BUCK Tails II - The Final Challenge

A young man stands on a Manchester street. He is outside the convention venue, the lamplight lighting the way as well as the bright glow of the Hall's many, many windows like a lamp made by a mad mathematician. It was all angles and boxes arranged and crushed in many strange and odd angles, these lantern-like windows as bright as can be in the night air. There is someone he's heard of as being called 'Sketchy' bouncing on the spot with a guitar, singing of loyalty or generosity. It not too cold or too warm and so the others have spilled from the front doors, spreading out and slowly trickling back to their beds after one long, lasting goodbye.

But not without spreading a little more cheer first.

They were talking, a group hug could break out at any moment. These friendly scums were all about swamping each one of the people involved. You could be hugged or bro-hoofed at any moment.

And this was it. This was that last moment to be here. This place that was so busy, lively and welcoming and comfortable and happy and bright. He'd grown a new determination, made new friends and come across people he'd talked to but never seen. This was a...the time for cliche is now. This was a magic place and it always should be. Sentimentality isn't a crime, after all.

He fights a little puffiness around his eyes. He's tall, a little chubby around the middle in his Pac-Man T-shirt and jacket. One hand is holding the handle of the pokadot suitcase containing the reason he was expected here. The other was anticipating sudden moisture around his eyes. His hair was long, greasy from the excersions of the day and curling at the ends, curiously. He looks up and out over everyone, slowly filtering away.

He turns but finds he can't take a step away yet. There's a dull twang. A mermur that rumbles through his chest as the vaguest possible sentation within his chest. He can feel the pendulm to his clockworks fall with every thought about taking another step. The elation wouldn't be here for a year. The excitement, the people, that chance to let loose until he can't carry on any more.

He sighs, smiling and turns, joining in with the small group singing with the man and the guitar.

~|~​

Hi,

I really feel like a little of my heart is here now. Cheesy? Fine, but I'm settling from the massive high I got from today. A little cheesy is expected.

The Tournament went well. Firstly, it was packed! Around 60 possible applicants turned up to come test their metal. As we started moving people into the room, I found staff members going ape about this. Bridgewater Hall wasn't happy with letting too many people into one room and were trying to make sure we would stick to the maximum limit. Why was there a maximum limit? I don't know. Maybe it was to stop people combusting. Either way, it meant we had to change tact from the relaxing day of watching Smash Brother's I was expecting.

So, we took applicants then ran through the tournament as quickly as possible with as few mistakes as possible. As long as people were happy, I was happy. The competition was fierce but it was more as fierce as I thought it would have been because a guy called Trottingsky decided to borrow my Mega Drive (Genesis) and host his own little tourney with it. Which was pretty awesome. I thought he had better prises than the three Steam games I had to offer but still, a little more prep next year with him and we'll have something really special, I am sure.

The quality of fights was good. I was surprised I could comentate as well as I could, pulling out various possible tactics and things. I was getting into it as I tried to keep things up at a steady pace. I ended up giving prizes to someone called Jamie I think and the guy that runs the Ask Pinkimina Tumblr blog. I even got thrashed at Brawl, despite putting up a decent fight. Clearly, I had found a powerful team of players. Or, more likely, my lack of practice is staggering.

I'm not looking forward to dragging that suitcase full of game's consoles around tomorrow, let me tell ya!

Everything else was pretty neat. The panels were interesting and the Artist's panel was one joke after another. I laughed hard at that one. Also, those MLP writing staff can get pretty crafty when they don't have much of an answer.

The closing ceremony was great fun. A final send off I'll never forget. It seemed strangely evangelical towards the end as I got swept up in all the commotion and noise and excitement. I mean, stacking ponies a few chairs away from me was getting some intense attention. Singing 'Winter Wrap Up' was something I'd put as much energy as I could into. Trying to belt it out as best as I can. It was great to go with the crowd at that point. You were part of the fun and silliness, it was happening right in front of you! It's you and over a thousand people that are tuned to the same station as you. I wouldn't trade that moment.

Man, I've got some work to do for next year...I settle in places quickly and start to find my barings rather quickly. It's going to make my bedroom a stangely forign place to be. Especially when I'm the only one in it.

I'll get right on a compalation of my experiences here when I can, Everypony. I hope you've enjoyed reading these.

~|~​

He turns and starts walking, the murmur dying slowly as he reassures himself that he'd come back when he can. In silence, he dreams of the comming months and the blog post he was dying to write. He had to share this. He'd never do it justice but you either write it or let it fester. Broadcasting joy trumps anything.