Signs were posted for months in bright letters - pinks and purples and blues - professionally crafted, of course. Ivan had requisitioned his mother’s print media guy to have them made and so they shone in lamination, faint glow-in-the-dark embossing that had the letters jump out at you as you walked by. The importance of discrete locations was paramount, of course - the cafeteria bulletin board was too cluttered, but placing them on walls that were directly across from major entrances and a few in the mandatory 9th grade gym class would send a more powerful message. The trick to messaging, he had learned at his father’s knee, was a well-done message at responsible intervals. Do not flood the audience.
The signs shouted loud and proud:
SOTF-TV TRIVIA NIGHT
3:30 PM IN CAFETERIA
CASH PRIZE TO WINNER
I'm a big fan of Yugi - I'm just emotionally inarticulate
SOTF-TV Trivia night - Open to all.
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The Honeless Beard
- Posts: 892
- Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:47 am
- Location: Got it? Good, now get inside.
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 250
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: Hanging Onto A Buoy For Dear Life
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
- Contact:
It began, as role-playing games tend to, in a tavern.
[Mariko Whitney slowly peeked her head across the threshold, looked left,
and then, with a crook of her head, right.]
"Close enough," she said with a shrug, taking her tentative first steps into the cafeteria.
When nobody showed up and her weekly Changeling: The Dreaming session cancelled itself (as these days it often did) Mariko took to walking the barren halls of Mangrove Garden High, alone. Not for lack of anything to do. Dropping in to watch someone else's campaign or scrounging up some newbies for a one-shot would be easy enough for her to manage. The club president probably wanted help with some paperwork or something, or an errand. A snack run across the street? She'd done it before—and hey, if maybe she didn't fuck with the club today, then she could always just walk home.
Today called for quietude because today called for inspiration. It had been three months since Mariko started her initial planning for an SOTF-TV homebrew system, but only a few days of actual work had been done. The deeper Mariko dug in search of inspiration for mechanics and random tables and flavor text, the more impossible she recognized her task was. Over sixty seasons, each lasting, in full, at least a full twenty four hour day, plus supplemental gaming material and promotional stuff to pour over—Mariko, without true foreknowledge of the task at hand, had thrown all of the proverbial irons into the fire at once.
All of them. And how they burned! Smoldered, et cetera; doing as irons did, they sat still in the flame while Mariko watched high school melt away. Walking these halls (and, when nobody was looking, dancing down them) helped her conceptualize the scale of the arena maps she'd drawn up fairly well. If nothing else, it put her in the right mindset. Home had her notes, but here? There were many easily imaginable objects in a school hallway—lots of doors, and lockers, and posters and things that could be extrapolated out and duplicated across the walls with a bit of internal visual calculus and a good deal of imagination.
If a door is this wide, then...
The sightlines from this corner would be...
Wait, what's that poster say? Trivia?
And now, the cafeteria. She is already here.
Just as the hallways around the tabletop club room stood sentinel, vividly and faithfully reconstructed in her memory (the map permanently drawn onto the back of Mariko's eyelids), the cafeteria was alien and mysterious by a similar measure, a place of moderate danger and social unfamiliarity. Even in off-hours Mariko generally kept herself from getting too close, reflexively path-finding away to some field or outside bench to eat on—but the poster called. The luck was hers. If the trivia was good, maybe it'd give Mariko the inspiration to finally move some of those irons around. If it was bad, then at least she'd learn what people thought of when they thought about SOTF-TV.
Not that she needed to put any more fingers on the pulse. Eyes on the prize; she really just was interested in the loot. Dosh. Moo-lah was one of her favorite words, but today wealth came in many forms.
"Helloooooooo?" Mariko called into the lunchroom dust, "I heard there was trivia today?
"...Trivia with cash involved?"
[Mariko Whitney slowly peeked her head across the threshold, looked left,
and then, with a crook of her head, right.]
"Close enough," she said with a shrug, taking her tentative first steps into the cafeteria.
When nobody showed up and her weekly Changeling: The Dreaming session cancelled itself (as these days it often did) Mariko took to walking the barren halls of Mangrove Garden High, alone. Not for lack of anything to do. Dropping in to watch someone else's campaign or scrounging up some newbies for a one-shot would be easy enough for her to manage. The club president probably wanted help with some paperwork or something, or an errand. A snack run across the street? She'd done it before—and hey, if maybe she didn't fuck with the club today, then she could always just walk home.
Today called for quietude because today called for inspiration. It had been three months since Mariko started her initial planning for an SOTF-TV homebrew system, but only a few days of actual work had been done. The deeper Mariko dug in search of inspiration for mechanics and random tables and flavor text, the more impossible she recognized her task was. Over sixty seasons, each lasting, in full, at least a full twenty four hour day, plus supplemental gaming material and promotional stuff to pour over—Mariko, without true foreknowledge of the task at hand, had thrown all of the proverbial irons into the fire at once.
All of them. And how they burned! Smoldered, et cetera; doing as irons did, they sat still in the flame while Mariko watched high school melt away. Walking these halls (and, when nobody was looking, dancing down them) helped her conceptualize the scale of the arena maps she'd drawn up fairly well. If nothing else, it put her in the right mindset. Home had her notes, but here? There were many easily imaginable objects in a school hallway—lots of doors, and lockers, and posters and things that could be extrapolated out and duplicated across the walls with a bit of internal visual calculus and a good deal of imagination.
If a door is this wide, then...
The sightlines from this corner would be...
Wait, what's that poster say? Trivia?
And now, the cafeteria. She is already here.
Just as the hallways around the tabletop club room stood sentinel, vividly and faithfully reconstructed in her memory (the map permanently drawn onto the back of Mariko's eyelids), the cafeteria was alien and mysterious by a similar measure, a place of moderate danger and social unfamiliarity. Even in off-hours Mariko generally kept herself from getting too close, reflexively path-finding away to some field or outside bench to eat on—but the poster called. The luck was hers. If the trivia was good, maybe it'd give Mariko the inspiration to finally move some of those irons around. If it was bad, then at least she'd learn what people thought of when they thought about SOTF-TV.
Not that she needed to put any more fingers on the pulse. Eyes on the prize; she really just was interested in the loot. Dosh. Moo-lah was one of her favorite words, but today wealth came in many forms.
"Helloooooooo?" Mariko called into the lunchroom dust, "I heard there was trivia today?
"...Trivia with cash involved?"
- 
- 
Small clicks of her Mary Janes slowed down with each step, before finally arriving in front of a sign. It was laminated and loud, with a short, concise message that jumped out at her:
SOTF-TV TRIVIA NIGHT
3:30 PM IN CAFETERIA
CASH PRIZE TO WINNER
Well, as mortifying as the idea of actively participating is, being just another face in a hopefully small crowd wouldn't hurt, right?
((Leah Hemingway continued from another pointless, embarrassing event in her life))
She had no shifts planned at the flower shop today. No promises for her fans to post anything. This week, she was at her father's, which meant he wouldn't know she stayed behind to watch a trivia night, of all things, anyways. If anything, she would be congratulated for finally participating in a social event, if she chose to tell him. The fact that her plan to 'participate' consists of sitting in the corner and not saying a word would go, ha, unsaid. She was tempted to ask herself what's the worst that could happen, but decided against it. All she needed was to take notes, try to train herself to get used to social events, and to try to prove to those that knew her online that she was not a fake fan. To know the objective facts, instead of spewing half-baked opinions.
Still, Leah did not quite know why she decided to actually walk into the cafeteria at 3:30 pm and sit down in one of those hard, bumpy red plastic seats. She at least made sure to swipe her hair out of the way as she sat down, letting the collection of braids amongst thin, loose keratin strands smack against her face with no resistance as she pulled out a book at random from her bag. That, at least, was something that she knew why she was doing. The cafeteria was unfamiliar to her, even when not empty, but there was this feeling of emptiness, liminal space in some form, that resulted in the area that was meant to hold hoards of children being only peppered with the few that are interested in SOTF trivia enough to come. She never thought she would be a part of that crowd.
Why was children slaughtering each other fun, anyways? To her, entertainment was entertaining because you could relate to it, and dying young was not something to be related to for fun, most of the time. Perhaps someone could tell her, unsolicited, if she gave off the gesture that she might need a little help, so that she, the quiet little wallflower she is, could listen to them drone on and on. Or not. It doesn't really matter too much to her what others are doing if she isn't involved, which, speaking of that…
A girl, tall and seeming leaking with energy, bursted into the room. Not like anyone could tell by Leah's expression, other than the small hint of fright in her widened eyes for just a fraction of a second. Good for whoever was running this game, at least, to have more people.
SOTF-TV TRIVIA NIGHT
3:30 PM IN CAFETERIA
CASH PRIZE TO WINNER
Well, as mortifying as the idea of actively participating is, being just another face in a hopefully small crowd wouldn't hurt, right?
((Leah Hemingway continued from another pointless, embarrassing event in her life))
She had no shifts planned at the flower shop today. No promises for her fans to post anything. This week, she was at her father's, which meant he wouldn't know she stayed behind to watch a trivia night, of all things, anyways. If anything, she would be congratulated for finally participating in a social event, if she chose to tell him. The fact that her plan to 'participate' consists of sitting in the corner and not saying a word would go, ha, unsaid. She was tempted to ask herself what's the worst that could happen, but decided against it. All she needed was to take notes, try to train herself to get used to social events, and to try to prove to those that knew her online that she was not a fake fan. To know the objective facts, instead of spewing half-baked opinions.
Still, Leah did not quite know why she decided to actually walk into the cafeteria at 3:30 pm and sit down in one of those hard, bumpy red plastic seats. She at least made sure to swipe her hair out of the way as she sat down, letting the collection of braids amongst thin, loose keratin strands smack against her face with no resistance as she pulled out a book at random from her bag. That, at least, was something that she knew why she was doing. The cafeteria was unfamiliar to her, even when not empty, but there was this feeling of emptiness, liminal space in some form, that resulted in the area that was meant to hold hoards of children being only peppered with the few that are interested in SOTF trivia enough to come. She never thought she would be a part of that crowd.
Why was children slaughtering each other fun, anyways? To her, entertainment was entertaining because you could relate to it, and dying young was not something to be related to for fun, most of the time. Perhaps someone could tell her, unsolicited, if she gave off the gesture that she might need a little help, so that she, the quiet little wallflower she is, could listen to them drone on and on. Or not. It doesn't really matter too much to her what others are doing if she isn't involved, which, speaking of that…
A girl, tall and seeming leaking with energy, bursted into the room. Not like anyone could tell by Leah's expression, other than the small hint of fright in her widened eyes for just a fraction of a second. Good for whoever was running this game, at least, to have more people.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3435
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Mandy wasn't hot on the heels of the girl standing in the doorway, mostly because she was coming from the opposite direction, but the spirit was similar. She was going quick, not running but power-walking fast the way you get good at if you actually do run a lot, keen to be on time. It was the long-awaited trivia night, insofar as 3:30 PM was night. Trivia afternoon didn't have a good ring to it at all, though, so it was honorary sunset she guessed.
Her shoes slapped against the linoleum, a process audible but a lot quieter than it might've sounded, and her breathing was steady and smooth. She had no idea who was running this, or whether it was going to be sick or lame or just mediocre. She didn't really care. Mandy wasn't going to win, obviously, unless this sucked way too much to be worth her time. She liked SOTF and was a fan and all, but so was everyone else, welcome to reality. She didn't know how many whacks with the axe it took that one girl to die, or what caliber bullets went into a revolver, or how many people had gone through windows and splattered from it. That was for nerds. Trivia nights were also for nerds, but cool people and confident people turned up to them too, and that was the real prize Mandy was here for.
Watching SOTF with her mom was great, really actually nice, but sometimes also just a bit lonely? She wasn't going to ditch or replace her mom, but if she got to hang out with some seniors for watch parties as well, that might be cool. Especially if there were any cute yet mysteriously un-spoken-for boys with big couches to cuddle on when it got extra violent. But being realistic she'd settle for sitting on someone's floor eating too much popcorn and picking at the carpet while everyone else talked on the sofa behind her.
Anyways the point was that this was a good way to meet people. Mandy was a few steps behind the girl in the doorway, but she looked to the side of her, stretched up high, contorted her body trying to get a peek beyond. Who was here? Who would she be playing with?
This wasn't actually going to be shy girl central, was it? Please no.
"Hi," Mandy said to the girl before her, echoing the meaning of the words that individual had just spoken as though she might have received some hidden answer, and also speaking loud enough she was sort of talking to anyone beyond too. She couldn't see much. Maybe the cafeteria was packed? "Is this the trivia thing?"
She at least hoped it wouldn't be totally lame. She wasn't even dressed up special or anything today. A boring end would mean the whole day had just passed her by and left her nothing.
Her shoes slapped against the linoleum, a process audible but a lot quieter than it might've sounded, and her breathing was steady and smooth. She had no idea who was running this, or whether it was going to be sick or lame or just mediocre. She didn't really care. Mandy wasn't going to win, obviously, unless this sucked way too much to be worth her time. She liked SOTF and was a fan and all, but so was everyone else, welcome to reality. She didn't know how many whacks with the axe it took that one girl to die, or what caliber bullets went into a revolver, or how many people had gone through windows and splattered from it. That was for nerds. Trivia nights were also for nerds, but cool people and confident people turned up to them too, and that was the real prize Mandy was here for.
Watching SOTF with her mom was great, really actually nice, but sometimes also just a bit lonely? She wasn't going to ditch or replace her mom, but if she got to hang out with some seniors for watch parties as well, that might be cool. Especially if there were any cute yet mysteriously un-spoken-for boys with big couches to cuddle on when it got extra violent. But being realistic she'd settle for sitting on someone's floor eating too much popcorn and picking at the carpet while everyone else talked on the sofa behind her.
Anyways the point was that this was a good way to meet people. Mandy was a few steps behind the girl in the doorway, but she looked to the side of her, stretched up high, contorted her body trying to get a peek beyond. Who was here? Who would she be playing with?
This wasn't actually going to be shy girl central, was it? Please no.
"Hi," Mandy said to the girl before her, echoing the meaning of the words that individual had just spoken as though she might have received some hidden answer, and also speaking loud enough she was sort of talking to anyone beyond too. She couldn't see much. Maybe the cafeteria was packed? "Is this the trivia thing?"
She at least hoped it wouldn't be totally lame. She wasn't even dressed up special or anything today. A boring end would mean the whole day had just passed her by and left her nothing.
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The Honeless Beard
- Posts: 892
- Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:47 am
- Location: Got it? Good, now get inside.
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
Ivan had arranged the area carefully, in accordance with achieving maximum sightlines towards the center of the cafeteria. Twelve tables were set up - orange plastic monstrosities with that hole in the back that would readily expose underwear type to the wary and watchful - in a loose semi-circle, four chairs to a table. Each chair was positioned so nobody had their back to him or the two nine foot posters he had sent for - the same themes and basic premises of the advertisements, but free standing and made of a glossy vinyl.
Ivan was wearing his standard outfit just in case there was a casting - nylon bomber jacket over a t-shirt that was a size too small, loose-fitting jeans and comfortable sneakers. There had not been any rumblings of a casting as far as his father would tell him, but the timing was loosely right and preparation never hurt anyone. Besides, he looked good.
He was leaning against a long bench-table he had set up for the night, covered in manilla envelopes labelled from one through five. Each had a series of questions in them that he would draw randomly and read for the teams to guess.
As a few more people filtered into the slowly filling cafeteria, he straightened and nodded towards the two new entrants.
"Yes," he called out, straightening up when the two girls stepped into twin entrances, waving both of them over, "this is the trivia. The cash prize trivia. Welcome!"
He gestured towards the tables where people were seated - most of them having taken up chairs away from the semi-circle in the polite social contract to not disturb an organized seating situation without total just cause. A few, however, including the bean-pole of a pale girl - Leah, Ivan thought her name was - had sat in the semi-circle alone, waiting for instructions.
The team event nature of the trivia night had not been put on the advertisements.
This had been purposeful.
"Why don't you guys," Ivan said to Mariko and Mandy, "sit here?"
He pointed towards Leah's table.
"You guys can be a team. The rest of you can form teams of four and the first thing we'll need are team names. We'll be starting here in a bit, so don't worry about being short handed for now. You can write your team names down on the card on the table, and once that's done we'll go over the rules."
Ivan was wearing his standard outfit just in case there was a casting - nylon bomber jacket over a t-shirt that was a size too small, loose-fitting jeans and comfortable sneakers. There had not been any rumblings of a casting as far as his father would tell him, but the timing was loosely right and preparation never hurt anyone. Besides, he looked good.
He was leaning against a long bench-table he had set up for the night, covered in manilla envelopes labelled from one through five. Each had a series of questions in them that he would draw randomly and read for the teams to guess.
As a few more people filtered into the slowly filling cafeteria, he straightened and nodded towards the two new entrants.
"Yes," he called out, straightening up when the two girls stepped into twin entrances, waving both of them over, "this is the trivia. The cash prize trivia. Welcome!"
He gestured towards the tables where people were seated - most of them having taken up chairs away from the semi-circle in the polite social contract to not disturb an organized seating situation without total just cause. A few, however, including the bean-pole of a pale girl - Leah, Ivan thought her name was - had sat in the semi-circle alone, waiting for instructions.
The team event nature of the trivia night had not been put on the advertisements.
This had been purposeful.
"Why don't you guys," Ivan said to Mariko and Mandy, "sit here?"
He pointed towards Leah's table.
"You guys can be a team. The rest of you can form teams of four and the first thing we'll need are team names. We'll be starting here in a bit, so don't worry about being short handed for now. You can write your team names down on the card on the table, and once that's done we'll go over the rules."
"Aight y'all better be ready to ante up!"
Stokes was here.
C'mon. TV Trivia. Stokes Keeper. Name a more iconic duo.
She flashed a grin at the MC. Yeah, not much of a surprise it'd be Ivan.
"Hey better keep that prize warm for me!"
Stokes was here.
C'mon. TV Trivia. Stokes Keeper. Name a more iconic duo.
She flashed a grin at the MC. Yeah, not much of a surprise it'd be Ivan.
"Hey better keep that prize warm for me!"
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 250
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: Hanging Onto A Buoy For Dear Life
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
- Contact:
At Ivan's call, Mariko stepped into the arena. Well, more like around it—she traveled around the perimeter of the table-circle (nice) to find Leah and took a seat directly across, leaving Mandy (whose squeaked greeting Mariko had noticed but chosen to, for the moment, ignore) to figure out which side she wanted to fill in.
Mariko took her backpack off and dropped it to the side next to her feet. The books inside made a small "thump!" when the bag touched down. The bookbag could kill a person if you dropped it from high up enough, but Mariko's wingspan was such that she could maybe get a few broken toes if she wasn't looking carefully at where she was putting her stuff. Thankfully, Mariko had to guess at that.
As for the team name? Mariko had just the thing—a bookmark on her phone for a SOTF-TV team name generator. There were dozens of these out there online—she imagined it was probably a popular first project for bored high school seniors taking a computer class to finish their math requirement—but this one, hosted with a list of other generator type things that Mariko had found ultra-helpful in her hours spent homebrewing (random arena concept, weapon select, game twist, et cetera—she came close to pulling the list from the generator whole a few times, but come on, Mariko was many things but plagiarist was not one of them), this one took the cake. She tapped the button, gave it a spin, and—
"Chartreuse Penguins," Mariko said. Her eyebrow twitched. She looked up from her phone, then briefly across the room at Stokes, then to the door, and then back to her phone.
"Thoughts? We can reroll."
Mariko took her backpack off and dropped it to the side next to her feet. The books inside made a small "thump!" when the bag touched down. The bookbag could kill a person if you dropped it from high up enough, but Mariko's wingspan was such that she could maybe get a few broken toes if she wasn't looking carefully at where she was putting her stuff. Thankfully, Mariko had to guess at that.
As for the team name? Mariko had just the thing—a bookmark on her phone for a SOTF-TV team name generator. There were dozens of these out there online—she imagined it was probably a popular first project for bored high school seniors taking a computer class to finish their math requirement—but this one, hosted with a list of other generator type things that Mariko had found ultra-helpful in her hours spent homebrewing (random arena concept, weapon select, game twist, et cetera—she came close to pulling the list from the generator whole a few times, but come on, Mariko was many things but plagiarist was not one of them), this one took the cake. She tapped the button, gave it a spin, and—
"Chartreuse Penguins," Mariko said. Her eyebrow twitched. She looked up from her phone, then briefly across the room at Stokes, then to the door, and then back to her phone.
"Thoughts? We can reroll."
Wait…. teams? They never said that. False advertisement.
Leah watched with twitchy fingers as the other people in the room joined her table- Her eyes briefly scanned over Mariko, as she took a sip of zero-calorie sparkling water to hide her nervousness. If she walked out, wouldn’t it make her even more embarrassing?
Yes, probably.
So she stayed. She’s not going to freak out again, she promised herself, she’s better than that. She’s better than a creature who fulfills their every instinct to run and hide the moment something goes wrong. This may not be a scenario she practiced in front of the mirror, but if she was creative enough, she could take bits and pieces of imaginary conversations, string them together and make sense.
“Oh, hello.”
Mariko said that the team should be named the Chartreuse Penguins… it sounds right in her mouth, but something is off. Maybe it was the way penguins are often associated with children, for some reason? Or the way it seems too long, too unnatural for some reason, like it’s overtly artificial. Doesn’t fit in. It still sounded better than… uh, tan bats.
“It’s fine.”
Sliding her book in her backpack, she debated whether or not to tell them she never planned on participating in the first place. The others here seemed like they are suited for trivia, anyways.
Leah watched with twitchy fingers as the other people in the room joined her table- Her eyes briefly scanned over Mariko, as she took a sip of zero-calorie sparkling water to hide her nervousness. If she walked out, wouldn’t it make her even more embarrassing?
Yes, probably.
So she stayed. She’s not going to freak out again, she promised herself, she’s better than that. She’s better than a creature who fulfills their every instinct to run and hide the moment something goes wrong. This may not be a scenario she practiced in front of the mirror, but if she was creative enough, she could take bits and pieces of imaginary conversations, string them together and make sense.
“Oh, hello.”
Mariko said that the team should be named the Chartreuse Penguins… it sounds right in her mouth, but something is off. Maybe it was the way penguins are often associated with children, for some reason? Or the way it seems too long, too unnatural for some reason, like it’s overtly artificial. Doesn’t fit in. It still sounded better than… uh, tan bats.
“It’s fine.”
Sliding her book in her backpack, she debated whether or not to tell them she never planned on participating in the first place. The others here seemed like they are suited for trivia, anyways.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3435
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"Yeah, cool," Mandy said, trotting on over in the wake of the girl who must've not heard her greeting. That was okay though, because now they were going to be on the same team for this anyways, which was actually even better than Mandy had been hoping.
She'd missed that this was a team thing somehow, oops, but also that actually made it better because Mandy was somewhere between a generalist and a specialist. She knew the basic stuff everyone knew, but presumably so did everyone on her team, but then she also knew a lot more about her favorites, which right now mostly meant AnArchy. Mandy knew that Sebastien Bellamy was the first person whose blood AnArchy licked, but because it was off the dirty sword that might be a trick question and if it was multiple choice and he wasn't there, she should pick Gabriel Munez. That was a level of detail that only big AnArchy fans and super obsessive people would remember.
She settled into her plastic chair and looked between the faces around her. There was nobody really cool enough to be on her radar in immediate sight except Stokes, (who was kind of an actual celebrity in a certain manner of speaking?) and Ivan himself (hey cool, Ivan running this meant it had to be legit, right?) but that was okay.
Mandy scooted her chair around a little, positioning her legs under the table so they were comfortable but also out of the way and not pressing against the underside. She wasn't wearing anything particularly special today, but that didn't mean she was down to mess up her skirt with somebody's gross old half-fossilized chewing gum.
"I like the penguins," Mandy offered when it came to the name game. She liked "chartreuse" too, even if it was pretty uggo as colors went; it sounded nice at least and she liked to imagine these wild bright penguins roaming around on the ice. She didn't let her mind conjure up any elephant seals at this time.
"We're gonna do great," she said. "I just know it."
This was a thing she could bring: enthusiasm. Especially for the people who were going to be helping carry her, probably. Or not. She was here to have fun with classmates, not to win, so it didn't matter if they fell on their faces.
"Oh, and hi," she added, because whoops, the first time had passed unheard, so it didn't actually count.
She'd missed that this was a team thing somehow, oops, but also that actually made it better because Mandy was somewhere between a generalist and a specialist. She knew the basic stuff everyone knew, but presumably so did everyone on her team, but then she also knew a lot more about her favorites, which right now mostly meant AnArchy. Mandy knew that Sebastien Bellamy was the first person whose blood AnArchy licked, but because it was off the dirty sword that might be a trick question and if it was multiple choice and he wasn't there, she should pick Gabriel Munez. That was a level of detail that only big AnArchy fans and super obsessive people would remember.
She settled into her plastic chair and looked between the faces around her. There was nobody really cool enough to be on her radar in immediate sight except Stokes, (who was kind of an actual celebrity in a certain manner of speaking?) and Ivan himself (hey cool, Ivan running this meant it had to be legit, right?) but that was okay.
Mandy scooted her chair around a little, positioning her legs under the table so they were comfortable but also out of the way and not pressing against the underside. She wasn't wearing anything particularly special today, but that didn't mean she was down to mess up her skirt with somebody's gross old half-fossilized chewing gum.
"I like the penguins," Mandy offered when it came to the name game. She liked "chartreuse" too, even if it was pretty uggo as colors went; it sounded nice at least and she liked to imagine these wild bright penguins roaming around on the ice. She didn't let her mind conjure up any elephant seals at this time.
"We're gonna do great," she said. "I just know it."
This was a thing she could bring: enthusiasm. Especially for the people who were going to be helping carry her, probably. Or not. She was here to have fun with classmates, not to win, so it didn't matter if they fell on their faces.
"Oh, and hi," she added, because whoops, the first time had passed unheard, so it didn't actually count.
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The Honeless Beard
- Posts: 892
- Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:47 am
- Location: Got it? Good, now get inside.
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
"Okay, folks," Ivan said, waving towards himself to gather attention like he was collecting cobwebs, "I-"
At Stokes walking in, Ivan frowned slightly, gaze redirected to the envelopes on the table before nodding in greeting. "Stokes, hey. The Penguins need a fourth, and I think that's all of our teams."
He turned towards the envelopes, waving his hand again. "Folks, if I can borrow your attention spans. You'll notice the card has fifteen lines and are labelled one through fifteen. I'm going to read each trivia question, and you guys have one minute each to answer each of the questions. I won't be repeating 'em, so listen closely!"
He ripped open the first envelope, drew from the top, and went down each question in sequence. His voice was clear, and precise, and practiced. The questions went:
"In season 12 at fifteen minutes and four seconds into the DVD Reece Cutter celebratory cut, who's voice is it that is calling out 'Red Light'?"
"Which early season winner has had three dogs in three years during their childhood?"
"When Larissa Ford went on her talk-show circuit, she had two designer dresses made and alternated them for the tour. What flower was prominently featured on the design of the dress shown second, third, fifth, sixth, eighth, and tenth in sequence?"
"In Season 46, there was a group attempting to escape comprised of three members. Fans of the show referred to this group as 'the UN'. What was the first sentence of the second paragraph of Zalika Attwood's anti-SOTF paper published in high school?"
"What is the lead editor of Season 53's dog's name?"
At Stokes walking in, Ivan frowned slightly, gaze redirected to the envelopes on the table before nodding in greeting. "Stokes, hey. The Penguins need a fourth, and I think that's all of our teams."
He turned towards the envelopes, waving his hand again. "Folks, if I can borrow your attention spans. You'll notice the card has fifteen lines and are labelled one through fifteen. I'm going to read each trivia question, and you guys have one minute each to answer each of the questions. I won't be repeating 'em, so listen closely!"
He ripped open the first envelope, drew from the top, and went down each question in sequence. His voice was clear, and precise, and practiced. The questions went:
"In season 12 at fifteen minutes and four seconds into the DVD Reece Cutter celebratory cut, who's voice is it that is calling out 'Red Light'?"
"Which early season winner has had three dogs in three years during their childhood?"
"When Larissa Ford went on her talk-show circuit, she had two designer dresses made and alternated them for the tour. What flower was prominently featured on the design of the dress shown second, third, fifth, sixth, eighth, and tenth in sequence?"
"In Season 46, there was a group attempting to escape comprised of three members. Fans of the show referred to this group as 'the UN'. What was the first sentence of the second paragraph of Zalika Attwood's anti-SOTF paper published in high school?"
"What is the lead editor of Season 53's dog's name?"
Oh.
Aright aright aright.
He was being that kind of jackass, huh?
Stokes looked at the others around the table as the first question hung in the air. Her fellow penguins, who collectively were about to make like their namesakes and belly flop in this quiz 'cause Ivan was more interested in smarming it up with an hour of google search results than actually making a fun competition.
"Yeah uh. 'less he randomly says something we randomly happen to know, look forward to fifteen minutes of this."
Stokes did grab a pencil to scribble something down about Zalika's paper, because she'd chopped up parts of that quite a lot to dialogue splice but... being real she couldn't remember it off by heart, wasn't sure how Ivan was deciding a paragraph, and knew, 100%, that unless it was perfectly accurate, he would say it was wrong.
'Cause again, he was being that kind of jackass.
Next question.
Stokes suddenly grinned.
She lowered her voice.
"Beasley."
Aright aright aright.
He was being that kind of jackass, huh?
Stokes looked at the others around the table as the first question hung in the air. Her fellow penguins, who collectively were about to make like their namesakes and belly flop in this quiz 'cause Ivan was more interested in smarming it up with an hour of google search results than actually making a fun competition.
"Yeah uh. 'less he randomly says something we randomly happen to know, look forward to fifteen minutes of this."
Stokes did grab a pencil to scribble something down about Zalika's paper, because she'd chopped up parts of that quite a lot to dialogue splice but... being real she couldn't remember it off by heart, wasn't sure how Ivan was deciding a paragraph, and knew, 100%, that unless it was perfectly accurate, he would say it was wrong.
'Cause again, he was being that kind of jackass.
Next question.
Stokes suddenly grinned.
She lowered her voice.
"Beasley."
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 250
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: Hanging Onto A Buoy For Dear Life
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
- Contact:
Woah. Woah! Mariko could attest to taking a troll through some choice winner-Twitter banter every now and then, but she could not say she stalked them well enough to be effective here. Either this was a bit—and it'd be a good one, way to grab the audience's attention by the throat, 'so why not use your strongest attack first?'—or Ivan had badly assessed his classmate's trivia skill.
"And that's two questions about dogs already," Mariko said. On its face, Ivan's canine repetition wasn't worth her remark. It'd take a third to make a pattern. Mariko considered briefly that maybe she was reading too much into it, assuming there was a message encoded in the source—just because she was puzzled didn't make this a puzzle—but then Stokes got one. Right? Beasley sounded like a dog name, at least.
The first question turned over in her head like a stone flicked over on a rocky beach.
"The first one," she said, having dampened her own voice by covering her mouth with her sleeve, "might be Bebe?"
"And that's two questions about dogs already," Mariko said. On its face, Ivan's canine repetition wasn't worth her remark. It'd take a third to make a pattern. Mariko considered briefly that maybe she was reading too much into it, assuming there was a message encoded in the source—just because she was puzzled didn't make this a puzzle—but then Stokes got one. Right? Beasley sounded like a dog name, at least.
The first question turned over in her head like a stone flicked over on a rocky beach.
"The first one," she said, having dampened her own voice by covering her mouth with her sleeve, "might be Bebe?"
Oh. He was one of those fans. She immediately felt the headache seep through her skull, sighing as she buried her head in her hand. This reaction is probably what he wanted, anyways. Ivan was terrifying and scary and sometimes a bit of a dick and probably gatekept cosplayers like herself or something.
Mariko was right. There were a disproportionate amount of dog-related trivia questions. She didn’t know what’s his deal, nor did she know what’s society’s deal with doggos and puppers and their toe beans and whatever.
She knew nothing about this- hell, she probably couldn’t name more than half of the winners, but she remembered Larissa’s dress because someone asked her to cosplay as it and she was like “no thanks” because it looked like it cost 1000 bucks and probably a piece of her soul to make.
They were hibiscuses. In China, they were associated with wealth, glory, and fame. In others, they mean beauty, youth, and femininity. A lot of their associations were due to how short-lived they were. It was… was it ironic that it was worn by the longest lived of them all?
“The dress was hibiscus themed, but… sorry, I don’t know anything about the rest.”
Mariko was right. There were a disproportionate amount of dog-related trivia questions. She didn’t know what’s his deal, nor did she know what’s society’s deal with doggos and puppers and their toe beans and whatever.
She knew nothing about this- hell, she probably couldn’t name more than half of the winners, but she remembered Larissa’s dress because someone asked her to cosplay as it and she was like “no thanks” because it looked like it cost 1000 bucks and probably a piece of her soul to make.
They were hibiscuses. In China, they were associated with wealth, glory, and fame. In others, they mean beauty, youth, and femininity. A lot of their associations were due to how short-lived they were. It was… was it ironic that it was worn by the longest lived of them all?
“The dress was hibiscus themed, but… sorry, I don’t know anything about the rest.”
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3435
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"That's awesome," Mandy said quietly. "Wow. You guys know so much."
This was a great opportunity to put social skills into actions. Specifically, Mandy had abruptly become aware of what her role in this team was actually going to be, and it was cheerleader. Because, whoa, it turned out this was a trivia game that was playing for keeps, and Mandy watched SOTF and such but she had turned on the commentary track for the show maybe three times ever and two of those were by mistake.
All this stuff about high school papers and flower imagery and dogs and stuff was super cool, of course. She could see a world where she knew the answers to perhaps one little slice of this, because there were pieces that brushed up against her interests. Flower themes? That was cool, that was mixing outfits with communication in a thematic way kind of like she did with Disney characters. She understood that. And dogs? She was still trying to hash out how she was going to swing it, but she had a dog-related project on her slate right now that was coming along nicely. It was just, the specific trivial minutiae at play here was the sort of thing she couldn't find actually interesting in its own right. It was stuff she would've learned and remembered by mistake, maybe.
She rocked her chair a little bit, the legs scraping softly against the linoleum cafeteria floor. Really, she would've thought that Ivan was joking, especially since Stokes didn't seem super thrilled, but they were figuring pieces out so maybe it was fair? Mandy was just in over her head and didn't feel particularly equipped to judge.
Really, just being part of this was enough. Probably everyone else was just as clueless or even more so, but Mandy was lucky to be on the Penguins where they knew a little, and that just might mean they actually had a shot.
This was a great opportunity to put social skills into actions. Specifically, Mandy had abruptly become aware of what her role in this team was actually going to be, and it was cheerleader. Because, whoa, it turned out this was a trivia game that was playing for keeps, and Mandy watched SOTF and such but she had turned on the commentary track for the show maybe three times ever and two of those were by mistake.
All this stuff about high school papers and flower imagery and dogs and stuff was super cool, of course. She could see a world where she knew the answers to perhaps one little slice of this, because there were pieces that brushed up against her interests. Flower themes? That was cool, that was mixing outfits with communication in a thematic way kind of like she did with Disney characters. She understood that. And dogs? She was still trying to hash out how she was going to swing it, but she had a dog-related project on her slate right now that was coming along nicely. It was just, the specific trivial minutiae at play here was the sort of thing she couldn't find actually interesting in its own right. It was stuff she would've learned and remembered by mistake, maybe.
She rocked her chair a little bit, the legs scraping softly against the linoleum cafeteria floor. Really, she would've thought that Ivan was joking, especially since Stokes didn't seem super thrilled, but they were figuring pieces out so maybe it was fair? Mandy was just in over her head and didn't feel particularly equipped to judge.
Really, just being part of this was enough. Probably everyone else was just as clueless or even more so, but Mandy was lucky to be on the Penguins where they knew a little, and that just might mean they actually had a shot.
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The Honeless Beard
- Posts: 892
- Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:47 am
- Location: Got it? Good, now get inside.
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
Ivan waited patiently. Patience was among one of his best virtues, after all. He afforded them seventy seconds each to answer the questions and then tapped a bell on the table to signal the time up.
As soon as his stopwatch read 1:10, he tapped the bell button three times to signal the end of the writing process.
"Pencil's down, folks," he said, collecting the answers, "give me a few to tally the scores."
He flipped through each card, smirking lightly at each answer. When he got to the Penguins', he stiffened.
Beasley.
He fucking knew it when he took this test. Stokes. This had to fucking be Stokes. Her useless team got every other answer half right or right but of course she would know the fucking name of the dog. What a fucking fake ass fan, does not know frames and probably does not even follow the medical journals about the seasons but of course would know the name of the fucking dog. Beasley was a stupid fucking name anyways. Who named their dog something they would name a person that was just absurd. Fuck Stokes. She could not hang with him on her best day, and the rest of the trivia card was proof.
Fuck Stokes.
"The Penguins got the most correct," he said, "at five correct answers. You guys win the prize."
Ivan grabbed the envelope and tossed it onto their table with a muffled fwap. Inside was eighty bucks in twenties, and a printout of an official trivia scorecard with each of the questions Ivan had asked of them. Ivan's name was printed on the top, with two lines of information underneath it:
Time Taken to complete, 13:36.
Score, 14/15
"Thanks all for coming out," he said, stiffly, and left them in the cafeteria.
Fucking Beasley.
As soon as his stopwatch read 1:10, he tapped the bell button three times to signal the end of the writing process.
"Pencil's down, folks," he said, collecting the answers, "give me a few to tally the scores."
He flipped through each card, smirking lightly at each answer. When he got to the Penguins', he stiffened.
Beasley.
He fucking knew it when he took this test. Stokes. This had to fucking be Stokes. Her useless team got every other answer half right or right but of course she would know the fucking name of the dog. What a fucking fake ass fan, does not know frames and probably does not even follow the medical journals about the seasons but of course would know the name of the fucking dog. Beasley was a stupid fucking name anyways. Who named their dog something they would name a person that was just absurd. Fuck Stokes. She could not hang with him on her best day, and the rest of the trivia card was proof.
Fuck Stokes.
"The Penguins got the most correct," he said, "at five correct answers. You guys win the prize."
Ivan grabbed the envelope and tossed it onto their table with a muffled fwap. Inside was eighty bucks in twenties, and a printout of an official trivia scorecard with each of the questions Ivan had asked of them. Ivan's name was printed on the top, with two lines of information underneath it:
Time Taken to complete, 13:36.
Score, 14/15
"Thanks all for coming out," he said, stiffly, and left them in the cafeteria.
Fucking Beasley.