fandomhigh | Summer Games [Wednesday]

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summer games

Summer Games [Wednesday]

A fully grown Anakin Skywalker was back in his normal spot in the park, megaphone in hand. In addition to the normal bleachers, the park had a number of tables set out with an inordinate amount of craft sticks and hot glue guns.

More worryingly, there was a giant bullseye spray-painted onto the grass.

"Welcome back!" Anakin said, absolutely blustering past the part where last week he'd been 17 years old with a deeply regrettable haircut. "Today you will be building catapults out of craft sticks and glue! It must be capable of propelling a meter tall object towards that bullseye--" he pointed to the grass helpfully. "Whichever team comes closest to hitting the buillseye gets to keep the fish for the week. Do not tank on purpose just because you don't want the fish!"

He glared at everyone to make his displeasure known about that. "You have an hour and a half to work on and complete your design! Please listen for your name to know which group you belong to! Group One: Peter, Norman, Kitty, and Paris. Group Two: Hannibal, Liam, Astrid, and Kanan. Group Three: Sabine, Rosa, Jono, and Tip. Group Four: Zack, Ahsoka, Cristina, and Verity. Group Five: Steve, Bobby, Cara, and Miguel. Group Six: Sidon, Hera, Rey, Amaya, and Uma."

[OOC: EDITED TO ADD: There are also rubber bands, rope, buckets, cloth, macrame gremlin ensembles, and other moddable stuff hiding under the tables. I totally remembered. Really. Cough.]

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The normal snack vendors are back--this time as adults--and the food is much healthier this week.

Or at least not all covered in terrifying fake cheese.

Rosa had no idea what she was doing back here again. Why did she keep coming back? It was almost as if part of her might actually be enjoying these things, but no, that was stupid and wrong. But there she was anyway, arms folded, brow furrowed. If anything, she supposed she was just keeping an eye on things because it was kind of her job. That's what it was. Just doing her job.

Not all covered in terrifying fake cheese, nah, but that wasn't stopping Reno from ordering a platter of fries and telling them to slather 'em in it. Just for fun.

Half of them were going to be fed to the ducks anyway. He mostly just wanted to see the look on the vendor's face when he ordered it.

Cristina bought some snacks and looked across the park with a sigh.

"How do I still have nothing better to do than this?"

"The island's curse," Hannibal offered. "When it isn't being odd, there isn't much happening."

He gave Cristina a little bow and presented her with a book. It was bound nicely and quite heavy. And full of modern medical illustrations on human anatomy. "You seemed to enjoy the one. I thought I might demonstrate that my hand isn't entirely lacking," he said with a smirk.

Hey, since they couldn't have a heart-surgery-off, this seemed like a good substitute.

"Hm?" Cristina took the book and flipped through. "Pretty! Not quite like looking at the real thing, but you captured a good likeness." She looked up at Hannibal. "Nicely done, Frenchie."

Well. At least it wasn't Dr. Creepy anymore.

Hannibal chuckled. "Lithuanian. I went to school in France. At that age, I'd been speaking primarily French for years. How did you enjoy your first taste of Fandom's more interesting oddities?"

"Everyone keeps saying that. The first taste was when the island kidnapped me in the first place."

Hannibal nodded in acknowledgement. "I confess I suspected it would do that when I attempted to drive you to the airport, but I doubted you would believe me if I tried to say as much. You've still had no luck leaving?"

"Nnnnope. Haven't even managed to do more than leave voicemails for the folks back home, yet."

Meredith's voicemail box was full of some very frustrated Cristina rants.

Hannibal grimaced. "That sounds singularly unpleasant. As much as I enjoy my life here, I should hate to be trapped. Can you go other places, simply not home, or nowhere?"

"I can go about halfway down the causeway. Presumably. I'm not really sure at what point I stop going and start coming."

"Have you attempted to use Portalocity yet?" Hannibal asked. He pointed in their direction. "They offer portals to other realities. I use them quite frequently. They have a tendency to be...erratic," he said, "but if you can intimidate them enough, they are adequately dependable."

He doubted that would be a problem for Cristina.

“So not only are they providing a service that’s patently impossible, they not even doing it WELL.” Cristina shook her head. “Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on trying that.”

Re: Arrive and Mingle!

sharp_man - 2018-06-15 00:44 (UTC) - Expand

Astrid had come to the park a little early that day, partly because she didn't have anything better to do, but mostly because she wanted to sit and draw for a little bit before everything got too crazy. She grabbed something to eat, then settled under a tree where she had a good view of the main activity area, starting with the sketch of the landscape and then slowly, slowly, starting to fill in the people as they arrived.

"That's not bad," Hannibal noted, watching over her shoulder.

Astrid was so focused on what was in front of her, on capturing her "Attitude" teacher feeding ducks with more cheese than fries, imagining how she might have to take her colored pencils later and scribble in the brightest yellow she could find, little squares of white to capture just how strangely beautiful the gloopy gleam of the sun off it was, that she didn't even notice what might be going on behind her.

"Hm?" she turned her head, a little startled, more cat than deer-in-headlights. She blinked at the man, and then shrugged her shoulders. "Oh. Um...thank you."

"Do you prefer to work with landscapes?" Hannibal asked, indicating her picture. "Or is it merely what is here?"

"I..." Astrid paused a moment to think about it, looking forward, wondering who her next subject to add to the building picture would be, "...like to draw what I see."

She actually didn't like sketching that much, but it was something she could easily do anywhere, because she needed to do something with her hands, and it helped bridge the gap between her eyes and the world. It helped that she was really good at it, though, of course.

"It's usually people, things, I've been doing a lot of flowers lately, too."

Hannibal nodded. "I prefer art and architecture myself. The school is quite fascinating to sketch. Although I must admit, the people here are quite interesting in their own right."

Speaking of which...finishing one last ridiculous spike of Reno's hair, Astrid ducked her head for a moment, then tossed it back a little to get her own hair out of the way as she shifted her attention, shifted her pencil, and started to draw Sidon making his goodbye speech to the fish.

Once she had the basic form down that made it clear who it was, she paused before doing the detailing and lifted her chin.

"You think he ever takes off that costume?" she asked.

"Which costume?" Hannibal asked. He glanced from her sketch to Sidon. "His jewels?" Hannibal shrugged. "He is a prince; I imagine that's simply what he's used to wearing."

"Hmm."

Astrid made a thoughtful noise, focusing now specifically on the jewels, which also worked well for her tendency to focus on light and how it played on different shapes and materials, as she thought about another failed test, wondering if there was anyone on this island who didn't just buy into all the madness, or maybe most of them were actually just like her, they didn't really believe any of it, but they acted like they did because that was just easier than trying to fight it.

"Yeah," she said, with the same thoughtful tone as her hum. "I guess you're right."

Yes, Hannibal was aware what she had meant, but he chose to ignore it as a politeness to Sidon. Either she would learn, or she would not. It was nothing to him. Unless perhaps she went mad; that could prove interesting.

"I generally am. Then again, you are free to ask him," Hannibal pointed out.

Sidon was there, of course, with the Fish tucked under his arm, trailing water from being essentially waterlogged in a giant tank for the entire week. "Well," he said, holding it out once he got to the park and the edge of the activities, expecting Master Skywalker to call it back to him at any moment, "it appears that it is our time to say farewell. It has been an honor to have you in my possession, Songbird of the Sea, and may the next victor treat you well and show you the respect such an elaborate and unique piece of machinery such as yourself deserves. I will miss your company, but I am glad that someone else will get to enjoy your marvelously bizarre presence."

And, for one last time, he pressed the button and closed his eyes to enjoy.

Technically, yes, it was still playing music. Just music that sounded like it was still coming from 20,000 leagues under.

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