The entire facility was making more profit in a single planetary cycle than it ever had in its entire existence. Membership fees, drinks and narcotics, prostitution, viewing fees, entrance fees, income from TriVid and VR chips, GalNet broadcast on shady Netsites that were pay per view only, gambling, and more. The credits were pouring in, outstripping even the cost to black marketeers for weapons, armor, narcotics. Even outstripping worker payments, taxes, everything else. The books were then cooked, using the mining and refinery plant as cover. What the refinery actually made in profit could have been listed in the slush funds compared to what his nephew was bringing in from his illegal and immoral activities.
Even more startling was that Ullmo'ok had reported every drip and drop of income to the Unified Taxation Office and paid the taxes.
Ullmo'ok watched his uncle's tendrils tremble in pleasure and gave the equivalent of a sigh of envy. His uncle looked almost orgasmic, a feeling that Ullmo'ok chased but could only taste the bare edges of.
Only in the cockpit of his cargo-mech.
"You did all this?" Lo'omo'nan asked, surprised his nephew even understood how to do multi-column accounting.
Ullmo'ok snorted in amusement. "Hardly, uncle. I pay employees to do it and pay them well."
"What if one of the neo-sapients tries to cheat you or rob you?" Lo'omo'nan asked, sure his nephew didn't understand how to keep the neo-sapients in line.
"The first one that did I had chained to the fist of my cargo-mech and pasted him against the chest armor of my opponent with a few punches," Ullmo'ok said matter of factly, as if he wasn't talking about the brutal killing of another sentient being. Lo'omo'nan stared at his nephew in horror as the younger one gave the equivalent of a shrug. "It's one of the most downloaded and paid for clips. My opponent painted over the dark blue of the dried blood with bright blue paint to remind everyone of that battle. Since then, my employees only steal about 2%, which I'm willing to overlook."
Lo'omo'nan just stared in horror. Without another word he turned around and galloped back to his limo, returning to the capital with a promise to himself that as long as his nephew kept bringing in record profits the maniacal Lanaktallan could just stay at the remote facility.
---------------------
Ullmo'ok looked at the being. Called a 'human' apparently. A bipedal primate with the closely set forward facing eyes of a predator, thickly muscles, with hair only on its head and around its mouth, with five fingers instead of four. It was dressed in clothing covered with holograms that showed cartoon female humans chasing each other and hitting one another with blunt object. It made Ullmo'ok inflate his crests with amusement.
"You know, I can replace that eye with a cybereye in about an hour," the human said, using a universal translator. "No charge. Just have the medibot do it while we conduct business."
Ullmo'ok signified his agreement with one hand, his eyes only for what the human "Junker" had brought him.
Massive robot power armor. Armor meters thick. Bristling with weapons. Designed like a biped but just oozing malice. All of them designed to appear aggressive and menacing just sitting there with their fusion reactors pulled and weapons empty or disengaged.
A spider-bot climbed up Ullmo'ok's foreleg, then up his torso, then onto his head, settling over the empty socket of his right side eye.
Ullmo'ok ignored it. A medibot was nothing to grow anxious about. He mentally braced for pain. Pain was inevitable. Pain was good.
Pain was life.
"I've got some old Terran battle-cruiser battle-screens. That should protect the crowd from any missed shots as well as provide really slamming effects when they're hit. Nothing outside a nuclear penetrator can get through that class of shields, even though they're old tech. Pulled 'em off some blown out ships back around Rigel-6," The Terran, human, Max-a-Millions said, slapping his hands together eagerly, the motion like he was brushing off dust but more animated and loud.
Ullmo'ok liked that body language. He tried it himself and found it much more satisfying than the handwringing of anticipation that most of his race used.
"That sounds sufficient," Ullmo'ok said, following the Terran's body language of nodding rather than inflating his crest in assent. He liked that too.
"Now, these mechs are civilian grade, usually used by frontier harsh environment worlds for heavy security. They'll rip a pirate ship to shreds, can go toe to toe with light armor, and can even take on your civilian government grade heavy armor units," Max said, pointing at one of the smaller mechs. "That one, right there? That can crush most heavy armor units used by your civilian governments with a single stomp. I wouldn't try taking on a Confed Mil-spec tank, that thing would rip you apart. But against anything you'll probably face? No contest."
Ullmo'ok nodded, admiring the lethal lines of the massive mech. He liked the one with the skull face, the big fists, and the retractable rotating sawblade sword in its forearm.
"So, how many do you want?" The human asked, rubbing his hands together. Ullmo'ok's implant told him that it was eagerness, not distress.
Ullmo'ok stared at all the mechs in the massive freighter's hold. Over a hundred of them. All heavily armored and armed.
"All of them."
The cartoon female humans frollicking on Max-a-Million's suit all waved their pom-poms with their eyes replaced by throbbing hearts.
-------------------
CorpSec Chief Executive Officer Moolim'ak exited his armored LawSec wagon, adjusted his sash, and trotted forward. The small neo-sapients waiting for him performed the elaborate welcoming rituals that were his due. Two lower caste Lanaktallan females, their implants marking them as food service workers for refinery executives, both trotted forward to coo at him and rub him. A Welkret climbed up on his back and began rubbing soothing narco-cream into his four shoulder-blades. He liked her, she had strong, soft hands and new how to rub his muscles just right to force knots from tension to relax.
The smell of hot lubricant, scorched metal, sweat, and anticipation filled the CorpSec CEO's nostrils and his tendrils shivered in anticipation.
He was a wealthy and powerful male of the Lanaktallan executive caste, even beyond this planet. Yes, he should arrest young Ullmo'ok and every being involved or served by the younger male's illegal activities, but Moolim'ak couldn't bring himself to even think about such a thing.
After all, where else would he see such amazing sights?
The sound of music, new music, harsh, demanding, thundering, aggressive and violent, poured over the CEO as he entered the Most High Class Executive Lounge. He merely used that entrance to gain access to the facility. He handed off his sash and badges of rank to the little Puntimat at the door, who was inside an armored cage and took all valuables and put them in registered locked boxes. The sign at the top of her armor-plast window stated a warning: "Not Responsible For Grabbed Stuff You Take In!" The CEO nodded at the warning, gave the little neo-sapient a week's worth the meal chits for the way she bobbed and grovelled as she put his stuff away, and headed deeper into the facility.
He passed the other members of his race at the clean and immaculate feeling lounges, moving past that to where he preferred. The greasy, slightly dirty, shabby lounge where the neon glowed, the music was almost too loud, and more than once some of the neo-sapients and even members of his own race threw fists over the outcome of a match or a disagreement over which cargo-mech pilot was best.
A bunch of his CorpSec men, all lower executives, raised up narcobeer and cheered him. Moolim'ak signaled the being tending the bar to bring another round to the table and clopped over to his men. They all thanked him for getting them in to the Grand Mech Bash. Something new was promised, something grand, and the alien sounded hard driving music hinted at whatever it was, it was going to be big.
When the fireworks went off and the lights went out, Moolim'ak turned to watch the oversized vid display. Sure, the tables in the executive lounges had built-in holoprojectors, but the faded and transparent holos just didn't have the excitement of the vid screens.
The little Welkret on his back tapped him and he turned around to face her. She took a drag off her stimstick, put her other hand against his left hand jowl, and slowly exhaled stimsmoke into his nostril. He inhaled deeply, gratefully, feeling the already activated stim surge into his bloodstream and shivered.
What stomped out onto the viewscreen, obviously shaking the ground of the arena, was something that Moolim'ak recognized, something he had seen in classified videos from the furious fighting against the Precursors over the last two months.
A human Warmech.
It raised its arms over its head, clasing the massive hands, and shook them while the crowd roared.
Moolim'ak was aghast. How had those war machines, some weighing as much as 500 tons, gotten to the planet? How had young Ullmo'ok gotten his grasping four hands on one? He stared as special effects froze the giant mechanized war machine, spun it around, put it in garish colors, and then detailed the weapons.
Sweat popped up on Moolim'ak's crests and he inflated them with agitation. That giant beast carried two 200mm autocannons just to start off with. It packed missiles, lasers, particle beams, something called a 'chainsword", and more. Its polyceramic warsteel laminate armor could shrug anything his entire CorpSec force could bring to bear and those autocannons would shred anything he could field.
"Yeah! Yeah!" One of his subordinates, a Senior Executive Officer cheered. "Slamsmash! Slamsmash!"
The little Welkret tapped Moolim'ak and when the CEO turned at the waist to face behind him the little mammal pressed both hands against his nose and slowly exhaled narcosmoke into first one then the other nostril. Moolim'ak closed his eyes and let the little neo-sapient put his four hands on her fur and start to stroke.
It soothed him, such degeneracy. It calmed him, indulging in such deviance. He would never do so in private or at work, but here, surrounded by pounding alien music, in a dimly lit grimy "sports-lounge", surrounded by his subordinates and other Mechbash fans, he indulged himself in vices that he would have never imagined as a young Lanaktallan in the Unified Core Systems where he had grown up.
He turned around, shifting his arms so he still reached behind him to stroke the Welkret, who tapped the inside of one arm with a narcojet, just in time to see the opponent. A giant warmech the same weight class, different weapons, painted in the garish colors of another competitor. This one armed with lasers, particle cannons, missiles, with point defense and other missile defenses.
It then pulled back, displaying the modified arena. Giant chunks of 'armor' made up of warsteel and battlesteel, glimmering energy fields, and other things to take cover behind. Plasma 'mines', auto-turrets, flamers, all kinds of hazards that the crowd could activate by throwing 'BashCash' at it in the form of work-chits, food chits, corp-script, Unified Systems Credits, even promises of favors.
The count-down started and Moolim'ak calmed his agitation by touching the little female in ways that a member of his species, his caste, his executive status probably shouldn't. He brought her around to his chest, cradling and stroking her in his four arms, while she blew clouds of narco-vape across his nose and balanced a mug of narcobrew on her stomach.
The battle started and Moolim'ak quickly forgot his agitation. Particle cannons thundered, autocannons shrieked, the shields screamed and sparked with misses that thrilled the crowd as they were only held off from certain death by the invisible hands of battle-screen projectors.
Ten fights, all between massive Terran Warmechs. Moolim'ak won as often as he lost, but by the time he was halfway through watching the fights he was cheering as often as everyone else. He broke a narcobrew bottle across the face of a Senior Executive Lanaktallan from Financial Services during the sixth fight, clasped hands with the same being and cheered during the seventh, the two males slapping each other's sides in shared joy as the mech they had been on defeated the larger one. One of his subordinates put a fist in his eye and he responded by kicking the other male in the chest to the roar of the onlookers. He bought his defeated subordinate a large mug of the subordinate's favorite narcobrew to show how gracious he was in victory. The subordinate cheered Moolim'ak's name as they all left togheter and rode home in the same executive limo.
Ullmo'ok's uncle looked at the profits from the "New & Improved Mechbash!" and had to shuffle funds around at a Senior Executive level to hide the profits. He noticed the CEO of CorpSec had a swollen eye during a luncheon, but didn't pay it any mind, CorpSec types often had to put down riots.
-------------------
The air was full of thunder as atmospheric craft roared overhead. More humans had arrived, to protect the system from a possible Precursor attack. Humans had sworn to protect the star system, had deployed massive amounts of war machines through space, around moons, on planets. Everywhere a Precursor might attack, might strike at the beings they so hated.
While other Lanaktallan had run in circles panicking, wringing their four hands, inflating and deflating their crests in fear, shaking their jowls in terror, bleating and crying out in anxiety, Ullmo'ok felt a tingling tremor deep inside. Actually felt it.
He invited Terrans to his Mechbash, comped them entrance, drinks, anything they wanted.
They had enjoyed it.
Ullmo'ok liked the Terrans he had met. Members of something called V Corps (Old Metal) that just made his tendrils coil in joy. Ullmo'ok had noticed that even their officers liked the dimmer, grimier looking lounges, more deviant and dangerous the better.
Two humans had pulled knives on each other, fighting on the floor of one of the lounges over a Puntimat female they had both been petting. Neither one had been killed but they had been injured. Ullmo'ok had ordered the Welkret 'medicos' to not use painkillers on the Terrans to see how they reacted.
Every reaction to pain brought jeers from their fellow Terrans. One who had flinched had narcobrew poured over him by his fellows.
The two knife fighters were arm in arm, cheering, less than a fight later.
Ullmo'ok was fascinated by the Terrans.
They looked... looked...
alive.
Ullmo'ok envied them.
------------------------
V CORPS COMMANDER'S MEMO
Attendance at Ullmo'ok Mech Bash Arena is permitted via recreation pass.
Please stop stabbing each other. It looks bad to our hosts when senior officers duel with knives over who gets to pet the furry xenospecies 'with great tits' no matter how much it amuses your subordinates. I appreciate a great set of mammary glands as much as the next species, but rolling around on the floor while the enlisted pour narcobrew on you is undignified. Real officers use stun-pistols at twenty paces. While dueling is legal, please refrain from doing so unless it is vitally important, like who may have stolen your last pack of Terran cigarettes.
--General Nodra'ak, V Corps, Commanding
---------NOTHING FOLLOWS---------------
KESTIMET CORPORATE MEMO
Attendance at this so called "Mech Bash" is strictly prohibited to all executives by order of Kestimet Corporate Headquarters, Core Worlds. Attendance to any of this illegal activity can result in a fine of up to three day's pay.
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]

West Virginia Woes

West Virginia has been pretty up and down this year, based solely on the location of the game. In B12 play, they have a 6-1 record when playing in Morgantown, and a 1-7 record on the road (the lone win being in Stillwater). It’s pretty well documented that WVU is one of the younger teams in the nation, with Jermaine Haley, Chase Harler, and Logan Routt being the only seniors on the team, with Arkansas transfer Gabe Osabuohien and bench player Taz Sherman being the only juniors. The young team has shown glimpses of being great; beating then-#2 (now #23) Ohio State at a neutral court in Ohio, Wichita State in Mexico, and current #22 Texas Tech in Morgantown. Because of the stark contrast between road vs home performance, I looked at some of the stats I could find from Sports-Reference, made up some math, and created some probably repetitive graphs for everyone to criticize! I had a post a few years ago where I looked at WVU’s conference performance prior to I think the B12 tournament, and then previewed the WVU-Gonzaga Sweet 16 game. As before, I will be posting the spreadsheet I used to create graphs at the end, and will refer to stats that are either included on the sheet, or linked in the body.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: In the guard stats, Sports-Reference can sort by game location, but I forgot to leave the Missouri game out. I figured most of the things I’m referencing are averages, and Mizzou landed smack in the middle of conference play, and I really didn’t want to redo my entire thing just to leave them out. Congrats, Tigers, the NCAA is going to sanction you for this.
The first thing I wanted to look at was the guard position. We have 4 main guards that play; Chase Harler, Emmitt Matthews, Deuce McBride, and Jordan McCabe. We have been a very turnover prone team, averaging 14.8 turnovers per game, and an abysmal 15.3 per game in conference play. It’s somewhat contested who our best Guard is; Harler has been inconsistent and plagued with poor passing. Matthews has been hot at times, but cold other times. McBride has been our best point scorer, but is also TO-prone. McCabe has basically lived in the Huggins dog-house, and has produced very little offense. I wanted to see the stats separated by home and away, however, as the stark difference in performance was obviously split by location. Here is a section of the Guard Stats sheet posted as a table for reference:
Player Home Away
Harler
TS% 51.00% 40.64%
eFG% 50.00% 39.39%
Pts/TO 10.25 7.4
Matthews
TS% 50.52% 25.51%
eFG% 46.88% 22.97%
Pts/TO 4.33 7.4
McBride
TS% 53.75% 46.66%
eFG% 50.70% 43.65%
Pts/TO 7.45 6.09
McCabe
TS% 50.19% 37.52%
eFG% 50.00% 37.50%
Pts/TO 3.20 1.57
As we can see, Harler looks far and away the nest both at home and on the road, and plays the 2nd most minutes on average at 18.4 and 19.5 home/away. He doesn’t turn the ball over much, and scores when he shoots seemingly well, but he hasn’t had bulk production, with 41 pts and 37 pts H/A. McBride has been our main guard, averaging 22.5 and 22.25 minutes H/A with 82 and 67 pts respectively. McBride seems to be the best of both worlds, with point production and fewer TOs than other options.
The most puzzling aspect of this seems to be Emmitt Matthews shooting splits; he shoots well at home, but horribly on the road. His turnover-prone passing leads to him seeing the 2nd least amount of court time. McCabe has good numbers at home, and decent shooting away, but has some pretty abysmal Pts/TO. He suffers from being a highly-touted Huggins prospect, as he will get pulled and sit for the remainder of a game if the mistake was deemed bad enough by Huggs as well. Another thing I noticed was the FT shooting disparities of home v away for Matthews. At home, Matthews is 10 / 15, but on the road he is 3 / 5. This leads me to believe that Matthews is not playing the same on the road as he is at home. I’m unsure of how FGs are recorded with a foul committed, but Matthews has 16 2pFGA at home vs 25 on the road. Is Matthews driving the basket the same way on the road? I am leaning towards no. While these #s are damn near 1 shot a game difference, Matthews has a pretty disparate play-time, anywhere from 29 minutes to 11 minutes (there is a 10 minute game, but I think he was injured during a play against KSU).
As much as it pains me to say, I think Harler needs to see more time at the expense of McCabe. His shooting numbers are 2nd best on the team, he has not been in foul trouble throughout the entirety of conference play (3 PF at most in any given game), and he is relatively careful with the ball. There just is no good reason to continue giving McCabe the minutes he is getting at this time.
Now, this write-up isn’t just to point out guard play, but the team as a whole. Looking at the Offensive #s produced H/A, we see that shooting in general is worse on the road. Hardly the revelation of the century, but it is worth at least a mention. However, the larger culprit is the DRebs. For a team that prides itself on getting the ball, we are being outmuscled on the road. At this point in the season, we’ve played near every team in the conference twice. The OReb numbers are similar, but the DReb numbers are lacking. In our home games, we’ve dipped below 23 DReb one time; a home loss to KU. On the road, we’ve reached 23 DReb twice; a road loss with 23 to KU, and our lonesome road win against OKSt with 30. We are being outmuscled on the road on the defensive end, despite defense and rebounding being both strong aspects of our team. We’ve been outrebounded 1 time; TTU pulled down 16 OReb to our 12 @ home. Outside of that, we’ve beaten teams outright every time except for KU tying us on DReb. On the road, the numbers are much different on the DReb side. We aren’t fighting for position, or coming down the rebounds we seemingly do come down with at the Coliseum.
Here are the defensive allowed #s, but I’m pretty sure it’s somewhat redundant and not much extra info. It is worth saying that the shooting% in general is pretty high, and I imagine that is because of our defensive mindset. We love to pursue the perimeter shot and leave guys open elsewhere on the court, and that leads to easy baskets and open 3s. I imagine this is also part of the reason we are losing so badly on DRebs is guys are overcommitting and we are losing the position battle underneath the basket.
Now, the one upside to this is that WVU looks to be a pretty decent bet to make the tourney, and we haven’t had these issues at neutral sites. The quality of opponents obviously isn’t the same, but we’ve beaten good teams at neutral sites this year. I think, as a whole, the team needs to stop focusing on FT% and finding which guard could be hot, and work on coming down with the ball when on defense. We aren’t a hot-shooting team, so we need possessions. We can’t afford to leave balls on the other end of the court, or let the shot clock reset, because we don’t have the ability to outshoot many teams. Limit the other teams possessions, maximize our own, and results should follow.
Thanks for reading guys! Any feedback is welcome, and if you find errors in the numbers, please let me know. I struggled to find a place with Home/Away stat splits, so all of the data and formulas were entered by hand. I wanted to also explore the efficacy of Tshiebwe and Culver on the court together vs playing separately, and our per minute #s with Osabuohien playing vs not, but I wasn’t able to find any free resources that can provide any bulk info on that. As stated at the beginning, here is the spreadsheet and graphs, and I hope this was at least an interesting read!
submitted by CMLVI to CollegeBasketball [link] [comments]

Game X 2019: Quidditch - Rules, Roles & Registration

Sign up here!

Ahem. Sonorus!
Ladiiiiiies and geeeentlemen, Witches and Wizards, Quidditch lovers of all ages! Welcome to the final phases of Quidditch 2019, where only the best and the bravest can soar! The season is coming down to the wire and have we got a finale for you. After some extremely erratic entries, positively poetic preliminaries and quite quaint quarterfinals, we’ve finally reached the summit of the sport! Allow me to introduce to you the top four teams of the game:
From the heart of Chudley, the greatest underdogs of the 20th century, the team famously keeping their fingers crossed as they hope for the best… the Chudley Cannons!
Diving down from the blue skies of Tutshill, the team holding the record for the fastest win ever, the most popular bandwagon since Merlin popularized pants… the Tutshill Tornados!
From the idyllic plains of River Piddle, I give you the oldest team in the game, the death threat-defying divers, the ONE team to feature Celestina Warbeck in the anthem… the Puddlemere United!
And from the wind-swept fields of Wimbourne, the team with the most buzz, the betting man’s favourite and the beehive-beating bandits… the Wimbourne Wasps!
Give it up for our incredible finalists! And folks, you’ve witnessing history in the making. For the first time ever, the top teams are made up entirely of deputing players! Isn’t that something? There’s no telling what kind of tricks and surprises these talented troopers have in store for us. And how fortunate indeed! As you might know, recently the fans of Quodpot (that boorish, barbaric and blustering baloney from ‘cross the pond) have been demanding that their silly little game be elevated to the level of Quidditch. Ha! Can you believe that, folks?
In any case, I’ve no doubt this year’s fierce final battles between all these mysterious newcomers are just the thing to prove the superiority of our beloved sport. Isn’t that right? Sure it is! You know the rules, you know the teams and you know things are about to get exciting, so without further ado… Let’s get to ditching some quids! Let the games begin!
  • Players in this game will receive access to an alt account that has been added to one of four private subs (/ChudleyCannons, /PuddlemereUnited, /TutshillTornados, and /WimbourneWasps). The game will begin in these four subs.
  • Over the course of the game, the four subs will first merge into two, and finally into one game in /HogwartsWerewolves.
  • Throughout the game, posts will be made in /HogwartsWerewolves with information about who died and their affiliations.
  • There are no secret roles, win conditions or conversion mechanics.

Teams & Roles

Teams

There are two types of people - those who like Quidditch, and those who like Quodpot. That’s it. One or the other. You can’t like both. Or any other sports.
  • People whose favourite sport is Quidditch win when all the Quodpot supporters are dead
  • People whose favourite sport is Quodpot win when they outnumber the Quidditch supporters
Team Quodpot will have a private sub to plan in, and will retain the ability to kill one player per phase in each sub the game is taking place in. The people performing the killing actions will be chosen randomly at the beginning of each phase and announced in the post in their sub.

Roles

Players of either affiliation can have any of these roles. Each role will occur 0-100 times.
Role Description
Manager The Manager is the boss of the team and takes charge of all transfers. The person they choose will be swapped with their transfer partner, if they have one, providing their partner is still alive.
Coach The Coach has a great eye for whether certain players work well together. They will find out if the person they choose to investigate has the same affiliation as the person chosen the previous phase or not.
Mediwizard Quidditch has injuries galore, so it’s necessary to have a trained healer on hand that can deal with the pressure of a high stakes game filled with “accidents”. The Mediwizard is the doctor role, and may not heal the same person twice in a row.
Keeper The Keeper is used to diving in the way to stop attacks on goal, but may also have to dive in front of attacks on other players. If the person they’re watching is about to get attacked, the Keeper will take one for the team, taking down the attacker with them.
Chaser The Chasers need to help rack up the score against the other team. Three times in the game, a Chaser can score an extra point and make their lynch vote count twice.
Beater Good Beaters are crucial to a team’s success. One hit of a well-timed bludger can prevent a Chaser from scoring or a Seeker from catching the snitch! The Beater prevents their target from using an action.
Seeker One moment can make or break a game, and it all comes down to the Seeker. The Seeker has the ability to save the person being lynched, and instead lynch the person with the second highest number of votes. This can only be used once in the whole game.
Fairweather Fan They’re not true fans, they’re just jumping on the bandwagon. It’s difficult to tell who they really support, or if they support anyone at all. Fairweather Fans appear to be the opposite affiliation when investigated.
Fan These loyal supporters turn up come rain or shine. They only have a vote to help with team decisions, but you can bet they’ll be shouting and screaming at players from the stands to try and get them to do what they want.

Transfers

Some players are currently on loan and transferred between teams as part of a sort of “exchange program”. Each of these players is paired with one player from another team. The player they are paired with will have the same affiliation as them.
Pairs will have the potential to swap alt accounts and take over their partner’s game and role if a Manager chooses to swap either one of them. When this happens the passwords of both your accounts will be changed and you will be PMed the new password for your partners alt account. You will then be able to log into that account and continue where they left off, as the role they were previously in the game they were in.
Partners will also be able to freely communicate (in real time) using the confessional form. Both partners will receive access to a spreadsheet containing their shared confessionals that will update as they make them. (These players will still have the ability to make private confessionals by marking them as private on the form, but the default will be for them to be shared).
Once one partner has been killed, the players will be unable to be swapped again and the player who had control of the alt at the time of death will be added to the ghost sub.

Because of this mechanic:

  • All PMs will be sent to the account you sign up with, NOT the alt account you are given.
  • We will not be answering any PMs sent to us from alt accounts. Please instead use the account you signed up with.
  • We must ask that players don’t change the password of the alt account they are using while the game is running.
  • There will be an opportunity at the end of the game for partners to be switched back if they both want to.
  • The spreadsheet we will release at the end will not contain any account passwords, so you won’t have to worry about trying to change your password before the game ends.

Game Information

  • This game will use approximately 24 hours phases. The day actions (lynch) and the night actions (attacks, heals and others) will be combined, so each 24 hour period will contain both the lynch and the actions.
  • The lynch will be before the night actions in the order of operations. Other information about the order of operations will not be revealed until the game is over.
  • The deadline for all form submissions is 8pm UTC (4PM EDT).
  • There will be an option on the action form to not use your action. This will be the default for anyone who does not submit the action form.
  • If there is a tie in the lynch vote, all players with the highest number of votes will die.
  • In the phase posts in the private game subs, the following will be revealed:
    • Who died, and what team they were on
    • The full list of votes
  • All sidebar rules will be enforced during this game.
  • As this game uses alt accounts that you will be given, you may not sign up under your own alt account.
  • Players with more than two inactivity removals in the last year may not sign up for this game.

Additional Rules

  • You may talk about PMs and discussion that took place in a private sub or channel of communication, but posting exact wording, discussing exact wording and posting screenshots are not allowed.
  • If a player fails to vote they will receive an inactivity strike. After three strikes they will be removed from the game.
  • Do not delete comments. If you are editing comments, it should be made clear why you’re editing. If you made an error, use strikethroughs on the information you want removed, but don’t delete it. If you want to add something, put it at the end what you’re adding. Do not share information, then immediately edit your comment to hide what you said from others.
  • Comments in this game should be in English and free of encryption. Please do not try to find workarounds to this.
  • Dead players are not permitted to comment. They may go to /HogwartsGhosts to discuss the game with other dead players and spectators.
  • Werewolves is a game of lying, deceit, manipulation, and broken hearts. There will be disputes. There will be arguments. There will be tough questions. There will be people calling you a liar. There will be people accusing you of things you did not do. Many of these things will rely on circumstantial, or hilariously thin, evidence. As facilitators, we will be enforcing the established rules of the game, but we will not be stepping in on any of these interpersonal disputes, within reason. The best way to tell someone that you don’t like their attitude is with a lynch vote.

Timeline

9/25 - Signups open
10/1 - Signups will end at 8pm UTC (4PM EDT). You will receive your role via PM shortly after. You will have approximately 24 hours to confirm your role. You will be able to log on to your alt accounts and greet each other in your respective game subs.
10/2 - 8pm UTC (4PM EDT) is the deadline for confirmation. After that, roles may be reassigned and Phase 0 will be posted. There will be an event, but no lynch or kill.
10/3 - The first phase will begin shortly after 8pm UTC (4PM EDT)

Sign up here!

Time until signups end

Edits will be logged here:

  • Edit 1: The Coach learns nothing from their first action, but they can use it on phase 0.
submitted by QuidditchReferee to HogwartsWerewolves [link] [comments]

Test Run for CBB Post: West Virginia Road Woes

West Virginia has been pretty up and down this year, based solely on the location of the game. In B12 play, they have a 6-1 record when playing in Morgantown, and a 1-7 record on the road (the lone win being in Stillwater). It’s pretty well documented that WVU is one of the younger teams in the nation, with Jermaine Haley, Chase Harler, and Logan Routt being the only seniors on the team, with Arkansas transfer Gabe Osabuohien and bench player Taz Sherman being the only juniors. The young team has shown glimpses of being great; beating then-#2 (now #23) Ohio State at a neutral court in Ohio, Wichita State in Mexico, and current #22 Texas Tech in Morgantown. Because of the stark contrast between road vs home performance, I looked at some of the stats I could find from Sports-Reference, made up some math, and created some probably repetitive graphs for everyone to criticize! I had a post a few years ago where I looked at WVU’s conference performance prior to I think the B12 tournament, and then previewed the WVU-Gonzaga Sweet 16 game. As before, I will be posting the spreadsheet I used to create graphs at the end, and will refer to stats that are either included on the sheet, or linked in the body.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: In the guard stats, Sports-Reference can sort by game location, but I forgot to leave the Missouri game out. I figured most of the things I’m referencing are averages, and Mizzou landed smack in the middle of conference play, and I really didn’t want to redo my entire thing just to leave them out. Congrats, Tigers, the NCAA is going to sanction you for this.
The first thing I wanted to look at was the guard position. We have 4 main guards that play; Chase Harler, Emmitt Matthews, Deuce McBride, and Jordan McCabe. We have been a very turnover prone team, averaging 14.8 turnovers per game, and an abysmal 15.3 per game in conference play. It’s somewhat contested who our best Guard is; Harler has been inconsistent and plagued with poor passing. Matthews has been hot at times, but cold other times. McBride has been our best point scorer, but is also TO-prone. McCabe has basically lived in the Huggins dog-house, and has produced very little offense. I wanted to see the stats separated by home and away, however, as the stark difference in performance was obviously split by location. Here is a section of the Guard Stats sheet posted as a table for reference:
Player Home Away
Harler
TS% 51.00% 40.64%
eFG% 50.00% 39.39%
Pts/TO 10.25 7.4
Matthews
TS% 50.52% 25.51%
eFG% 46.88% 22.97%
Pts/TO 4.33 7.4
McBride
TS% 53.75% 46.66%
eFG% 50.70% 43.65%
Pts/TO 7.45 6.09
McCabe
TS% 50.19% 37.52%
eFG% 50.00% 37.50%
Pts/TO 3.20 1.57
As we can see, Harler looks far and away the nest both at home and on the road, and plays the 2nd most minutes on average at 18.4 and 19.5 home/away. He doesn’t turn the ball over much, and scores when he shoots seemingly well, but he hasn’t had bulk production, with 41 pts and 37 pts H/A. McBride has been our main guard, averaging 22.5 and 22.25 minutes H/A with 82 and 67 pts respectively. McBride seems to be the best of both worlds, with point production and fewer TOs than other options.
The most puzzling aspect of this seems to be Emmitt Matthews shooting splits; he shoots well at home, but horribly on the road. His turnover-prone passing leads to him seeing the 2nd least amount of court time. McCabe has good numbers at home, and decent shooting away, but has some pretty abysmal Pts/TO. He suffers from being a highly-touted Huggins prospect, as he will get pulled and sit for the remainder of a game if the mistake was deemed bad enough by Huggs as well. Another thing I noticed was the FT shooting disparities of home v away for Matthews. At home, Matthews is 10 / 15, but on the road he is 3 / 5. This leads me to believe that Matthews is not playing the same on the road as he is at home. I’m unsure of how FGs are recorded with a foul committed, but Matthews has 16 2pFGA at home vs 25 on the road. Is Matthews driving the basket the same way on the road? I am leaning towards no. While these #s are damn near 1 shot a game difference, Matthews has a pretty disparate play-time, anywhere from 29 minutes to 11 minutes (there is a 10 minute game, but I think he was injured during a play against KSU).
As much as it pains me to say, I think Harler needs to see more time at the expense of McCabe. His shooting numbers are 2nd best on the team, he has not been in foul trouble throughout the entirety of conference play (3 PF at most in any given game), and he is relatively careful with the ball. There just is no good reason to continue giving McCabe the minutes he is getting at this time.
Now, this write-up isn’t just to point out guard play, but the team as a whole. Looking at the Offensive #s produced H/A, we see that shooting in general is worse on the road. Hardly the revelation of the century, but it is worth at least a mention. However, the larger culprit is the DRebs. For a team that prides itself on getting the ball, we are being outmuscled on the road. At this point in the season, we’ve played near every team in the conference twice. The OReb numbers are similar, but the DReb numbers are lacking. In our home games, we’ve dipped below 23 DReb one time; a home loss to KU. On the road, we’ve reached 23 DReb twice time; a road loss with 23 to KU, and our lonesome road win against OKSt with 30. We are being outmuscled on the road on the defensive end, despite defense and rebounding being both strong aspects of our team. We’ve been outrebounded 1 time; TTU pulled down 16 OReb to our 12 @ home. Outside of that, we’ve beaten teams outright every time except for KU tying us on DReb. On the road, the numbers are much different on the DReb side. We aren’t fighting for position, or coming down the rebounds we seemingly do come down with at the Coliseum.
Here are the defensive allowed #s, but I’m pretty sure it’s somewhat redundant and not much extra info. It is worth saying that the shooting% in general is pretty high, and I imagine that is because of our defensive mindset. We love to pursue the perimeter shot and leave guys open elsewhere on the court, and that leads to easy baskets and open 3s. I imagine this is also part of the reason we are losing so badly on DRebs is guys are overcommitting and we are losing the position battle underneath the basket.
Now, the one upside to this is that WVU looks to be a pretty decent bet to make the tourney, and we haven’t had these issues at neutral sites. The quality of opponents obviously isn’t the same, but we’ve beaten good teams at neutral sites this year. I think, as a whole, the team needs to stop focusing on FT% and finding which guard could be hot, and work on coming down with the ball when on defense. We aren’t a hot-shooting team, so we need possessions. We can’t afford to leave balls on the other end of the court, or let the shot clock reset, because we don’t have the ability to outshoot many teams. Limit the other teams possessions, maximize our own, and results should follow.
Thanks for reading guys! Any feedback is welcome, and if you find errors in the numbers, please let me know. I struggled to find a place with Home/Away stat splits, so all of the data and formulas were entered by hand. I wanted to also explore the efficacy of Tshiebwe and Culver on the court together vs playing separately, and our per minute #s with Osabuohien playing vs not, but I wasn’t able to find any free resources that can provide any bulk info on that. As stated at the beginning, here is the spreadsheet and graphs, and I hope this was at least an interesting read!
submitted by CMLVI to mountaineers [link] [comments]

Breadispain's NHL DFS Primer 2019-20

The first (preseason) DFS content is available tomorrow on Draftkings! It's time to get back into the swing of things.
Introduction
Many people commented or PMed me last season saying that my posts helped them win more money, more frequently. I know I personally missed out on some big paydays by ignoring my own advice. (Sigh.) I’ve been playing DFS hockey since 2014 and have become gradually more invested in it over the past few seasons. I started playing $1 single entry tournaments and I’ve been hooked since my first entry placed 47/3448. You’ll generally find me in single entry tournaments on Draftkings and whichever site has the better tournament payout on the larger Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday slates.
I have the same username on Draftkings, Fanduel and Rotogrinders if you’re looking for me elsewhere.
Disclaimer
I would recommend that you only play DFS as a form of entertainment. Hockey is a volatile sport where anything can happen any given night: the underdog could win, your starting goaltender could be injured, etc. While under no circumstances should you hold me liable should you lose, please take me into consideration if you do happen to come upon a big payday as a result of my advice ;)
I’d advise restraint during the preseason and month of October while lines and systems are settling and the sample size is small. The whole point of using data to build your lineups is to reduce randomness, so your bankroll should be saved for when the league is more predictable. However, if you’re a degenerate like me, you likely have enough data about your personal habits to know that is unlikely.
Slates
The NHL schedule dictates larger slates on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, with fewer games on days between. Larger slates tend to come with higher prize pools funded by more entries. Since a larger slate means more players are on the ice, that generally decreases specific player ownership. Though that increases your chance of your players having lower ownership if they go off, it also makes it more difficult to pick players that score more than the rest of the field, since there’s a higher probability more goals are scored. (And that’s what makes it fun!)
While there are also all day, afternoon, evening and late night slates, as well as Showdown and whatever else have been introduced lately, the payout for these contests tends to be less overall for the same entry fees, while the difficulty of winning them is comparable, so I tend to avoid them with few exceptions.
Contest Type
Whether you’re playing cash games (50/50, multipliers, head-to-head), satellites, or GPP (Guaranteed Prize Pool) tournaments will greatly affect your strategy. In GPP’s you’re looking for highest upside to get the most overall points possible to win the tournament. In cash, you’re looking for the highest floor to ensure you’re above the fold. In general, play cash games for security and GPP’s for the thrill.
I’m sure there are a lot of pros that play cash games regularly because you can easily double your wager any given night, which at minimum helps pad your bankroll to cover any GPP losses. I personally don’t like the upside when weighing risk/reward and therefore prefer to play GPP’s almost exclusively. However, cash strategies can also translate to smaller tournaments because you don’t need as much variance to set yourself apart from other lineups.
Single-Entry vs Multi-Entry
Daily fantasy hockey is always pitching itself as a game of skill while trying to distance itself from gambling for legal reasons. I contend that single entry tournaments are the truest test of skill here because each entry holds the same weight. These are my preferred contests by far, though there are rarely more than two any given night with a payout worth the ticket price.
While you technically have a better chance of placing first by maxing your entries in GPP’s every night, it’s impractical for most players, especially the novice. You can see in the Draftkings Results Database that even seasoned veterans rarely employ this strategy as well. For what it’s worth, some of my biggest paydays have also been ones where I made the fewest amount of entries. Your mileage may vary.
Rake
Rake is simply the house cut taken by whichever site you’re gambling on. Along with entry fees it has increased in recent years and stabilized around 9-13% depending on the contest. If all things are considered equal, target contests with a lower rake, as more prizes are being paid out to the contestants. That also means GPP’s and satellites that are not filling up before the deadline can offer you a slight advantage.
Bankroll Management
You should care about how much money you’re gambling because no one else is going to. Bankroll management doesn’t factor much into my decision making simply due to the scale I operate at, so I’ll only offer this advice: winnings are not winnings until you withdraw them, and only if you haven’t deposited more than that originally. It boggles my mind when people praise themselves for winning a grand after dumping two the month before. Set an amount you’re comfortable losing and don’t deposit more than that when it’s gone. There are free bankroll trackers available online if you want an overview of how you’re doing, such as Daily Fantasy Nerd, as well as restrictions on each site if needed.
Point Systems
This whole post was based around the 2018-19 point system for both Fanduel and Draftkings. However, it was Recently Announced that adjustments would be made to the Draftkings point system this coming season. Here’s what you need to know:
Prior to this year, there used to be relative parity between the Fanduel and Draftkings scoring systems. Aside a few discrepancies, like Fanduel awarding minor powerplay point bonuses, Draftkings accounting for goaltender points and hat trick bonuses, and a slight variation between block and shot values, Fanduel scores were basically 4x Draftking ones and the only significant differences were salary discrepancies and lineup construction.
No longer. Not only have the Draftkings points been bumped up overall but their relative values have changed. A goaltender win is now worth less relative to a goal. While it used to take 15 saves to make up a goal, it will now take about 12. There will also be two points awarded for overtime losses.
There are other minor changes to the basic scoring system, like assists and shots on goal are worth slightly less relative to a goal, but the real change will be in the new bonus system. Here you will see an additional three points awarded for hat tricks, 35+ saves, 5+ shots, 3+ blocks and 3+ point games. That 3 point modifier also stacks with the hat trick bonus, which is, frankly, ridiculous. This will significantly change the worth of playmakers, with two assists (10 points) now being worth less than a player with five shots on goal (10.5 points) without hitting twine.
Draftkings claims this makes the game “more exciting” but right now it just seems like it’ll be more random. I fail to see how anyone that regularly plays DFS with any volume benefits from this change, outside of possibly drawing in more inexperienced entries and increasing the overall player and prize pool. The NHL players gaining these bonuses are, for the most part, already the top performers in those categories. Additional incentives are hardly necessary to have Burns or Ovechkin any given night. For others, certain punt plays could see a significant boost, though it makes little sense to me why two blocked shots would be worth 2.6 points but a third bumps that up to 6.9.
Regardless, I still see linestacking being advantageous with these changes.
Linestacking
Outside of choosing a winning goaltender, using players on the same line is the most basic DFS advice you can give a beginner. Since there are so few goals scored in a hockey game and most of those goals correlate with an assist, you typically want to pick players with good linemates. The odds of stacking two corresponding lines and getting multi-point games that win you money is far greater than selecting six players who have standout individual performances on any given night.
Depending on whether you play on Fanduel or Draftkings will determine what kind of strategies are available to you, as there are tighter salary constraints on Draftkings but looser restrictions. For example, on Fanduel you’re capped at 4 players from each team. On Draftkings, you only need 3 different teams represented, so you can technically play the entire top six from one team instead. Despite that, you cannot do the 4-4-1 stack available on Fanduel, where you pick two lines with their corresponding defensemen and a goaltender. Instead, you have to opt for a 4-3-1 stack, either using the utility position for a punt play (typically not ideal) or alternating one of the defensemen from a different team (preferable).
I don’t like to break up line stacks because I’ve been playing long enough to see it come back to haunt me, but there’s always an argument for dropping an underperforming third wheel or due to salary constraints.
Powerplay Correlation
Roughly 20% of NHL goals are scored with the man advantage. Though not strictly necessary, players who have top powerplay minutes are more likely to score goals. If an entire line has full powerplay correlation, even better. There are few teams worth targeting for a powerplay stack where the players are not also linemates. However, last season the Lightning, Panthers, Sharks, Pens, Flames, Leafs and Caps all had great powerplay success with players combined from two or more lines. This can make a decent contrarian play against a weak penalty kill team or simply to deviate from the standard chalk on a smaller slate.
Percentage of Ownership
Generally speaking, whichever team(s) has the highest Vegas odds to win, and especially a high oveunder, will also be the favored teams, or chalk, for DFS. Since only 20% of GPP entries will profit and the chalk lines are likely to garner 20%+ ownership, if that line goes off it could break the slate (you’ll need that line to win).
Just because a team is a favorite to win does not mean they’re your safest option. Primarily because there are no safe options, it’s also crucial to maximize your success by differentiating your lineups from others. Use Vegas odds and “expert” predictions as a guideline for what you think other people will be targeting, and keep this in mind when building your own lineups. Looking for the lines that could produce but be underlooked (and therefore under-owned) is necessary for a big payday.
The larger the slate, the more likely you can profit from chalk. Likewise, the smaller the slate, the higher upside for contrarian options. On a 12 game slate there are likely to be several favorites, decreasing the overall ownership percentage of any given line. On a three or four game slate, more people are likely to gravitate to one or two lines. Whether you can actually afford to stack these lines together is another matter entirely. Sometimes the chalk lines are so prohibitively expensive that you have to make great sacrifices elsewhere in your lineup.
Salary Constraints
I don’t fully understand how either Fanduel and Draftkings come up with their player salaries because they often feel arbitrary. Kase was priced at floor on Fanduel for weeks, despite putting up solid production on the first line for the Ducks. There were thousands of dollars difference in Chabot’s salary when he was on a tear as well. Some players, like Shattenkirk, appeared to have inflated salaries solely due to name recognition. Occasionally there are straight up errors, like Keith Yandle was priced at floor by mistake for almost a week on Draftkings last January. Suffice to say that it’s worth analyzing the value of each player on a line when stacking, as well as exploring individual salary trends, as players are often propped up by things that don’t translate to DFS production.
It’s rare that you’ll pick two lines that fit so comfortably you can afford top defensemen and a goaltender as well. If you have the salary left over to flesh out your lineup with Burns, Letang and Vasilevskiy, it’s hard to make an argument not to. More likely you’re going to be looking for pivots, a line that has a value player that brings down the total cost, or ultimately sacrificing somewhere in your lineup.
A solid pivot for me was likely an outlier getting top powerplay time (ex. Pirri), an individual performer on a depth line (Ex. Donato; Perreault), an unrecognized rookie (ex. Svechnikov, Chabot), someone stepping in for an injury in a lineup, or a cheap defenseman with offensive upside (ex. Ekholm).
It’s also not uncommon for a star to have less talented linemates. Sometimes that artificially inflates the cost of those linemates, but sometimes it makes the line a decent budget option. You’ll likely find these players alongside McDavid, Matthews, Crosby or Stamkos, for example, when their lines are not loaded with their corresponding Kucherovs or Draisaitls.
Some lines are so prohibitively expensive they’re virtually unstackable at all, though these lines are also typically matchup proof. Because of the sacrifice required, these lines are often worth targeting on a larger slate or against tougher opposition where they’ll fetch lower ownership but still have the potential for a hat trick or more. Refer to COL1, BOS1, TBL2, etc.
Contrarian Play
Contrarian here simply means rejecting the consensus favorite, but it’s often confused with simply picking a line from a bad team to go against the grain. Note there’s rarely a good argument to pick a contrarian goaltender, outside of high upside for their salary. Keep in mind that Vegas odds, really even the best teams in the NHL, are roughly 60-65% likely to accurate project as a winner, and that winning alone is not always enough to make a goaltender valuable because they might not see a lot of shots.
So when should you play contrarian? One of my favorite contrarian options on Fanduel specifically is when a line’s players have the “wrong” position. This happens when a player was previously playing out of position, and Fanduel is notorious for being slow to respond to these changes. Since it’s more difficult to stack a CCW or WWW line, these picks are naturally contrarian because they’re harder to fit into a lineup.
Another option might be targeting secondary scoring on depth lines. Not only is this an option for affordability that’s easier to stack, but it’s a decent pivot off the chalk for a team that’s a favorite to win. It’s worth noting that a team playing on home ice has the advantage of last change and therefore can choose their deployment. If you’re targeting against a team with a solid shutdown line on home ice, a secondary scoring line might end up getting better deployment and production. Likewise, if you know a line will be forced to play a shutdown role, you might want to consider alternatives. This is called line matching and may differ on a nightly basis.
One option that’s often overlooked is a game stack. That is, picking one line from either teams in one game. When two teams are porous defensively or have a historic rivalry, chances are if a goal is scored early in the first period the ice could rapidly open up and the game will become a shooting gallery.
Finally, though this option is restricted only to Draftkings, you can stack two lines from the same team with each other. This could be the entire top six or a full five man powerplay stack. I would reserve this option only for high powered offenses against the weakest of opposition though.
Defensemen
I often consider defensemen an extension of linestacking, but in reality that’s not always feasible. Though there are technically points awarded for blocked shots, even the top shot blockers aren’t very DFS relevant on shot blocking alone, unless they are positioned against a high shot volume team and come at a reasonable price tag. It is worth considering a high floor from reliable shooters and/or blockers when looking for value if you’re stacking two expensive lines, especially in cash games. While it’s not uncommon to see rosters where people have two depth defenders squeezed into their lineup due to salary constraints, know that you’ll typically need at least another goal from your forwards to compensate for the backend unless they happen to get a lucky bounce.
There are only around forty defensemen capable of regularly generating at a half point per game every season. With so few of these players available any given night, their salaries are typically higher than a forward with a similar point pace. The most prolific point producers are often unattainable for this reason. If an inexpensive defenseman finds his way onto the first powerplay unit, you can guarantee he will see high ownership. It’s almost always recommended to upgrade your defensemen if your salary allows.
Goaltenders
More important than any other statistic is whether or not your goalie is starting, so make sure to confirm that before puck drop. Daily Faceoff is the defacto place to verify the starting goaltender for each team. It’s not infallible, but it’s the best resource available without refreshing Twitter constantly for updates.
While it’s rare this will haunt you, it’s important to note that the win is only attributed to the goalie that’s on the ice when the deciding goal is scored, and that’s not necessarily who’s in the net at the end of the game. This is especially pertinent if you’re considering playing preseason games, where there’s often split duty between two prospects.
Even the worst goaltender is going to take up a sizeable chunk of your salary cap. However, unless they’re pulled from the game, even a losing goalie at least generally has some positive impact on your overall score. On the flipside, a winning goaltender can easily be your MVP every night. That’s a lot of pressure on picking the right player in this position, and therefore it’s often the hardest.
Without consideration for quality of opponent, even the best goaltender on the first seeded team has generally won less than 70% of their games that season. Picking a winning team is already a gamble, let alone the challenge of picking a winner that also faces a lot of shots without giving up goals. Because of this, I don’t really have a strong inclination to any particular strategy here. Some nights I’ll single out a small handful of goalies I think will perform well and either correlate them with my stacks or disperse them based on their salaries. If I’m only targeting a few lines that night, maybe I’ll run the same stacks with several goaltenders and hope to see them all dispersed in the top fifty. Other times I’ll ride the same goaltender for every lineup in a boom or bust scenario. In any case, I would seriously caution against being contrarian here without knowing there’s high upside (the goaltender is cheapest on the slate and at least has a chance of winning, say).
Recent/Historical Performance
I’m not going to lie, I use DailyFantasyNerd to compare shooting and scoring trends amongst players, and I’m always dialled in to the hot hands as much as anyone. However, I feel like people might put too much weight on recent performance and too little on historical data and sustainability.
There’s no question that sometimes players just go on hot or cold streaks, and betting on a player who’s in a slump to miraculously break it that night is equal parts realistic and gambler’s fallacy, as much as banking on the hot hand continuing his run would be. If you’re willing to do further digging, it’s worth taking into account whether a player is seeing a change in deployment or ice time. Consider whether they’re shooting more or less and what percentage of those shots are converting. Also note the quality of competition in the previous games. If you’re not doing any additional research whatsoever, just know these stats are usually shown as an average over the last five games and can be heavily skewed by one good or bad game, or even an injury.
If I only have time for minimal research any given night, without fail I am checking ShrpSports and CBC Sports for the team matchup history. Providing other factors align, I will often trust historical data and narrative games over a lot of other metrics. Now, I’m often criticised for putting weight on either of these things whatsoever, but I’ll still argue that it’s foolish to ignore it.
Obviously rosters change from season to season, and sometimes very dramatically. You should definitely take offseason changes into account. However, there are some teams or specific players that consistently (and often unexpectedly) have another team’s number, and rivalries are sure to bring out the best of both teams despite what fancy stats and standings indicate. Because of this, I tend to look at the outcome of the previous two season’s play and include any games played this season, with a greater weight put on teams that matchup more frequently. Especially if there is a team that shouldn’t be victorious that’s been on a relatively consistent win streak versus their opponent, I’m making a note of the upside from their upset potential, both to avoid picking the opposing goaltender and to consider linestacks that might otherwise be overlooked. I generally ignore playoff performances though because the stakes are higher and roles tend to be different.
It also might seem silly to place any weight on things like personal milestones, birthdays or playing against your former team, but hockey players are human, and more often than not people step up to prove something to themselves or others, or help their teammates achieve personal goals.
Advanced Stats
I’ll consider advanced stats for our purposes as anything that isn’t already tracked for DFS points that might actually affect them. So, standard stats would be shots, goals, assists and blocks, and advanced stats would be metrics that affect that. Not all good hockey players are fantasy relevant, and therefore many advanced stats aren’t a good predictor of DFS production. I will say that advanced stats strongly suggested that Tampa Bay were not nearly as good as their record suggested headed into the playoffs. Either way, it’s worth understanding these terms as they’re becoming part of the narrative, and while player and puck tracking will soon be the norm, you can garner a slight edge over the competition with a bit of manual work if you’re so inclined. In any case, none of these stats should be considered in a vacuum, and hockey isn’t a science in that you’ll accurately predict an outcome via advanced stats alone, so don’t go crazy looking for a pattern that probably isn’t there.
You can find all these stats (and much more) listed below at Corsica Hockey and Natural Stat Trick.
Shooting Percentage
Shooting percentage is predictive of whether on a player’s ice performance is sustainable. It’s most useful as a comparison to league and individual averages weighed against current performance to determine whether it’s an outlier. Simply, whether a player is slumping or over-performing.
Scoring Chances
These are shots taken where goals are likely to be scored, weighed based on where on the ice they’re taken from. It’s fallible, but it’s one of the strongest predictors currently available. If a player has a high shooting percentage but is also taking high danger shots, it stands to reason why they’re converting into goals. It’s worth noting when a line is generating high danger scoring opportunities without producing, as they’ll likely fly under the radar in the meantime.
Expected Goals FoAgainst (xGF/xGA)
Expected goals is a measurement of unblocked shots that register on net in the offensive zone. xGF/xGA doesn’t have a strong correlation with actual goals scored, which seems easily explained because it doesn’t take into account individual talent or scoring probability. While there’s a chance any puck thrown toward the net could lead to a goal, without taking into account the shot quality or where it’s generated from, I don’t place much weight on this personally.
Expected Save Percentage (xSv%)
This stat takes into account shot quality (though not shooter quality) and quantity and ranks the goaltender against the league average performance. Again, this isn’t necessarily a fair indicator of how well the goaltender performed. It is worth considering for how well the team’s defense has played in front of him though, so it can be used in conjunction with other stats when picking a goalie for the win and save upside.
Corsi and Fenwick
Corsi is likely the most recognizable name in advanced stats. This was devised to account for goaltender workload and adjusts for every time they have to be in position to make a save, so it takes into account shot attempts that are blocked or go wide of the net. It’s sister stat, Fenwick, is identical, aside excluding blocked shots. >50% Corsi/Fenwick indicates more shots on net than against. Neither take into account shot quality. Therefore, rather than using positive metrics to determine whether a team will score, I consider this a determining factor for diminishing the opposition from scoring, as they’ll possess the puck less often. This is especially worth considering for linematching.
Note that Corsi/Fenwick will be influenced by zone starts. A player that gets more faceoffs in the offensive zone is more likely to put pucks on net than they are to have shots against theirs, and vice versa. A player that has negative percentage and >50% offensive zone starts represents poor ice performance.
PDO/SPSV%
This statistic is nothing more than shooting percentage added to the save percentage. Since this will always total 100% league-wide, variance higher than 100 supposedly indicates luck, or that a team is not as good as they seem, and anything lower indicates they may be better than they appear. Though this stat supposedly measures luck it can also indicate a significant skill gap (Kucherov and Matthews are dominant in this category). A line generating many high danger scoring chances without conversion should have a low PDO that regresses to the mean.
There are more advanced stats available than these, as well as derivatives of each, though I think this is enough of an overview for daily fantasy purposes. If there’s something you’ve found to be useful though, feel free to drop it in the comments.
Lineup Construction
Now that you have narrowed down your chosen lines based on which teams you want to target and have a handful of goaltenders and defensemen/utility players selected, you’re ready to construct your lineups.
This will likely be a very individual process based on system comfortability and how many entries you’re submitting. The default will be simply to load the corresponding app or website and do everything entirely on your device or browser, if not supplementing with pen and paper. Perfectly acceptable. However, this would be both cumbersome and time consuming for MME, so there’s also a bulk upload option available with .csv spreadsheets. This might be the approach you take if you’re using an optimizer too.
Optimizers
Free optimizers are basically designed to squeeze out every dollar per average point production or projection, which is very much not what I prefer to build my lineups on. Though there are better options if you’re willing to shell out some money, I don’t play enough volume to warrant a subscription and prefer a more hands-on approach anyway. I would highly recommend checking out Linestar though. I am not affiliated with them in any way, but they seem under-recognized in the market and are easily the best optimizer available for hockey in my opinion, utilizing a lot of the criteria I’ve mentioned here, including historical data, stacking and advanced stats, etc. which many other optimizers omit. There’s also an option for a brief trial based on ad views.
Line Stacker
I personally use a custom line stacker that I hobbled together with spreadsheets and the downloadable .csv files from Draftkings and Fanduel. You can access it here along with the basic instructions for how it works. Someone always comes along and messes it up somehow, so I would recommend downloading it to your desktop and using Excel to play around with it.
Late Night Swaps
Rosters lock when the first game of the night is slated to begin. If there are games on your slate starting later than that, keep in mind that changes can and do happen. Check for last minute line changes or which goaltender takes the ice even if things seemed certain at the morning skate. The worst thing that can happen is watching your first place entry plummet because it was a late reveal that someone has the flu and isn’t on the bench.
Additional Resources
Breadispain’s FREE Fanduel and Draftkings Line Stacker v1.1: My own hobbled together line-stacking tool for up to 24 lines. I don't know of a similar tool available right now and I find it handier than an optimizer. There’s also a rudimentary salary comparison tool between Draftkings and Fanduel implemented if that interests you.
ShrpSports: See how well teams have performed against each other historically.
CBC Sports: maybe it’s because I’m Canadian, but I think the CBC does the best overview of the slate with easy access to the latest game data.
Daily Faceoff: Your best source for lineups, injury news and starting goaltender information.
Daily Fantasy Nerd: I use this daily for an overview of who’s hot/cold in the last five games for shots on goal, ice time and points, though it’s worth making a deeper dive to see whether those points came from a single outlier game.
Corsica Hockey and Natural Stat Trick: I use both of these sites for advanced stats, and occasionally the latter for line-matching data and post-game analysis.
Linestar: Linestar comes closest to developing a DFS tool that actually correlates with how I build my lineups. They offer everything from analysis on value plays, recent performance in varying metrics, historical data vs opponent, change in salary, salary disparity between platforms, and much more.
Results DB: see the best and optimal lineups from previous nights and who came out ahead.
Awesemo, Rotogrinders and DFS Army: Since these are the more popular sites, I tend to review their postings and livestreams when time permits on the big slates for anything I might’ve overlooked and to get a better idea of where other people might be targeting. I personally place more weight on boggslite and Homercles, for whatever that’s worth to you.
Summary
It’s my opinion that Vegas odds and expert predictions should be used as a guide for chalk more than what you should target. It won’t take research to determine that good players with ideal linemates against weak opponents are more likely to score. Don’t ignore narrative games and historical performances. Advanced stats can be both helpful and distracting. Ideally you’ll always stack two or more players who are correlated on the powerplay with one or both of your defensemen, on teams with high GF/G and/or PP%, against teams with low CF% and/or a goaltender with high GAA, ideally with a low PK%. Consider whether these players have been under or overperforming and have any chemistry together. Players who shoot more often increase their point floor and probability to score. It’s advantageous to be on home ice for linematching but it’s rarely a dealbreaker. Round this out with a goaltender with a high expected SA/G and low GAA that fits within your salary constraints. Alternatively, build from the goaltender out or just hamfist whomever works.
And that’s always easier said than done.
Best of luck.
submitted by breadispain to dfsports [link] [comments]

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