Fandom High School

"This," said Rosa, padded up herself and holding up what could best be described as large weapons with foam at the ends that in no way resembled a giant Q-tip, "is a pugil stick. That," she pointed the stick at the sets of raised platforms positioned close to each other around the arena, "is our battle ground. This," she indicated the arena as a whole, "is Joust. The rules are simple: each gladiator take a platform and one of these sticks, and the goal is knock the gladiator on the other platform off."

That was it. No acknowledgement or apologies or explanation about her absence last week. Just right to the point, because it was no one's damn business.

Besides, anything more than the basics was just wasting precious time that could be used beating each other with foam sticks.

"Simple, right? Usually, I do this tournament style, but, since the numbers are a little wonky for that this time around, we're just going to do a bunch of different rounds and different pair-ups. Honestly, that works out better, anyway, because that means you get more time hitting things even if you suck. And, because this one's a personal favorite of mine, too, I'll be joining in. That gives us uneven numbers, though, so I asked someone else to come join us."

And that would be the time when the nine-foot-tall sharkman made his appearance in the ring.

"Hello, everyone!" Sidon burst out with a bright, toothy grin, practically making the pugil stick look like an actual Q-tip in his hands. "Are you ready to do battle and swing your way to victory?"

"Everyone," Rosa, don't look so smug, "meet Leviathan, a Fandom Gladiators veteran. Have fun with that."

And, with that? It was time to get started.

Another week, another day in the Arena, this time set up with a multitude of various structures and obstacles of a boxy and moddable nature spread throughout, with two tall turrets at one end with a large mounted gun on each of them.

"Today's event," Rosa explained, "is Assault, the game of Hit or Be Hit. On top of each of the turrets, you'll see a target. Your goal is to hit those targets; there are various moddable projectile weapons," things like crossbows, rocket launchers, hand grenades, a glitter stick that just shot glitter and that was it, "scattered throughout the course for you to find, but while you're trying to get to them, two of your fellow Gladiators -- that'll be me and Annie for winning last week's game -- will be shooting tennis balls out of air cannons at you. Also, this was originally a one-on-one game, but that's not as much," chaos, "fun. We're doing a free-for-all, so you could very well experience a ground assault from your fellow players as well, and we've definitely made the arena larger and with more obstacles to compensate for that, too.

"Whoever gets the most targets by the end of class wins. Simple, right? Annie, get your gun. Everyone else, find a spot on the opposite side and wait for my mark to begin."

Yoga had been surprisingly great, but maybe a little too chill for Rosa to want to keep up consistently. The beastly savagery demanded a return, and so she found herself, once again, back in the ridiculously stupid Fandom Gladiators mod here in the Danger Shop, and loving every second of it.

"Well, everyone," she started, "congratulations on being in the coolest class available in the summer," yes, cooler even than Paintball, she knew that was a bold claim, but she was going to stand by that, dammit, "Fandom Gladiators, where weekly, you'll be put to the test in a series of physical challenges to see who comes out on top...or at least sucks less than the others. My name is...not important, because when we're in the arena, we will only be known by our gladiator names. Mine is Exterminator. I have lived up to that name through many, many Fandom Gladiator classes in the past. So, you're all going to pick your own gladiator name...or get assigned one by me, which you do not want. Trust me on that. You want something cool and intimidating, like Hawk or Nitro or Storm. Bonus points if you put together a backstory or gimmick, but choose wisely, because once you pick your gladiator name, you're going to be stuck with it.

"Then? We're going to suit up," she gestured toward the collection of foam pads and helmets, "because even though this is the Danger Shop so no one will really get hurt, it's part of the traditional Gladiator uniform. And if you were an idiot and didn't wear clothes you can move easily in, don't worry. We have you covered with some clearly very flattering gym uniforms.

"And once that's out of the way," Rosa finished, "get ready, because we're doing Human Cannonball. Not as cool as it sounds, but you still get to run into people, so still pretty cool. I'll explain more when we're finished suiting up and naming ourselves. You." She quirked her chin up at the quintessential nearest random person. "You go first."

When the Gladiators came into the arena that day, they would find they'd find a sort of race track set up for them. Only it was on the ceiling. And upside down.

A Sky Track, if you will.

Of course, the Fandom version, for obvious reasons, had to be a little more complex than just an upside down race track, that was just too simple, so flanking the whole course were several little turret stations with some serious heavy duty water guns.

"This," Rosa announced, "is the Sky Track. It's an upside down racetrack that you'll be harnessed into and have to race each other while upside down. Easy, right? Well. Maybe a little easier for some of you.

"We're doing ellimination rounds this time. Everyone starts out racing on the first race, loser is out. Lather, rinse, repeat, until there's only one of you left standing. To make things more interesting, when you're not racing, if you'd like, you can man one of these turret stations and try to make things a little more interesting for our racers by shooting either foam balls at them or water; there are guns that shoot both. Use these weapons to mess up the racers or exact revenege or just be a little shit or whatever. If there aren't any questions, let's get everyone harnessed up and ready to go."

Was there really any rhyme or reason as to which games Rosa was picking for which weeks at this point? Not really. Most of the time, she just sort of picked something from a hat. But it worked out, because she was rarely disappointed with what she ended up picking for any given week.

After all, how can anyone be disappointed in anything involving large metal ball cages?

"Today," she informed the class, "we do the Atlasphere, which is basically just an excuse to roll around in big metal cage balls. There are five slightly raised scoring pods on the field; your goal is to try and activate as many of them as possible in the allotted time by rolling your atlasphere onto it. You'll know you got it because it'll emit smoke into your atlasphere when done right, then move on to the next and try to prevent the others from scoring more points. You've got five minutes to gear up and get settled in your sphere, then then we're off. Coyote, since you won last week, you get an advantage this week: we've rigged your atlasphere so that when you run into someone else, theirs is frozen in place for about five seconds.

"So that should be fun. Any questions before we get started?"

If there were, you were just wasting precious time that could be spent rolling around in a big metal cage.

The Gladiators would come into the Danger Shop that day to find the arena focused around a large foam pyramid, so if anyone was wondering what they might be doing for this week's challenge, Rosa might let you skip wearing the helmet this week because there was clearly nothing up there that needed to be protected.

"Alright, Gladiators," she nodded once they all seemed settled, "welcome back. Glad you've survived to at least the second class. This," she gestured...well, half-gestured...it was a gesture if you had a lot of imagination...toward the foam pyramid, "is the Pyramid. The goal is simple: get to the top. But, of course, it won't be that simple. Based on your performances last week with the Human Cannonball, Beast, Nebulizer, Coyote: you are all the Defenders of the Pyramid. Do whatever it takes to make sure the other gladitors don't reach the top.

"In previously classes, we've done this in heats and races, but since this is a smaller class this semester and we've got three defenders, we're doing it free-for-all style. Whoever manages to get through the defenders and reach the top first might get an advantage next time, who knows? You'll have to survive to see.

"Any questions? If not, let's gear up and get going. Defenders, head on up and get ready to defend the territory; the rest of you, get limber, get stretched, and get ready."

Yeah, it would figure that as soon as Rosa took the seriously crazy leap into actual cohabitating with someone she cared about, this place would throw some sort of weird shared nightmare memory thing at her. She did not want to talk about it. She just wanted to hit people with things.

Which was great, because that was exactly what they were doing for class that day!

The Arena was set up with a multitude of various structures and obstacles of a boxy and moddable nature spread throughout, with several tall turrets spread throughout, with one at the end sporting a large mounted gun on each of them.

"Today's event," Rosa explained, "is Assault, the game of Hit or Be Hit. On top of each of the turrets, you'll see a target. Your goal is to hit those targets; there are various moddable projectile weapons," things like crossbows, rocket launchers, hand grenades, a glitter stick that just shot glitter and that was it, "scattered throughout the course for you to find, but while you're trying to get to them, I'll be in the gun-mounted turret, shooting you with tennis balls. This was originally a one-on-one game, but that's not as much," chaos, "fun. We're doing a free-for-all, so you could very well experience a ground assault from your fellow players as well.

"Whoever gets the most targets by the end of class wins. Simple, right? I'm going to go man my station, and as soon as I'm in position, we'll begin."

The arena that day was set up to be pretty open, a playing field of sorts marked with several basket-like stands at various intervals.

"Okay, so," Rosa began, "this is Powerball; it's extremely simple to play. You'd have to be a moron to not figure it out. You run around, get the balls in the basket. Each ball in a basket is a point, whoever has the most points at the end winds. We'll be dividing you into two teams. It's kind of like basketball, I guess, only there's more baskets and you're encouraged to hit and run into each other."

A pause.

"So...football.

"Whatever. Let's go."

The Gladiators would come into the Danger Shop that day to find a large foam pyramid at the center of the arena, so if anyone was wondering what they might be doing for this week's challenge, Rosa might let you skip wearing the helmet this week because there was clearly nothing up there that needed to be protected.

"Alright, Gladiators," she nodded once they all seemed settled, "this is the Pyramid. The goal is simple: get to the top. But, of course, it won't be that simple. The Chosen One. The Hammer. Assuming you were there. Since the two of you had the highest points in the Atlasphere challenge last week, you have been selected to defend the top of the pyramid. Do whatever it takes to make sure the other gladitors don't reach the top. We'll be going in rounds in pairs of two; the first one to the top gets the chance to compete again for ultimate champion, which...might give you an advantage next week.

"Any questions? If not, let's gear up and get going. The Chosen One," was she ever going to say that name and not make a face at it? Probably not, "the Hammer, head on up and get ready to defend the territory; the rest of you, get limber, get stretched, and get ready."

[[ocd is on the way! up! Have at it! ]

Assuming the school was on a generator, at least for the duration of workshops, because I did NOT have a good back-up plan Rosa generally looked forward to running this class, but she had to admit, this week in particular had an added interesting element because she figured it might be a little easier getting everyone into absurd spandex when the other options provided by the island really weren't that much better.

They would also find themselves in a ridiculously obnoxious stadium. Today, the center was set up with a series of platforms in a row on one side, and a much higher set of platforms on the other side with ropes hanging down, all set over a vast pool of water. Water that might look nice and refreshing and cool but was actually just slightly warmer than lukewarm because Rosa was mean and thought it was hilarious.

Rosa, already decked out in her own spandex because what she had left to wear was really not appropriate for class anyway, waited until it looked like everyone was there to get started. "Welcome to Fandom Gladiators," she said, "a reference I'm sure very few of you actually get, unless you've had this class when I've taught it before in the past, in which case, why are you back, and should I be worried about you? Anyway, this is a competition class, where I'm going to pit you all against each other in stupid games and over-the-top challenges for no reason except for the fact that I think it's funny. I guess you could argue that it might help better your atheletic prowess, your skill, your stamina, but that arguement would be dumb.

"First things first," she gestured toward a collection of helmets, knee pads, and elbow pads. "Suit up. Yeah, I know it's the Danger Shop so no one gets hurt, but it's a traditional uniform for this kind of thing." Which was kind of true? "Also, the island has been nice enough to not take away these fantastic singlets to really get everyone in the spirit of the tournament.

"Now, since this is the first week, there's usually some kind of introductions, but here's the thing: I don't care who you are. Especially not in the class, because as soon as you enter this arena, you're going to be someone else. You are a Fandom Gladiator, and that means you have to pick your gladiator name. Make it something cool and intimidating, like Hawk or Nitro or Storm. Bonus points if you put together a backstory or gimmick, but choose wisely, because once you pick your gladiator name, you're going to be stuck with it for the rest of the class.

"With one exception." Here, Rosa seemed to almost grin a little. "For today's competition, we'll be doing the Human Cannonball, which is not as cool as it sounds, because there are no actual cannons involved. But you will get to fly at each other and try to knock each other down, so there is that. I've added a water element, too, in the spirit of the week, and a prize. Whoever wins today gets the prestigious honor of getting to rename one of their fellow Gladiators, and the name they choose will be their new name for the rest of the session.

"Any questions? If not, let's suit up and get started."

[[ and you know I've got OCD for this one is up! Go forth and gladiator! ]]

With the week being fairly normal for a Fandom week this summer, Rosa wondered if she should take advantage of the lack of weirdness to do something more elaborate, but why go with something elaborate when you could just go with something easy and dumb? And who knew what next week would have in store for them, so she'd better get this one out before it was too late, because it was kind of one of the best.

The arena that morning was set up as a big, large pit, bigger than last time, because instead of just accomidating seven large metal ball cages, it needed to have plenty of room for fourteen of them to be rolling around.

This was going to be so great.

"Today," she informed the class, "we do the Atlasphere, which is basically just an excuse to roll around in big metal cage balls. There are ten slightly raised scoring pods on the field; your goal is to try and activate as many of them as possible in the allotted time by rolling your atlasphere onto it. You'll know you got it because it'll emit smoke into your atlasphere when done right, then move on to the next and try to prevent the others from scoring more points. You've got five minutes to gear up and get settled in your sphere, then then we're off. Whichever team scores the most points by the end wins. Simple as that. Any questions?"

It was seriously the most simple thing ever. Big ball, roll around, score points, run into people. Especially run into people...

[[ ocd incoming is up! hooray! ]]

The class was still being held in the Danger Shop, and it would still be a baseless competition between a bunch of kids and a handful of adults who should probably know better, but that was about the only thing that was the same with the typical Fandom Gladiators class that Friday, right down to the arena and the woman in charge of the whole thing.

There was still an arena, there was that, at least, but instead of the cheap futuristic day-glo vision that usually greeted them, the class would find themselves in a collusium much more historical, which meant that actual gladiator Rosdias, in all her scantily-armored glory, felt right at home.

"Gladiators!" she greeted the assembled warriors with a booming voice, leaning on a spear. "Prepare yourselves! For this morning we engage in the ultimate battle! Veterans versus novices...versus beasts! Release the lions!"

And that was apparently all the preparation they were going to get before the gates were lifted and the lions charged out, though they were likely not about to be discriminate or biased toward whether they were on the teachers' side or the students'.

Good luck!

[[ ocd on the way! is up! Go forth and battle! ]]

Because smoke-filled skies during the day and creepy-ass nightmare fuel during the night wasn't disorientating enough, Rosa decided this week might be a good week to debut the Sky Track. So when the gladiators entered the Arena that day, they'd find a sort of race track set up for them. Only it was on the ceiling. And upside down.

Of course, esepcially considering the proclivities of certain people to be able to just hang from stuff like it's no problem, upside down racing seemed just a little bit too simple, so Rosa had added another element on the ground, because flanking the whole course were several little turret stations with some guns that might look familiar to those who were in the class last semester.

"This," Rosa announced, "is the Sky Track. It's an upside down racetrack that you'll be harnessed into and have to race each other while upside down. Easy, right?" Well, for some of you, Spider-Man.

"I've broken everyone down into heats; you'll race each other, and then the winners will go up against each other tournament style until there's only one person standing. To make things more interesting, when you're not racing, if you'd like, you can man one of these turret stations and try to make things a little more interesting for our racer by shooting either foam balls at them or water; there are guns that shoot both. Use these weapons to try to impede your competition or help out your allies. Just remember, kids, we totally kicked your butts last week," granted, there had been quite a few more teachers than students due to, you know, dumb labyrinth stuff. "You think you can handle it if we do it again this time around?"

Because, spoiler alert: they totally would.

[[ ocd is complex and on the way finally up! have at it! ]]

Well, considering what some of the kids had looked like during paintball earlier in the week (when she wasn't too busy trying to think about how to get back at Blackstone for shooting her in the butt to notice, anyway), and when the island in general seemed to be going through at the moment, Rosa wasn't entirely sure what to expect to show up to her class today. She wasn't too worried about it, though, because the final Gladiator event was pretty open to just about anything, which worked out well. Because no matter who showed up or what they showed up as, it was going to be entertaining as hell.

"Alright, Gladiators," she told them once...whoever managed to or decided to show up were there, "it's your last time to shine, and we're doing it with Powerball. How to play is simple: gets as many of the balls of your assigned color into goal baskets as you can, and do whatever you can to prevent your opponents from getting their balls into the baskets. If you have trouble figuring that out..."

Rosa shook her head, because she was convinced you were pretty hopeless at that part. "Gear up, listen for your colors, and then let's go!"

[[ ocd incoming! is up! GO GO GO! ]]

Should the students be a little concerned when they came into the Danger Shop arena that day to find their teacher already decked out with the pads herself?

Yeah, maybe a little. Not to mention the large stick she was leaning on that basically resembled a giant q-tip wrapped in duct tape.

As it was, the area was set up with several pairs of very small raised platforms set very close to each other, so if you hadn't been able to put things together by now, lucky you, Rosa was about to explain.

"Today," she said, "we joust. The concept is simple: each gladiator take a platform and one of these sticks, and the goal is to knock the gladiator on the other platform off. Simple, right? We're doing this tournament style, in randomly picked pairs, and, since there's an odd number of you, that means I'll be competing as well. So good luck with that. If there aren't any questions, let's just get started."

She...just might be way too eager for an excuse to whale on a kid with a giant q-tip under the guise of teaching valuable lessons. They were clearly just wasting good beat-down time.

[[ ocd is....up! Have at it! ]]

"I'm going to make this quick," said Rosa, once everyone was gathered again in the now-familiar danger shop stadium, which was set up like an incredibly elaborate (and fully moddable) obstacle course, while holding an extremely wriggly dog that clearly wanted to be anywhere except in her arms right now, "because this stupid little dummy," said with the utmost affection, of course, "has been cooped up in an apartment almost all week and is about to explode. This isn't an actual game from the show; this right here's a Fandom Gladiators original.

"First one to catch the dog three times wins. Janet, since you won last week," somehow, "your advantage this week is that you only have to catch the dog twice to win. Good luck everyo--"

That was the precise moment that Arlo 2 finally managed to escape from Rosa's arms and go tearing down the stadium with a happy bark and climbing up on ALL THE THINGS, ohmygosh, so many things, all the things, so much room, all the room! ALL THE RUNNING NOW!! Bark bark bark, come and plaaaaaaay new friends!!

"Okay, then," Rosa grunted at her nice dramatic build-up being completely ruined by energy and cute. "Go, I guess. But if any of you hurt that dog," then you were clearly a monster anyway, "I will end you."


[[ ocd is incoming up! GO GO GO! ]]

Well, Rosa had finally given in. She was having a class held in the Danger Shop, finally, though she spent a good portion of the time glaring at it, waiting for it to malfunction or stop working right or just generally be frustrating, because she had a bit of a tentative relationship with technology. The thing was suspiciously easy to use, really, and Rosa didn't trust it one bit.

....she didn't not trust it enough to prevent her from using it to make kids whale on each other, of course, but you know how it is. Either way, it was important that this whole thing be set up in a completely ridiculous stadium, after all. Today, the center area was set up with a row of round, raised platforms to one side, much higher platforms all the way on the other side, and ropes hanging down from them.

Rosa waited until it looked like everyone was there before getting started. "I'm pretty sure most of you don't get the reference and have no idea what you're about to get into," she started, "but welcome to Fandom Gladiators. This will be a competition class where I'm basically just pitting you against each other in a series of ridiculous and over-the-top activities for no other real purpose than that it's hilarious. I guess you could argue that it might help better your atheletic prowess, your skill, your stamina, but that arguement would be dumb.

"First things first," she gestured toward a collection of helmets, knee pads, and elbow pads. "Suit up. Yeah, I know it's the Danger Shop so no one gets hurt, but it's a traditional uniform for this kind of thing." Which was kind of true? "And if you were an idiot and didn't wear clothes that you can move easily in today, don't worry. We've got some great patriotic uniforms you can borrow."

She expected everyone in the class would dress appropriately from here on in.

"I know it's the first week, which usually means introductions, but here's the thing: I don't care who you are. Especially not in the class, because as soon as you enter this arena, you're going to be someone else. Before we get started, you have to pick your gladiator name. Something cool and intimidating, like Hawk or Nitro or Storm. Bonus points if you put together a backstory or gimmick, but choose wisely, because one you pick your gladiator name, you're going to be stuck with it.

"And once we're done with that, the real fun begins, though this week, I'm going easy on you. We're doing the Human Cannonball. Which is not as cool as it sounds, there are no cannons involved. But you will get to fly at each other and try to knock each other down, so...there's that."

[[ ocd on the way is up! Go forth in battle!! ]]