#unscripteddiva2022

[einjelique]

Queendom

It was finally time.

Nanna took a deep breath, walking towards the stage with the rest of the girls. No matter how much time they had to practice, Nanna couldn’t stop the nerves from creeping up with every step she took.

“I’m sure we’ll do amazing…” And though she says it loud enough for all of the girls to hear, Nanna knows that she’s mostly trying to reassure herself. Of course she would do all she could! But…what if she forgot a move? Or stepped on someone’s foot? Or—

‘Enough! You’re worrying yourself over nothing!’ She sighs, fiddling with the pink outfit that fit her like a glove. Jeez, they really planned this down to the final detail… I guess that was even more reason to do well considering how much work went into the production.

They’re in place, and Nanna can feel eyes on her before they’ve even begun to dance. Though her practices were poor, she knew that she couldn’t mess it up now— not when everything was leading up to this moment!

( And though she didn’t want any of them to be eliminated, the uncertainty of what would happen afterwards made her want to do her best. )

“Let’s give it our all!”

The music starts.

Roll 3d10. Technique: 11; Choreography: 8; Wow: 3; Total: 57

She moved professionally, almost as if she was a trained dancer— but just like the practice runs, Nanna couldn’t help but notice that she was too focused on perfection yet again, unable to connect to the audience. It was good, but it was missing something: personality.

@amitieos

[aubins]

ENCORE, ENCORE!

Patiently, quietly, Yuri watches the world fall apart.

Their vision blurs — no. The world blurs, pulling itself apart at the seams and crumbling, yet the show continues on as both host and crowd remain ignorant to the collapse of their very existence. The winners are announced with to smiles and cheers as a heavy darkness settles upon the stage. But they see; their companions see.

And Yuri’s eyes narrow because Julian and Delancey see too.

They know, the very moment that everything falls apart and the facade cracks. Nessie’s expression turns horrified, the audience screams. The story has finally gone off script and the pages of the book stutter to a stop before the grand finale, the stage falling from beneath their feet.

Then, the music begins. Everything starts to fall in reverse, time rewinding to a still fractured world. The darkness peers out from between the cracks, allies just out of reach on the other side, and Julian and Delancey singing to the music. The crowd starts to cheer again, the weight of the microphone in their hand replaced with the hilt of their sword.

Was that what this was? Their lives mere chess pieces on a board, all of this just a performance for their entertainment? Anger, sharpened like the point of their blade, pierces their chest. Who are you? they want to demand of their team leaders. What have you been hiding?

Yuri attacks Principe Reese with Brave Sword. ROLL 2D20-4 !   5, 1. Hit! Miss!   (-3HP) Principe Reese counters with Heavy Staff. ROLL 1D20-12 !   -5. Miss!   (-0HP)

The swing of the staff aimed for their head is easy enough to notice, but Yuri does not have time to play games. The Savage Mockingbird rears his head as they duck, sword swung wildly to put space between them and their new foe before they jab, piercing skin. The projectionist has failed again, hasn’t she? This is always how it seems to end. This bloodshed and fighting — it has no place in a story like this.

They have no place in a story like this — and Yuri will cut this book to shreds, if it means it’ll finally spit them back out into Fódlan.

[hresvelged]

hashtag follow

[continued from here]

She takes Delancey’s words as a compliment- She may have no To-witter presence yet, but her name is a staple within the Adrestian Empire. Everyone there knows the next Emperor. “I’m afraid not. To-witter is new to me.”

With the registration screen now open, Edelgard begins to insert her phone number. She does so at a slow speed on the chance she happens to mistype. She can’t imagine what else to make her To-witter user information than the name she dons, and thus, opts to type in @edelgardvonhresvelg. To the point, but at least it’s clear who this account belongs to. That is her desire.

She is perplexed with the sight of an odd nothingness for a ‘profile picture’, hypothesizing that it must be a standard default. Turning back to Delancey, she nods in agreement: “It would look rather.. empty without a visual of myself. Thank you for the assistance.” Taking a good image on her phone evades her, but she will be sure to pick up on it sooner rather than later.

10,000 followers is a hefty number- Enough to make up something of a sizeable army, too. She can see the advantages in having a large following at her very fingertips. If the Imperial Princess can amass a following that size, perhaps it may prove much more useful than she had initially anticipated. “I see.. That’s quite the audience. It’s rather impressive. I expect you’ll be following me back, yes?” There’s a smile of confidence as she speaks, hopeful and wondering.

@amitieos

[zesevral]

Spending time in the common room - Unscripted Diva ask meme

Feel free to use these for some quick interactions in the shared common room. Remember to smile for the cameras!

Send 🍕 to make something in the kitchen with my muse

Send 🎬 to watch a movie with my muse

Send 🎤 for a karaoke battle with my muse

Send 🎮 to play a round of Crash Bros. against my muse

Send 🎧 to listen to some songs on YourTube or speckify

Send 📷 to take some selfies with my muse to post on social media 

Send 😈 to play a prank on my muse

Send 🏠 to be shown my muse’s bedroom

Send 👗 to plot costume designs or play dress up with my muse

[laslow]

Practice Makes Better!

Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, eh? Though the way Julian and Delancey are acting both around and away from each other, there’s clearly something way deeper than just some contest. There’s got to be a story there. 

Regardless. Laslow can’t very well call himself the son of a dancer if he fails even the practice portion of Stairway to Stardom. Nerves are shoved deep, deep down inside him; nearly being strangled to death will do that to a person. He’s starting to get comfortable in this “studio.” All the mirrors lining one wall are such a help. As strange as this world is, their dedication to the arts is a huge upgrade from dancing in a wooded clearing. 

He’s a little less confident in his ability to compete with his voice. Mom taught him some things, and he occasionally finds himself singing a verse or two here and there.

“Alright,” Laslow begins, hands on his hips. “We should first agree on a song.” Eyes land directly on Azama. Now is not the time to be argumentative. 

“Everyone seems to love this group called BZS. Singing one of their songs might help us in the popularity rankings!” Hopefully. 

> starter for: @aubins @carefreemonk

[amitieos]

strictly come dancing

“Don’t give the enemies ideas!” Delancey had chastised her earlier. Elincia paid her no mind, clearly.

She watches like a hawk as Ingrid, Merric and Shez go through the choreography. No matter her warnings, Merric and Shez were her friends. Her students. They were more her people than Delancey could hope to be. Elincia would help them with whatever she could, as both a dear friend and their teacher. 

Even if it felt like pulling teeth.

Merric wasn’t a bad dancer per se, although he lacked his own flair and groove. His movements were so focussed on being correct that they lacked individuality. A chance to show his personality on stage. Perhaps he was just trying to master the choreography before trying to add his own take, they could discuss ideas after. How and where to add dynamics, facial expressions, things to take his dancing from fine to great. Although that would clearly have to wait.

Ingrid and Shez kept colliding with one another, both of them getting the direction wrong in different sections. With limbs failing, Shez lacked any sort of tension or power in his movements and seemed to rush his way through the choreography. On the other hand, Ingrid was as stiff as a board. Her moves were restrained, jerky and slow. A far cry from her grace upon a pegasus, lance in hand. Elincia knew both of them could move well, had seen it with her own eyes. With a weapon in hand the pair were both fluid and controlled. However, with music in the background. They seemed to lose all sense of co-ordination entirely. She had to put a stop to this before someone was hurt.

“Okay, okay stop!” Elincia shouts, stepping forward and turning the music player on the kiwi phone off. “I’m going to need all three of you to separate, to start with. Merric, you’re fine. Room for improvement but you’re doing well enough. I’d like you to run through the choreo again but think a little less.”

The trio quieted and she took a moment to shoot Merric a reassuring smile. He was doing well, he could just do with being a little less calculated. The odd mistake was a worthwhile trade off for a more energetic and personal performance. So long as he didn’t degenerate to the level of his classmates.

“Don’t be scared about making little mistakes, you have this down. Try it with a little more bounce or charm - whatever feels comfortable for you. Dancing isn’t just about movement, it’s about personal expression!” Her shoulders drop as she faces Ingrid and Shez. If they could manage the movements it would be a small miracle. Elincia wasn’t going to give up on them though. Who knows what would happen if one of them was voted off? Would they simply cease to be in this tale? “On the other hand, you two need to get that down first. Then we can build up. You have opposite issues. Ingrid, you’re so stiff it looks like moving is painful for you. Shez, points for enthusiasm but your limbs are all over them. I know you’ve developed muscle control from your training but you need to apply it.”

“Let’s see, shall I go through the first count or two and then let you two have ago? Try to copy me and then I’ll give you some tips and personal help?”

Flicking the music app on her kiwi Phone, Elincia starts playing the music and stands still through the first few beats to create tension. Then she takes herself through the steps, trying not to overcomplicate it. A simple step back on her left foot then swinging the right out. An arc of her right arm as she brings her legs together, bending her knees and waving her hand through four more beats, until her arm was fully extended. Then she turned to her allies.

“Okay, now it’s your turn. Merric, just give me a shout if you need any help.” He was such a gentleman though, would he really feel comfortable interrupting them? Possibly not, she’d have to adjust her teaching methods to include him. It would be easier to keep track of all three of them if they were easily in her field of view, too. “Actually, come over here. You have this polished. Show them how you do it - I want them at your level by the end of today.”

“You’re doing really well, I think what you’re doing is perfectly fine. I do think you have the potential to really shine though, so please forgive me if I push you a little.”

As beautiful as they are, she hopes Ingrid and Shez have some other skills to make their mark in this competition. It looked like dancing was going to be an uphill battle.

@damegalantea, @zesevral or @windsheedme

[carefreemonk]

you can’t sit with us//

“One, two, three—”

A band begins playing behind you. The massive audience before you erupts in perfectly-timed applause, smiling widely at all of you. Some of you have ended up here, sitting under hot lights and with strange contraptions pointed directly at you, following your every move. A trap? But everyone seems to be having a fun time. Everyone, that is, save for the one unfamiliar face in your ragtag group who is looking quite sullen.

“…That interview was a disaster. The quiz show will be even worse…”

It’s a strange thing, waking up somewhere you’ve no recollection of ever having set foot. Like, it would hardly be the first time for ol’ Azama, but something about this particular stage gives even him pause...

But not for long. Clearly they’re in some kind of limelight, and that’s fine by him. He’s taken stock of his surroundings - more or less, indecipherable as they are - and of his outfit - hello Mr. Dashing! - and it doesn’t seem like there’s anything that’s immediately trying to stab or eat him so.

May as well go with the flow.

The very picture of calm and collected, Azama crosses one leg over the other, interlaces his hands, leans back and grins at Julian. 

 "Oh ho! I don't know about a disaster," he chimes in, chipper and nonchalant as always. "It looked more like a miniature apocalypse, if you ask me. But chin up, lad! Trust me, you probably can't do much worse in the next bout."

Julian scoffs, but it's with a small smile. "I suppose. One of the perks of playing the himbo, right?"

Playing the... what. Him-beau? 

A beautiful man? The monk lifts a brow, highly skeptical. 

Naaaah. Azama's much more handsome than this kid, so obviously that isn't what the strange word means. Or is it? Well, just in case, then--

 "Hah! Suppose so! And may the best himbeau win, then." He smirks, and with that the youth loses his interest and Azama turns his attention to the rest of the cast. Vaguely familiar mugs, these ones. Dressed in boring suits, and not saying a peep... 

Oooh, that won’t do, no sirree.

And so he plots.

@aubins @drawingarrows

[damegalantea]

samson

@einjelique

Ingrid’s room was perfect for dance training. It had a large window her kiwi phone could send moving images to, and a full length mirror to boot; with that and Elincia’s help Ingrid was slowly but surely becoming more confident she could perhaps make it through one performance.

But there was only so much training one could do, and as the people running the show had told Ingrid the one time she had gone jogging to not do that again she found herself growing increasingly restless.

Thinking she might at least find a book to read, Ingrid makes her way out to the common area. She finds Nanna sitting in the spot she usually used for her own leisure, but it’s a pleasant sight nonetheless.

“How have you been?” Ingrid says, straightening her outfit and sitting down in the chair across from Nanna. She sees on the table full of magazines there are some tea pastries and candies and her stomach growls despite itself.

“I, er, just got out of training,” Ingrids explains and stuffs a small cake in her mouth before she can make herself more the fool. Chewing slowly, she looks over Nanna and has a thought. Taking out her kiwi phone to place on the table she asks,

“Say, la - Nanna, how do you decide where to place the clips in your hair? I, um, I’m not very good at it yet but I have been looking at pingtourist that Delancey put on my phone and thinking that perhaps my current hairstyle would not be best for the type of dancing we do.” 

[toa-diva]

"Hey! Hey, Julian!" Laslow calls, holding up his little rectangular device. "Care to help a friend out? What is this thing? And what's Snapgram? Delancey keeps talking about it."

Laslow waves around his phone. What is this thing?

Julian raises an eyebrow, “Huh? You’re joking, right? That’s a phone...” Is this guy for real? “You can not have gotten this far in life without hearing about the Kiwi phone.”

[theofficersacademy]

                                             TEAM DIVA

                                          Nanna   Laslow   Yuri                                 Shez (M)   Ingrid   Azama   Elincia                                            Letizia   Edelgard   Merric

STAIRWAY TO STARDOM [ Aug 27-31 ]

Tag: #UnscriptedDiva2022

Your performances conclude. Nessie announces both teams arrivals back on stage, to the audience’s delight. You’re all welcomed back into the spotlight to deafening applause and cheers, fans screaming your names and declaring their love for you. But, of course, only one can move on to the next round...

(Some of you mages would do well to be wary right now. The heavy darkness from last night is back with a vengeance, thick and suffocating.)

“It was close, guys... real close. Blue team hit the round running, but do you think Red team was able to catch up?”

(Even the non-mages can tell something’s up. The dark energy in the air is oppressive now, and your surroundings start to become hazy, glitchy. The lights hitting them in strange ways, stationary things moving erratically within their designated positions. The crowd doesn’t notice. But Delancey and Julian do.)

“Tonight, our winner is... the Red Team!

Which means, Julian, that you’ll have to choose who can stay in your team... and who’s gotta go.”

The stage lights flicker before going dark. You can just make out Nessie’s horrified face as the crowd erupts in screams, and the ground falls out under you.

---

Agarthans. Delancey blinks in the darkness, hands flat against the polished floor. What was that again? 

“Are you alright?” Julian’s voice asks beside her. “The stage fell apart. The world fell apart. We’ve been torn from the pages of our story.”

“How did you know about that?” Memories flood back into Delancey’s mind. That’s right, the book... their protection against them. Agarthans.

They have a sliver of stage left to them. Delancey and Julian share the same shard, standing back to back as they descend further into the unknown. Julian speaks first, “We’re done for. This book’s been torn to pieces. We’ll be...”

“No we’re not,” Delancey insists. “Think, dumbass! This is a peaceful world. Their magic has no place here. This book is supposed to be filled with light, and laughter, and song and dance and...” She trembles in passionate fury. “That’s what this world is made of. The joy and hope music can bring the human soul! If we lose that hope, of course everything’s going to fall apart.

“There’s only one thing we can do...”

---

In the darkness, you hear music in the distance. Bold electric guitars and keyboards start to play one last song.

Your surroundings begin to fall in reverse, as though rewinding itself to where it had been before. Not quite, your world is still fractured and showing the darkness through the cracks, but the pieces are coming together and you can see your friends on the other side. And Delancey and Julian singing their hearts out, in the face of a pale enemy dressed in glittering black robes...

“Finally, the hills are without eyes / They are tired of painting a dead man’s face red / With their own blood...”

Your audience had been stunned to silence. But with your team leaders taking the stage and setting a shining example, they return to their usual cheers. Thousands of small fuchsia lights brighten your dark surroundings like brilliant stars.

The microphones in your hands become your trusted weapons. Magic flows through your veins again.

"Did you ever hear what I told you? Did you ever read what I wrote you? Did you ever listen to what we played? Did you ever let in what the world said? Did we get this far just to feel your hate? Did we play to become only pawns in the game? How blind can you be, don't you see? You chose the long road but we'll be waiting...!”

Things to do:

Fight to ascend the Stairway to Stardom!

Jam tf out to Nightwish’s Bye Bye Beautiful while you wait for the combat doc, which will be finished & posted in the evening. Teams will be split into 2 (defaulted to A & B team settings).

Ask Mod Bren abt additional questions or information.

[drawingarrows]

the art of snapgram

The moment they arrive at their living quarters, Ignatz retreats to one of the bedrooms. He’s not even sure if it’s his, but he needs to get away from everything. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he finds solace in the mostly empty room. It’s much more peaceful than the set or the strange carriage they rode in. 

The presence of an object in his pocket doesn't go unnoticed. Now that he has time, he decides to take it out and inspect it. After a bit of fiddling with the device, a bright rectangle appears. He recalls seeing Julian touching the rectangle on his personal device and tries the same with his. Like magic, it reacts to his touch, the screen changing before his eyes.

It takes a while, but Ignatz starts to understand how the object operates. With his index finger, he taps a square with a symbol he doesn't recognize. The screen changes, and he is once again left scratching his head. “Username”? The name of the user? Well, he is the user, so Ignatz taps the corresponding letters to his name. Next is the password...After a few tries, he comes up with something that is deemed satisfactory. Once he presses enter, however, red words appear saying “Ignatz” is taken. “IgnatzVictor” is also taken. He adds 314 which is accepted and is finally granted access. 

Ignatz sets up his “account,” figuring it out as he goes. When prompted to select topics he is interested in, he chooses art and randomly chooses the rest. Images appear of art with colors he has never seen and odd unrealistically portrayed subjects. Why do they paint the eyes so large he wonders. There are also images of scantily clad women to which he becomes very flustered and puts the object down onto the bed. He says a quick prayer to the goddess before taking a nap.

[einjelique]

continued from [ here ]

Nanna sat down on the couch and made herself comfortable, nodding as Azama pressed play. She had no clue what a movie really was— but from her unlimited resources ‘online’ (what a wonderful tool!), she had learned that it was similar to moving pictures, not unlike the show they would be on.

It begins, and she’s still trying to grasp how horror can possibly translate off the pages of a novel— and it doesn’t take long. Each sudden noise makes her jump, trying her best to stifle her cries. “P— people watch this sort of thing for fun…?”

@carefreemonk

[aubins]

JUST DANCE 1180

Just for today, Yuri plays the part of a ghost once again.

It is no different from any other day in this strange, new world. They smile the same, laugh the same, speak the same, but they drift through time aimlessly. The ever - present weight of being watched remains draped around their shoulders, closed around their throat. It’s pretty little cage and they’ve all been made up inside of it to be pranced around for another’s enjoyment.

Everything is too tight. Their smiles are too tight, their words are too clipped. Even their skin squeezes them like it wishes to banish their soul from their body. The feeling neither changes nor abates, even as they step out into the spotlight alongside their companions, strolling right into a den of wolves.

They should be no stranger to wolves, when their own teeth are so often bared, but their throat constricts as the music begins. You are a child again. Your skin is no longer your own again. You are a thing, a doll, and they are staring again and again and again.

ROLL 3D10 ! TECHNIQUE: 3, CHOREOGRAPHY: 11, WOW FACTOR: 10. TOTAL !  140 POINTS

Yuri moves on instinct as the beginning of the song plays, but something lodges itself in their throat. Their voice escapes as a quiet, choked noise even as their expression remains carefully composed. They know how to act, how to compensate for the things they cannot give. Loud, flashy, bright — these are all things they can do, in their movements when their voice does not work.

It’s just pretending, and Yuri has lived through enough lives that were not their own to practice being someone else.

TAG !  @carefreemonk

[einjelique]

The other girls begin to dance, and well…it would feel a bit out of place if she just stood and watched. Though she tried her best to match their movements, Nanna moved robotically rather than with grace.

Roll 3d10: Technique: 6; Choreography: 3; Wow: 1

“I’m…so sorry.” She sighs, avoiding any and all eye contact with the rest of her team. “I still need quite a bit of practice— I have yet to even get used to ballroom dancing, and this is definitely much more complex.”

The idea of food made her stomach growl, causing her face to flush crimson. “You’re right— there’s no point in us working on an empty stomach!” She claps her hands together, turning to Letizia and Edelgard with a twinkle in her eye. “And then we can listen to your rap!”

The Princess was not as naive as some may assume— while the girls were mostly supportive of one another, she couldn’t help but sense a bit of tension in the group. Hopefully it would fade over time…

GIRLS PLANET 999.

amitieos​:

“Oh, I’ll join in too! I love dancing,” Elincia grins, rising to her feet. For a moment, she feels like the world is spinning beneath her feet, but she ignores the strange sensation and instead follows along with the choreography Edelgard and Ingrid perform. A terrible mistake. “I’m… usually a lot better than this.”

(Roll 3d10: Technique: 4, Choreography: 5, Wow: 2)

There’s a frown evident on her face as she sits back down only halfway through the steps. Before she hurts herself, or even worse, someone else. Elincia reaches for the bottle and tries to see the bright side. She knows she can do better than this - after all, she had won the White Heron Cup just a couple of moons ago.

“Not to make excuses but I feel a little light-headed,” she informs the group, fidgeting with the bottle cap in her hands. Suddenly her stomach rumbles, like thunder crashing through the practice room. Cheeks blaze crimson but she laughs, feeling a flood of relief. Maybe she just wasn’t feeling her best after all. “I’m fairly confident in my singing Ingrid, and with my dancing. On a full stomach. Perhaps we should take a break for lunch soon?”

“Your dancing has come a long way, Ingrid. I can see how hard you must be working, to improve so quickly.” She can’t help but beam with pride at the young Lion. A couple of days ago, Ingrid could barely dance without somehow entangling her limbs. Now, she dances far more confidently, with the grace that was often evident when she fought in battle. There is room to improve but Ingrid certainly wouldn’t be standing out for all the wrong reasons on stage. “I bet with a little more practice you’ll be putting us all to shame. Or we could focus on some vocal practice, if you think that will help more?”

Then she turns to Letizia and Edelgard, face eager and bright.

“I would like to see this ‘rapping’ for myself. If it requires confidence and oratory skills, I’m sure you’ll both… hmm, what was the word Delancey used? Slaughter it on stage!”

@diryrja​

Trying to go as unnoticed as humanly possible, Letizia mimics the movements of the other girls while their attention is trained elsewhere. She winces as she catches her reflection in the mirrors lining the far wall. At a cursory glance, perhaps it would not be too bad… if she had any idea what she was doing. I’d be laughed off the stage with this…

ROLL 3d10: Technique: 8; Choreography: 1; Wow: 5

Letizia becomes acutely aware of a pang in her stomach as Elincia speaks. Well, perhaps I am just hungry, too… After all, there has not been a task I couldn’t do yet…

The Crimean princess turns to bright eyes towards her and Edelgard and Letizia can’t help but be caught by surprise. Why on earth does she expect so much from them now? And she had seemed so confrontational towards the Director just moments ago, what had caused her to change so suddenly? 

Letizia clears her throat. Perhaps she wanted to see Letizia humiliated. “All of a sudden? W … well, I have not anything prepared, but I hear it to be similar to reciting a poem. …Why don’t we all eat first? I’m sure we would perform much better with some more energy!”

[zesevral]

Nanna, Nanna, Nanna, Na, Na ♪

Shez was lounging in the joint common room, headphones on as he listened to a song he'd found browsing YourTube. He hadn't been certain how the whole 'Dance' part of this competition was going to go when they'd first been told about it. But having had some good old practise time with his Professor and teammates, the purple haired teen was feeling better about the prospect. Excited even.

Everyone else had broken off to do their own thing so Shez was feeling a bit bored. The upbeat tune was making him want to move his body, feel the rhythm of the beats. Catapulting his legs in the air, he sprung to his feet. Cranking up the volume a notch be begun moving his limbs along to the music, eyes closed. What was it Professor Elincia had said to him.

'try and match the intensity of the music'

Taking her advice to heart, he moved energetically leaping around the furniture.

Roll: 3d10 Technique: 9; Choreography: 8; Wow factor: 6

It felt good, the moves flowed well. However there was something missing, that little je ne sais quoi which would blow the audience's mind. That's what he had to find.

Opening his eyes, he saw someone else had entered the room, one of the ladies from the other team. Shez wondered how much they'd seen. "Hey Nanna" he greeted removing the headphones. "How's practise going?"

@einjelique

[laslow]

Lights, Camera, Disaster!

Well. This is certainly new. 

Laslow was sure he’d seen it all when it comes to magical-and-or-draconic interference, but this takes the cake. Damn, what he wouldn’t give for some lemon cake with chocolate frosting to settle his nerves. 

Ever since he opened his eyes, everything has been an assault on the senses. The garish lights overhead, the discomfort of his (thankfully) slate blue suit. Nothing like the utter horror of Azama’s outfit, though knowing him, he probably wanted it that way. 

Dancer rubs his eyes. He shifts a little in his seat, desperate for some cool air. Oh, Naga. Attention lands on the gigantic…projection of their pictures behind their row of chairs. Their names glow cheerily below a picture Laslow does not remember taking—at least they got his good side! 

Voices pull him away from his examination. Azama, as usual, running his mouth. So there was a disaster, huh? Not surprising, given that they quite literally blinked and were transported to…wherever they are. Laslow tunes out the current conversation, again risking a glance around to find an incredibly irritated woman behind the stage. That won’t do at all! 

Dazzling smile in place, he plants his hands on the armrests, leather creaking at the motion. He begins to stand, and as if he’d triggered some kind of trap, the woman snaps her head up. A glare to end all glares sets her considerably lovely features into stone. Chastised from ten feet away, Laslow settles back into his seat. 

“Tough crowd, eh?” He leans over, whispering to Merric. 

>baton pass! @windsheedme , @zesevral