YOU'RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT

[sictransitgloriamundi]

WHO: the Captain + You
WHAT: contractually obligated price is right game
WHEN: 11/18, like nightish?
WHERE: Bellona Theater
WARNINGS: N/A, currently

[you've heard the announcement, the sound of Friday's cautious optimism as she spoke it. you've waited all day. now, it's time for the game.

the amount of effort that has gone into this production at Bellona can be safely defined as “minimal.” there are three podiums, with three slate boards and three pieces of chalk. there is another podium, currently empty, next to a plain folding table. there is a tablecloth draped over the table, covering a lumpy, inscrutable shape.

the most remarkable thing is the giant wheel set up on the other side of the empty podium. the slices of the giant circle are colorful, but also completely blank. the Captain actually spends 30 minutes prior to the start of the event simply sitting in front of it, back to the audience, and spinning it, listening to the loud clacking noise pick up and then die down again, before spinning it once more.

clackclackclack clack clack. clack. clackclackclackclackclack.

it's gonna be a long night.]

Comments

ROUND ELEVEN

[sictransitgloriamundi]

D4C730AA78AD. Eddie Munson. Liz Malloy. Come on down.

Your object is...



El Chamuco.

[thefreak]

[ What the fuck is this?

It looks kind of cursed but also somehow metal as fuck??

He writes down $900 and calls it a day. ]

Re: ROUND ELEVEN

[crushed_pearls]

Erin freezes when that name is called. It's not fear; a killing rage steals over her expression, and her playful gunpowder haze becomes the murderous thunder of a gun line. She stands, slowly. Spares glances for Darcy, for Ossie, for Giles.

For Crabb.

(We could run.)

Run where, exactly? If this is how he wants to be about it, fine. Our momma. Did not raise. No. Bitch.

The power move would be to just try to write down an answer, but there are...other factors in play.

"Liz Malloy is dead. I buried her in my garden." The calm tone is belied by the powder continuing to go absolutely apeshit. Then, to the audience: "Anyone wanna tell me what it is I'm not looking at?"

[midnightroads]

"The hangover you get after Cinco de Mayo."

Erm, not a helpful answer, is that?

[goodweather]

... Huh.

"It's... a plaster sculpture of... a white face being grasped by large, red and black hands? It's got horns and, uh, a hat made outta... something green, a chessboard ball, and an orange, and... er. A naked, fully tattooed woman riding the top. That's all plaster."

A beat. "I'm not actually sure if it's plaster, but it's got that hand-made, scrappy, badly painted look like it is."

[configuration_birdwatcher]

The phantom gunshot noises emanating from the tall, blindfolded maybe-human without any speakers or firearms in evidence are making them anxious, but they can sympathise with that reaction to being called by the wrong name.

// A sculpture ≤1m tall with a face, red tendrils wrapped around the base, and orange, pink, green, and black-and-white bulbous protrusions, atop a Mexican flag.

They took a stab at it, but they don't have most of the pareidolia responses that humans construct artistic stylisations out of, so they're probably missing a lot that a human would pick up on.

[sictransitgloriamundi]

Not the best place to bury something, is it. Gardens don't go very long without being dug up.

[crushed_pearls]

"Oh now you want to fucking talk to me?" Erin pinches the bridge of her nose. Takes in a deep breath, counts back from ten, and lets it out really slowly.

Zero percent less furious.

"...That's not fair to you, my apologies. This sounds like art, sounds like religious art maybe...hrm. I can't write my answer but..."

The end of that sentence comes after a solid MINUTE of furious internal calculations. "Gonna drop my guess at two point five k, USD, under the rules of the game."

Erin waits to see if her curse is gonna hit her and breathes a sigh of relief when it doesn't.

[not_the_last]

When she hears the name Liz Malloy, Cassandra is expecting to see a passenger she hasn't met yet. When Erin starts to stand, she frowns in some confusion -- and then freezes in her seat when Erin speaks, calm and deadly.

Between dreadful surmise about that name and complete bewilderment about the object the contestants are being asked to price, she stays frozen silent in her seat, feeling like a terrible coward but not sure what she could do differently.

[configuration_birdwatcher]

Bastion makes a loud, deliberate, exasperated sighing noise at the use of their serial number. It's not a secret, exactly, but to be addressed that way reminds them of the war, of orders from their manufacturer and status updates from their fellow troops. Pronouncing it in a simulacrum of a human voice takes significantly longer than the two human names that follow it. They hate this.

They take their place on stage, reminding themself that they chose to participate in this activity as a break from the monotony of their daily routine and should therefore do it properly, and attempt to appraise the... sculpture? Presumably it's a sculpture. It looks poorly made, but maybe that's part of the art.

// €200?

ROUND ELEVEN: WINNER

[sictransitgloriamundi]

El Chamuco is truly priceless, but its mortal form has been given the value of $56,173.46, meaning this round's winner is... [waves hand dismissively] the slaver, I guess.

Re: ROUND ELEVEN: WINNER

[crushed_pearls]

Erin turns to the audience. "If anyone here has ever wanted to kill me I am offering a free ticket."

[1/2]

[mikraitios]

( Castor stands up. )

[2/2]

[nyktifanis]

( yanks him back down in his seat. :) )

[teethoftherisk]

Siffleur laughs from where he's seated himself after his round ended. "It's only fun if you're fighting back."

Re: ROUND ELEVEN: WINNER

[not_the_last]

"Countermanded," snaps Cassandra in ringing tones, from where she's standing up in her seat halfway across the audience.

[crushed_pearls]

"Yes ma'am," Erin snaps to attention without even thinking, startling Severely. She's halfway through a salute when she grabs that hand with her other one and forces it down.

Sheepishly she collects her prize and takes it back to her seat.

[not_the_last]

She ... whatever responses she was expecting, from Erin or anyone else, it wasn't that.

For a moment she's just standing there, one hand still on the hilt of her rapier, adrenaline fizzing and slowly going flat in her veins. Then, with murmured apologies to everyone seated along the way, she starts moving through the audience toward the empty seat where Erin's going.

[uncodlyawwesome]

Eridan absolutely wants to murder this blind chick now, solely because Cassandra's being all up and weird about it!

But he doesn't have anything other than a bottle of Faygo. He contemplates throwing it...

Just kidding, he doesn't contemplate it at all before just chucking a plastic bottle of clown soda at Erin.

[crushed_pearls]

Listen, sometimes, even when you're literally asking to die, you still have a shred of dignity. Erin swats down the bottle of Faygo with an open-handed smack and makes a mental note to find this person later and bully them with Insane Clown Posse references.

[theotherright]

Arthur's just sitting here like. Oh wow okay the lady who went off on him from her moral high horse at Muppets was a slaver? And is now acting like this about it? Okay!! Cool!!!

Very under his breath: "Fine crowd of monsters and criminals you're collecting here."

[ossie_oswald]

Someone clears his throat very loudly from nearby.

"Don't be tacky. Some things oughtn't be discussed in public. Or mentioned flippantly, for that matter."

[astrogator]

[Ari stands too, but it's without any sign of aggression. Instead she just calls out, loudly:]

Is it true?

[crushed_pearls]

Ari's voice makes Erin pause on her way back to the audience. Furious and ashamed.

"It was," Erin answers, before she keeps walking. "Once upon a time."

[millay]

Maeve, for one, looks upset, but her gaze is on the Captain and not Erin. There is a certain hot anger settling in her chest. He should have been kind enough not to be unkind to others. Outing their business to a group of people who don’t have the entire story? Of course he would. She doesn’t know the whole of it and it is startling information, but she’s not mad at Erin. She’s mad at the Captain.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she says after a moment.