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Snow King and Queen Pageant~!
Topic Started: Sep 5 2011, 03:19 PM (992 Views)
Alma
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Ian Fairholm<br>
<br>
Date: Saturday, Winter 7th, 09 ;; 10am<br>
Mood: Composed.<br>
Wearing: Clicky~[/align]<br>
<br>

The one grand thing about this entire experience, Ian reflected, was that it was held indoors with remote heaters pumping all over the place. The building was as warm and cozy as a firelit living room, and he fancied that by the time the pageant was over the entire captive audience would be sweating from their combined body heat and the pumped-in warmth. At the moment, however, he felt entirely comfortable when he emerged from the stage after the introductory period. One could only work near blazing fires for so long before one could become used to any degree of extremely high temperature.<br>
<br>
Without any apparent degree of modesty, Ian stripped the warm black sweater from his muscular frame before he'd even reached the vanities, and he draped it over the back of his chair once he reached them. He twisted this way and that in front of the lit mirror with a frown to make sure that he had indeed scrubbed all of the soot of the previous day off of him before arriving. There. His skin was clean. Fantastic. He rummaged in his bag for his swim trunks before heading toward one of the changing rooms with a stoic face that didn't once turn to look at any of the other contestants.<br>
<br>
These people weren't competition to him. That would imply that he had something invested in this event that he could possibly lose. No, everything about this was for the sake of advertising, and win or lose he had the distinct feeling that he was going to emerge from this competition with at least one additional customer, even if that customer only approached the forge with the intent of seeing him without a shirt. He paused in front of the mirror in the changing booth and scanned over his torso. Well. If he was going to sell out to advertise for the sake of his well-being and spreading his creations all over the island, then he might as well play up his appearance, right? Screw the fact that he was turning forty next year. He looked better than men half his age on this island. With that in mind, he calmly divested himself of the rest of his clothing and slid on his swim trunks.<br>
<br>
While on the subject, screw being creative for the sake of the pageant's title. As he emerged from the changing booth, barefoot and in his simple black trunks with a white stripe down the side, he cast a look over the individuals running around in swimsuits that reflected their desire to be the Snow King or Snow Queen and could do little more but shake his head with a smirk. All of that bowing and scraping would get them nowhere. "Ian Fairholm?"<br>
<Br>
"Hmm?" he grunted as he paused in front of the vanities again and flicked a chunk or two of hair out of his eyes.<br>
<br>
"You're, uh, wanted on stage next."<bR>
<Br>
"Of course." And then he reached into his bag and pulled out the essential advertising item for this round, namely a prop. As he heaved the large hammer into his hands, the head itself emblazoned with the words "FAIRHOLM FORGE" Ian passed the stagehands as if it was a perfectly normal occurrence to carry a sledgehammer onto the stage of a pageant.<br>
<br>
He strolled through the curtains when a stagehand parted them for him and painted a perfectly stoic expression on his face. The sharp angles and hollows of his face were only emphasized by the clean, lanky strands of jet black hair nestled against them, his blue eyes piercing out toward a direct spot on the far wall. He ignored any and all people that might be watching him, focusing only on the solid weight of the hammer in his hands that made his arm muscles flex all the more and silently hoping that there wasn't a single damn splinter for him to step on, lest he accidentally take out the Mayor if his prop went flying. At the very end of the stage he came to a stop and heaved the hammer over his shoulders, one hand resting on the wooden handle while the other draped along the hammer's head and drew attention to the name of his forge carved into it. After shifting from one foot to the other, each time driving his chiseled hips outward as if they were trying to stab out the eyeballs of the judges, he turned and made his way back down the walkway.<br>
<br>
The instant he slid through the curtains again, he exhaled and made his way back toward his duffel bag for his next change of clothes. One dignity-shattering part of the pageant down. Only a few more to go.


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William Goodrick<br>
Date: Saturday, Winter 7th, 09 || 10am<br>
Mood: Awkward.<br>
Wearing: Clicky~[/align]<br><br>


In hindsight, William thought, he probably should have tried on his swimsuit before heading straight out the door and to the pageant. He hadn't worn it in a number of years, not even on the cruise he went on a short few seasons ago, and the last time he had he'd followed it by changing up his clothes washing style in such a way that left him without his favorite sweaters once they shrank just enough to make him look like a child when he wore them. As he stood in the changing booth and eyed himself with a degree of horror, he realized that his sweaters weren't the only part of his wardrobe to be affected by that one disastrous washing change.<br>
<br>
"I look...twelve," he mused. In fact, his voice even deigned to crack on that last word, as if the Harvest Goddess was swimming in the air above his booth with a devilish grin painted across her face. His lanky figure was only emphasized by the too-small camo green swim trunks that he wore, pointing out every awkward curve of his super skinny torso. His pectorals were emphasized slightly as well, yes, but as he twisted this way and that he realized that they looked more like underdeveloped breasts than anything else. Add into that his jagged calves, his skinny arms with only hints of muscle definition, and his overly large feet, and William was left thinking that he should probably lock the door of the booth and never come out.<bR>
<br>
"Uh, Mr. Goodrick? Are you in there?" a stage hand called as they knocked gently on the door.<br>
<br>
He flailed away from it and pressed himself against the back wall, staring at the door in horror. "N-no! No, I'm not ready!"<br>
<br>
There was a long silence before the disembodied voice chuckled. "Well, pardon me for saying it, but you're about to get disqualified from this whole competition if you don't get out here. Come on, all you've gotta do is pull on some trunks, right? What's so hard about that?"<br>
<br>
"Nothing!"<br>
<br>
"Mr. William, please!" This stagehand was female and left William's cheeks coloring in terror. "You're going to hold up the show! We need you on stage in eta thirty seconds!"<br>
<br>
Oh Goddess, he was trapped. He had the distinct feeling that they were going to pry the entire door off of the booth if he didn't come out on his own. And so, feeling more like a hostage than anything else, he leaned forward and flicked the lock open on the booth. The two stagehands pulled it open and, to his horror, the female one was the person who took him carefully by the forearm and began dragging him toward the stage. He recognized her as someone he'd formerly worked beside at the zoo during one of those rare times that he kept a job for more than a season and suddenly wasn't surprised as to why she was taking charge. "Okay, okay, I'm going, Meredith! Let me go!"<br>
<br>
She was too much of a jerk for that, of course, and so she let him proceed before her to the stage before she nudged him through the curtains, which had him stumbling onto the stage and inwardly cursing. But he was already moving. He might as well keep walking. Gulping down his trepidation, he awkwardly smiled at the crowd, every one of his movements sheepish, and strolled down the way to the beat of the holiday music playing overhead. Okay. This wasn't so bad. He could do this. In his nervousness he didn't even pause at the end of the stage. He simply made a loop and kept walking all the way back to the curtain.<br>
<br>
Next time, he decided, would be much easier, if only because it meant he didn't have to worry about being half-naked in front of an audience of primarily women.


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Alma
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<br>
When the last contestant disappeared behind the curtains, the Mayor climbed the stage to lead the audience in a boisterous round of applause once more. "All right! Good showing by everyone! I wouldn't be surprised if this was the best showing we've ever had." He grinned at everyone as he strolled to the edge of the stage. "Next, in the spirit of the balls and parties that are planned for the Christmas season, we have our Formal category! Enjoy!"<br>
<br>
<hr>
<br>
<br>
You may now begin your Formal stage posts~ This round will be open until September 16th at 11:59pm CST, and the Winter Fashion round will begin right after that. Remember, if you missed the Swimsuit post opening you can still post it, but the judges have permission to consider that when making their decisions.


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Kel94 ♪
This looks like a job for....
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Buchi Tei
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Outfit
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Mood: Excited
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Tag: Open
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Round: Formal Wear
<br>
Winter 7th09<br></font><br>
10:00 AM</div>
<br><br>
It felt so strange, being in a suit. How could anyone stand to wear one of these? He could barely walk in it, much less even thing about running. And the tie felt god awful at his neck, like a snake trying to choke him. Thus, Buchi kept tugging at it, trying to loosen it a bit so it wouldn't feel terrible. And these shoes were so....bleh! He preferred some slippers, or at least some good 'ol fashioned sneakers. But he had to wear this stuff, at least for a little while. At least he wasn't one of the girls, who were in their dressing rooms trying to make themselves look amazing.
<p>
The only thing he really did was put on some cologne (though he doubted anyone would smell it), and brushed down his hair. If he had more time, he could washed his head real quick to make his hair really smooth down, but a good brushing worked too. Besides, his name was being called, so now for round two!
<p>
A few short moments later, Buchi emerged from behind the curtain, strolling down the catwalk at a pace to where everyone could see just how dashing he looked. 'Take a picture, it'll last longer' he thought, knowing that this would be the last time in a long while before he ever dressed his fancy again. Probably not until his wedding day or something (the chances of that day existing was looking pretty slim at the moment). Too bad it wasn't an extended round of the swimsuits. A lot of people sure did like seeing him without his shirt on......Buchi still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
<p>
But it did show that he could clean up nicely, right? That's what he was thinking as he greeted the judges once more, giving them a more gentlemanly bow. Before leaving, he told them they all looked good, and were very kind for being the judges today. Sure, maybe a little butt kissing wouldn't get him anywhere, but perhaps it would make up in brownie points?
<p>
Two rounds down, only two more to go. He could do this!

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"Divine" Betha Fandell and Karma Ridgeway
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Outfit
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Mood: Nervous // Chill
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Tag: Open, Karma
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Round: Formal
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Winter 7th09<br></font><br>
10:00 AM</div>
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"Ah Divy, is it wrong that I feel like a mother, getting her daughter ready for their first date? Or school dance?" Karma asked Divine while applying her make-up. She didn't reply, keeping her eyes closed as her friend put on her eyeshadow. "I saw you out there, sis, and you looked amazing. And now here I am, loving big brother Karma, to make you look even more fabulous~" he went on, moving on to attach earrings to her...ears. "Okay beautiful, you can look now" Karma finished, moving away from the mirror so she could look at herself.
<p>
Divine opened her eyes, and gasped. She...damn, she did look good. Kinda unreal, but when was the last time someone had ever spent a lot of time trying to pretty her up? Well, if she looked this good in the mirror, Divine would probably look just as good out on the runway. Grabbing her clutch, Divine made her way out of the little room, past her friends, and too the curtain. Betha Fandell was called out to the stage again, so why keep them waiting?
<p>
Divine actually felt more confident this time, her hair pulled back so everyone could see her face and jewelry. She heard plenty of whistles and cat calls from in the crowd, and she mentally pictures those guys getting the living crap beaten out of them by her brother and the guys. This caused a smile to show upon her face, and a small cheer rippled through the crowd. What, did she not smile enough or something? Well whatever, she did she wanted to.
<p>
Her smile turned into more of a smirk, which was still present as she reached the judges table. Divine just nodded to them again, still wondering if they were at least appeased by outfit. Hmf, if she had more friends, Divine totally would have worn this to any fancy dinner parties that they might possibly hold.
But since the guys were pretty much poor, and weren't those kind of people, she'd at least something nice to wear for whatever occasion presented itself.
<p>
Now, time to go pull on her winter fashion outfit. She wanted to see how good that beret of hers looked on her head...
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People say you've been talking, you got a big mouth. Saying words you know aren't true, what the hell are you talking about? So now we have a conundrum, and the problem is clearly you. This is the part where it gets ugly, and the solution getting rid of you. You'll never be safe in the shadows, I'll be waiting in the dark. With a shovel and a bag full of lime, and I'll say the devil made me do it.
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Greek
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Winter 7, Year 9
Time: 10 am-ish
Tag: Catherine Wolfe

"It's lovely," Iphi said. It was obvious to her that much care was put into the university and it paid off.

Shortly thereafter the Mayor announced the Swimsuit portion of the pageant. Iphi watched all the contestants go down the runway, taking mental notes on all of their performances. For the most part many of them did very a well. A few seemed nervous but then again it is hard to be put on the spotlight, even without wearing a swimsuit.

Once everyone had gone through the Mayor came back up on stage and announced the next portion of the pageant. Excitement bubbled up inside her. While she didn't know much about formal fashion it would be interesting to see what sort of outfits everyone will come up with. Iphi took advantage of the lull to get another cup of coffee and continue her conversation with Catherine.

"Are you enjoying the pageant so far?" She asked.

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Ashleigh825
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Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight
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Date: Winter 7, 09; 10:00am<br>
Round: Formalwear<br>
Mood: Nervous, still a little sick<br>
Tag: Open<br><br>[/align]

Thank Goddess! Someone had finally turned on the heaters in this place! While thankful that she wouldn’t have to freeze through the rest of this, she wished someone had thought to heat up the place for the swimsuit round. Probably a volunteer playing a practical joke or something, she was sure of it. Kimberly still hadn’t seen her roommate in all this chaos, but at least she knew he hadn’t ditched her and gone home, because she’d heard his name being called in the last round and people applauding for him. She’d felt too sick to peek her head out to take a look, though. She’d rather not take a good look at the audience and really see just how many people were out there watching her right now.
<br><br>
“Okay, formalwear, everyone! Quickly now!” a volunteer ran backstage, shouting at the contestants and Kimberly scrambled in her bag to get out her things. Admittedly, she did love the outfit she had picked out for herself for this round, but there was a big difference between getting dressed up to go out someplace with a couple of friends and getting dressed up to go on stage underneath a glaring spotlight and the scrutiny of a crowd of strangers and a panel of judges.
<br><br>
At least I’m not in a bathing suit this time, the priestess reasoned with herself as she hurriedly pulled on her flowing white gown and struggled with her high-heeled pearl shoes. She quickly pulled her hair up so it piled loosely on top of her head, a few ringlets falling down past her shoulders. It was held in place by a white flower pin that matched the rest of her outfit. Thanking the Goddess that she’d had the sense to save time by doing her makeup at home, Kimberly swapped her pentacle for a glittering snowflake necklace and matching earrings, tucking the pentacle lovingly into the front pouch of her bag. That pentacle was so comforting. She wished she could wear it for this round, but pentacles and snowflakes just didn’t go together as well as a matching jewellery set did.
<br><br>
She heard her name being called again and quickly threw her see-through white shawl over her shoulders, grabbing her little clutch-purse as she walked out. Better just get through the rest of this, smile, and then forget about it. It’s not like I have a hope of winning this, anyway, she reasoned with herself, perfectly fine with walking away without a crown that day as long as she didn’t do anything to humiliate herself. That was her only goal today.
<br><br>
As before, Kimberly walked out with another smile, giving a small wave to the audience and judges before slipping her shawl off her shoulders and turning around to actually show off the ensemble. Don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip… she kept mentally coaching herself, deliberately taking very careful steps in her heeled shoes.
<br><br>
And another round done, she sighed with relief once she was safely behind the curtain again, immediately rushing to her bag to take off her snowflake necklace and replace it with her pentacle again.



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Alison Summers ♪
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All Hail the Crimson King
Mayor
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<br>Alison Summers<br>
<br>Round: Arrival
<br>Date: Winter 7, 09 10:00 am
<br>Mood: Nervous, Frantic
<br>Tag: Open

<br>
<br><br>'Formal wear.' The very thought of the words almost made Alison laugh. So foreign was the idea to her that she really couldn’t help it. 'When have I ever worn something so gaudy out around town?' The thought made her halt her preparations and for a moment as she realized how out of place she actually felt at this competition. 'Seamus would probably die laughing if he saw me in this thing...mother on the other hand would probably just die.' Fortunately she would never have to suffer through that embarrassment.
<br><br>
Alison had never really been the type to parade herself around in fancy dresses but she supposed concessions had to be made for the sake of competition. When you compete you should plan on winning. However, it would be nice if she could actually hit upon what had possessed her to sign herself up for such an outlandish competition. She didn't know the first thing about modeling and if the judges had any sense they would see right through the fancy image she was trying to put off.
<br><br>
She still had a show to put on though so those doubts would have to wait. She had to finish getting ready for the next stage of competition or she would lose for sure and I anything her pride alone would not allow her to give up so easily especially after she had caught the look from the blond girl as she exited the stage last time. 'Well she can give all the mocking little looks she wants. We'll see who's laughing when I wipe the floor with her in this competition.'
<br><br>
Alison got her spot in line and waited for her name to be called as other contestants scurried around her. In her mind she prepared herself to dazzle the crowd once more. The first time she had walked the people had seen cute, playful Alison all smiles and sweetness. Now they would see Alison the vixen full of passion and power and fierceness.
<br><br>
Suddenly there it was, her name called out again over the speakers, and without another thought she shot from the curtain and out onto the walkway. For one so unfamiliar with the concept of formal wear the redhead wore the dress well. Even Alison had to admit she looked quiet stunning in the white satin v-neck gown that was lined with tiny clear crystals along the top and bottom. The crystals made the dress sparkle whenever it caught the stage lights giving her a kind of glow. The icicle earrings she was wearing felt nearly as foreign to her as the white gown but they only added to the ensemble which she was pulling off very successfully.
<br><br>
The heels she had bought did give her a bit it trouble however. Sure they went great with her dress and were in keeping with the theme but she had never really liked walking in heels preferring instead to have a comfortable set of flats. Still, she had good balance and as she walked down the run way she didn't any problems making her way to the judges table where the real people she was trying to impress waited.
<br><br>
It was funny but cheers had started even before she had gotten on the stage. 'Well at least I've got a few fans.' She thought and that gave her a little more confidence as she strode forward. She reached the end of the runway and paused to strike another pose for the judges. A fierce pose, a strong pose, a pose that she held for a moment just to get the effect before spinning around to walk back down the runway. ’There, now that wasn't that bad. At least now she could get out of this dress.’

<br><br><br>

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Greek
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Villagers
Round: Winter Formal Wear
Date: Winter 7, Year 9
Time: 10 AM
Tag: Open

Where is she? Zeharah flittered about backstage, trying to look in every direction at once. Zareen was supposed to have brought her her formal dress by now. Did something happen? Zeharah could never live with herself if her sweet, little sister got into trouble all because of some dress.

"Zareen!" Zeharah called, a few workers glanced at her and a few even came over and asked what was going on. "It's my little sister." She explained. "She was supposed to bring me my dress for the winter formal section. Has anyone seen her? She's short, green eyes, blond hair?"

"No, ma'am. We haven't seen her." A male worker said.

"And you're supposed to be going on soon." The other worker said. "Do you have anything at all?"

"I'll find something," Zeharah said, frowning. "But if you see her please send her to me right away," She added. The two workers nodded and went back to their various tasks.

I didn't think I would have to turn to this.

As discretely as possible Zeharah casually looked around the many vanities and dressing rooms. A few things popped out at her. A while dress with a charming v-neck cut and thin straps. An icy blue scarf that appeared to be a rejected ensemble piece. What else? Zeharah picked up all of these items and treated them as if they always belong to her. So far what she has is a little too simple, and she needed shoes.

There, on one of the end vanities were a collection of cheap gold painted bangles and a thin gold painted necklace. Snatching those up she ran back to the dressing rooms but could not find a pilfer-able pair of shoes.

"Miss Zeharah!" A worker came up to her, a schedule in hand. "You were supposed to be on stage three minutes ago!"

"Give me one second," Zeharah smiled and darted into the closest, open changing room. Rapidly changing from her clothes to the knee length dress. With the thin scarf she tied it loosely around her neck to make it look like a choker and let the long strands trail behind her back. Then she shoved the bangles on and added the necklace as she rushed out of the changing room.

On the way to the stage she let her hair out of the ponytail it was in for her swimsuit look. The wild hair cascaded down her back and her hands went to work combing through it to take out any tangles that may have snuck in. Now, for one quick stop at a vanity to fix anything else that might be wrong. It was simple, both ensemble and hair, but presentable.

Running to the curtain she paused to catch her breath, then walked out like nothing was ever wrong.

This time, she'll rock that stage with her confidence. A gaze of fierce determination covered her face. Hair and scarf twirling behind her as she walked bare-foot across the stage. Will that cost her? Most likely, but for now she won't even glance at that trifling annoyance. Right now she is an Arabian lioness, a proud huntress.

There's the end of the stage. Pause, pose seductively for the audience, and turn with a wink. As she passed the judges she gave another pose for them. This time performing something more graceful than seductive. All in all the two female judges would not be impressed by any sultry look she could give.

Back behind the curtain Zeharah let out a heavy sigh and went straight to searching for her dear sister.
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[align=center]WINTER FASHION[/align]<br>
<br>
The Mayor appeared behind the curtains in the midst of the applause for the last contestant, a large smile on his face. "Fantastic showing by all!" He made his way to the front of the stage, as he was wont to do. "Our next round is our Winter Fashion category! Enjoy!" And he disappeared behind the curtains again, the record player shifting to a different range of songs.<br>
<br>
<hr>
<br>
<br>
You may now begin your Winter Fashion stage posts~ This round will be open until September 20th at 11:59pm CST, and the Talent round will begin right after that. Feel free to play with this round and to be as creative as possible, as the title is rather vague for a reason.


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((NOTE: These are my Formal posts, late due to my overheated computer last night))

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Ian Fairholm<br>
<br>
Date: Saturday, Winter 7th, 09 ;; 10am<br>
Mood: Composed.<br>
Wearing: Clicky~[/align]<br>
<br>

Prop One was a success, Ian decided as he descended the stairs behind the curtain. At least the hammer didn't fly out of his hands and strike one of the judges, right? He placed it carefully beside his claimed vanity chair before he picked up his hanging formal attire and grabbed a pair of black socks out of his bag and headed toward the changing booths in the back.<br>
<br>
As he set to changing clothes, he reflected on what Vivienne would say if she could see him now. He smirked and shook his head. The girl seemed to get her jollies from implying that Ian never took any pride in his appearance, that he needed to do more to look clean and presentable, that whoever he was as a person just wasn't bloody enough for her in the first place. But as he grabbed hold of the cotton shirt, rubbing the remarkably smooth material between his fingers with a quirked brow, he had the distinct feeling that she would be positively flabbergasted if she saw him during this next round.<br>
<br>
He shook his head as he tugged on his black formal pants, conscious of the limited time that he had to move now. It didn't matter what the girl thought about him. She was an employee, not a friend. The rather bitter thought gave him pause for a moment before he reached for his undershirt next. No, that...wasn't entirely true, he supposed. She stood there in his forge when no one else would. She took the crap that he threw at her and gladly stood toe-to-toe with him when he was getting a little too big for his britches. She'd shown a degree of loyalty...but what had he ever showed her?<br>
<br>
Good God, he was getting sentimental. He sneered as he pulled on his long-sleeved white collared shirt, popping the collar more for comedy's sake than anything else, and secured the black vest moments later. He actually looked...pleasant. That much was unexpected, for sure. He shook his head with a quiet laugh as he pulled on his shoes last of all before he slid out of the changing booth and made his way toward the stage. As he passed the vanity he picked up a handkerchief lying on top of his bag and examined it. Neat blue stitches declared it to be the property of "Fairholm Forge." Perfect.<br>
<br>
A stroll down the runway took little time at all compared to how long it took him to actually pull this outfit on, he decided. As his shoes clapped against the platform in time to the beat of the music he kept his chin high with a faint amused smile quirking at his lips. This was just too much. He paused at the end of the runway and tugged the handkerchief out, the title on it displayed to all, and dabbed at his throat. Just a second of pausing was all it took before he turned and moseyed on down the runway again, his head turning with the things he would have to do to prepare for his talent round.


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William Goodrick<br>
Date: Saturday, Winter 7th, 09 || 10am<br>
Mood: Awkward.<br>
Wearing: Clicky~[/align]<br><br>


There was absolutely no way in the world that William was wearing that tuxedo again, he decided. Last time he wore it he'd broken his glasses right down the middle, making him blind until he somehow managed to locate his spare pair in his house. The only fine thing about that night was that he was able to spend it with Miss Irene Praskovya, of course, but...he was still superstitious, to a degree. Call it him being a product of Ocean of Stars. The natives here all seemed to hold a small sense of superstition about one thing or another. For William? It revolved around his clothes.<br>
<br>
He'd tugged out one of his extremely old outfits, one he hadn't worn since making the lecture circuit through England, and dusted it off. He'd even gone so far as to iron the shirt the night before to make it look pressed, clean, and presentable. He was looking forward to don it, though, to be fair, anything to get him out of this pathetic swimsuit was enough for him. He grabbed the outfit on his hurried way back in from the stage and immediately locked himself in a changing booth again.<br>
<br>
The shirt was as baggy as he remembered, maybe even less so due to the fact that he was eating less now with his unemployment. He shifted the sleeves this way and that, trying to find a way to keep them from billowing on his arms so unattractively, but really, there was no doing. It would have to stand as it was. He sighed and flipped some of his hair away from his eyes before he donned his brown pants and vest next. The last was his bowtie. He tugged it around his neck and expertly began to tie it, eyes focused on a distant part of the booth.<br>
<br>
Why was he doing this again? Did he really think that he was going to get any money for this? Highly doubtful, to say the least. But he was here. Maybe they'd pity him and give him a consolation prize for being the dorkiest man in the entire competition. Actually, that sounded far more likely than him winning anything for real, he reflected with lifted brows.<br>
<br>
Hope renewed and shoes donned, he strolled toward the stage full of purpose and confidence. It only lasted until his feet actually hit the runway, of course, and reminded him that there was a giant audience of people here to watch him, but fie on that. He gulped and made his rounds, trying not to be so tense that he walked awkwardly than his gangly form already afforded. By the time that he disappeared behind the stage he about fell over. Well then. That was...oh Goddess, the talent stage was next! He thudded his head against his hands and headed off to make his preparations.


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Kel94 ♪
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Buchi Tei
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Outfit
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Mood: Excited
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Tag: Open
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Round: Winter Fashion
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Winter 7th09<br></font><br>
10:00 AM</div>
<br><br>
Alright, round three! Winter fashion....Buchi hoped his outfit would be....acceptable. It was more Christmas colored, but Christmas came in the winter time, so hopefully the judges would be okay with that. At least wearing this outfit would keep him warm should he ever wear this out on the street. Well, wouldn't be long before it was his turn again! And hopefully Korai would arrive soon with their stuff for the talent portion....which was next.
<p>
"Buchi Tei, you're up!"
<p>
Ah, time to shine once again! Buchi strolled out on stage, trying to keep his step in tune with the song currently playing. This was kinda...getting boring. Thank goodness the talent portion was next! He made it to the judges, smiling warmly at them as he posed, held it for a few seconds, then turned back.
<p>
Just as he pushed his way through the curtain, he caught sight of a familiar face entering backstage, a few bags in hand. Time to get ready for the talent portion!

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"Divine" Betha Fandell
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Outfit
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Mood: A bit more confident
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Tag: Open
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Round: Winter Fashion
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Winter 7th09<br></font><br>
10:00 AM</div>
<br><br>
This would be the last time Divine would have to walk down this runway with a purpose. The repetitive motion of coming and going would end with this. Next time the crowd would see her, she'd be singing and dancing her heart out. Right now though, go show off to the judges, clothing wise. No Jay or Karma to see her off this time, they were busy getting ready for the next round.
<p>
Normally, Divine wouldn't wear hats, usually sticking with bows, ribbons, or random barrettes. But the beret she had chosen for her ensemble was....cute. She just couldn't possibly pass up such a cute little thing. She could always throw it at Eberhardt later. Little sis needed better things to wear anyway.
<p>
That all too familiar call of her name sounded, and Divine was out on the runway, strutting her stuff, showing that these boots were made for walking. Just walk back down the judges, actually smile smile at them for once, turn back, mentally curse all the men staring at her retreating form, and then it was backstage for her. Time for another changing!
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(((I'm just.....losing inspiration for this...><)))
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People say you've been talking, you got a big mouth. Saying words you know aren't true, what the hell are you talking about? So now we have a conundrum, and the problem is clearly you. This is the part where it gets ugly, and the solution getting rid of you. You'll never be safe in the shadows, I'll be waiting in the dark. With a shovel and a bag full of lime, and I'll say the devil made me do it.
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Date: Winter 7, 09; 10:00am<br>
Round: Winter Fashion<br>
Mood: Nervous, still a little sick<br>
Tag: Open<br><br>[/align]

Okay, just one more embarrassing trip out there in strange outfits, then the talent section and this will all be over... oh Goddess, the talent section... Kimberly inwardly groaned, suddenly having to fight another wave of nausea. What talents did she have? She was good with herbs, and according to Arthur, good at giving advice and guidance (though she didn't really believe him), but she couldn't do anything well that could be showed off on a stage. She couldn't sing or dance or act or display incredible feats of strength... and she was pretty sure a demonstration on how to tell poisonous herbs from medicinal ones would prove to be an incredibly boring experience. She was bored just thinking about it.

<br><br>

I'm done for... Kimberly sighed inwardly while she scrambled to throw on her last outfit of the day. It wasn't quite what she would normally be seen wearing, but she couldn't exactly run around in Winter in frilly dresses and ballet flats. Well, she could, but she'd get really cold really fast. That was just dumb. Jeans with a nice warm sweater and pleated coat would have to do for Kimberly's least favourite season of the year.

<br><br>

She took a quick peek in one of the mirrors backstage to make sure her hat and other accessories were nicely in place. No scarf or gloves, but her sweater was plenty warm and snug around her neck and with her luck, her bag would probably fall on one of the judges' heads or something if she wore gloves and lost her grip on the handle. No, this looked plenty fashionable and practical, she decided.

<br><br>

She heard her name be called again and took a deep breath, steeling herself to do that whole awkward 'smile, wave, walk across the stage and turn around' thing again. She thought she was getting better at it now that she'd had to do it so many times today. Vaguely, Kimberly wondered if this was what the Queen of England felt like every time she went out. Goddess, that'd be horrible. Kimberly did not envy her in the least if that was the case.

<br><br>

Once over with, Kimberly let out an anxious sigh and dropped her bag in her designated corner, plopping herself down to worry about what on earth she was going to do come the next round.

<br><br>

Goddess, please save me from humiliation today. I don't care if I come in dead last. I just want to walk away from this with my dignity intact so I can show my face at rituals... she silently pleaded to the Deity she worshipped so devoutly.



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Alison Summers ♪
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All Hail the Crimson King
Mayor
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<br>Alison Summers<br>
<br>Round: winter Fashion
<br>Date: Winter 7, 09 10:00 am
<br>Mood: Nervous, Frantic
<br>Tag: Open

<br>
<br><br>'Two down and with the most embarrassing part behind me it should be smooth sailing from here.' Alison thought as she pulled a black wool toboggan over her bright red hair. The hard part was over. She could handle things from here on out. Winter fashion? Yeah she could do that. She just had to change her look a little and she would be good to go.
<br><br>
She had spent a lot of time before picking out her clothes for this stage of the competition. Her knowledge of fashion didn't equal her knowledge of farming but she did have one advantage that she bet the other women didn't have. Alison had traveled around the world and along the way she had stopped at some of the biggest fashion capitols in the world. London, Paris, Milan, New York, she had spent considerable time at all of them and even though fashion wasn't a particular interest to her she had absorbed some things from osmosis and knew how the game was played. That being said it hadn't been easy to make her decision but looking back on the whole process she thought that she had chosen wisely after all.
<br><br>
She had finally decided on a set of formal winter attire that had obviously been developed more for its look than its actual ability to keep one warm in freezing temperatures. That was all good however, as Alison knew that with the stage lights and crowd it would probably feel more like the middle of summer than a cold winter day. Let the other contestants sweat themselves to death under warm winter coats. She had a competition to win and she was going to look good doing it.
<br><br>
Tugging on some black leggings and vegan fleece boots trimmed with fur she stood and examined her reflection in the mirror. She would be dressed all in black her dress reaching down to her knees and complimented by a matching belt. Making a few last minute touch ups to her makeup she smiled contentedly and went for the finishing touch.
<br><br>
The black drape coat was hung beside the mirror in her dressing room and it would complete the entire ensemble. Slipping it over her shoulders she paused to give her reflection a little wink and then it was off to find her place in line again.
<br><br>
It didn't take long for her name to be called this time as it looked like she was going to be close to the front. She couldn’t imagine doing this on a regular basis. She was about to run herself ragged with the constant movement of the show. Everyone was running to get ready and get in line, it was nonstop all the time. Didn’t these people ever take a break?
<br><br>
Apparently not because just like that she was on the move again but this time instead of the cheers and wolf whistles she heard 'ohs' and 'ahs'. Obviously the crowd hadn't expected someone who actually new a little about modern fashion and it had made an impression. Alison took a little pleasure in this but remained focused on the judges. After all it didn't matter what the crowd thought if the judges didn't like her.
<br><br>
Making her way to the end of the runway she flashed the judges a smile and struck a few poses being sure to model her outfit and sell herself like she had seen some of the real models do in other countries. Then she gave a little spin and it was back down the runway again. Next up was the talent competition and time to close the deal.

<br><br><br>

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Ian Fairholm<br>
<br>
Date: Saturday, Winter 7th, 09 ;; 10am<br>
Mood: Composed.<br>
Wearing: Clicky~[/align]<br>
<br>

"Just have it ready," he muttered as he slid off his vest and glared at the nearby stage hand.<br>
<br>
"Of course, Mr. Fairholm, but..."<br>
<br>
Ian paused, slowly lifting his eyebrow. "...but?"<br>
<br>
"Well, I..." The stage hand looked plaintively toward the large anvil beside Ian's chair. "...I mean, how are we supposed to deliver it out there?"<br>
<br>
"It's on a bloody cart for a reason," he hissed, leaning close with a quirked eyebrow. "Take. The ramp."<br>
<br>
"Yes sir." The stage hand immediately left to gather together a few of his friends, calling out orders to them.<br>
<br>
As his preparations for the Talent phase were immediately set into motion, Ian gathered together his clothing for the final stage of modeling. He was going for the simple route, much as he had for the entire pageant thus far. It enabled him to spend the bare minimum time in the changing booths and to arrive at the stage with seconds still to spare, if only to collect himself and prepare himself for a possible round of ogling. This time was no exception. The only thing that threatened to delay him was the care that he put into removing his formal shirt and pants and hanging them so as to prevent wrinkles.<br>
<br>
After that, the Winter Fashion attire was no big deal at all. He donned his pair of jeans from when he'd first arrived to the competition, making sure they fit him properly, before pulling on a black tank top that fit his torso to perfection. As he eyed his torso in the mirror he snorted. Thank God for back-breaking work.<br>
<br>
The only true thing that made this outfit Winter-like was the addition of his thick, long pea coat. He pulled it on and quirked a brow at himself in the mirror, admiring the fit of it still. He'd purchased it nearly five years ago now, but it was as durable as the day that it was purchased. It had been quite a sum...but he'd never regret it, of that he was sure. It extended down to around the middle of his thighs, though the sleeves were a wee bit too long and covered his hands down to the knuckles. A pair of black boots, thick enough to endure the harshest sparks from a smithy or the coldest temperatures from a snowdrift, completed the ensemble, and he emerged from the booth and strode toward the stage again as if he owned the place.<br>
<br>
There was no prop this time, mostly out of absent-mindedness than anything else, but really, what was there that Ian could use to display Fairholm Forge that corresponded with Winter anyway? He climbed the stage and sauntered down the runway with a purpose in his deep blue eyes, lips curved into a neutral frown of sorts. When he reached the end of the runway he crossed his arms over his chest and threw said chest out, emphasizing his strength, before he turned and went the other way.<br>
<br>
Simple? Yes, perhaps overtly so. But then again, his mind was more so focused on the Talent round of the competition, which would come next. He didn't have time for fancy fashion, not anymore.


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William Goodrick<br>
Date: Saturday, Winter 7th, 09 || 10am<br>
Mood: Awkward.<br>
Wearing: Clicky~[/align]<br><br>


While the majority of the other candidates were passing through the remaining round with relative grace and civility, William was nearly sweating in anticipation. Can't we turn down the heater for just two seconds? he whined silently as he untied his bowtie and tossed it onto his vanity. He'd certainly be a heck of a lot more comfortable without it on as high as it was. He loosened the collar of his shirt with a sheepish glance from side to side as he collected his Winter attire and spirited himself away to the changing booths.<br>
<Br>
The instant that he was able to remove his formal outfit he sank against the wall with a sigh. He was standing only in his briefs like a buffoon, yes, but he needed a moment to let the slight amount of cool air sink into his bare skin and soothe him. Otherwise he was almost certain that he'd be coming down with a fever some time soon.<br>
<br>
His outfit, now that he'd looked at those belonging to a few others in the competition, looked a little...exuberant. The colors didn't totally match, his coat didn't fit him perfectly well, and the different styles of collars just looked a little funny to him. But...well, what was he to do now? He stared at the clothing with a shake of his head and a sigh before he began to pull it on.<br>
<br>
The difference in temperature was astounding. The instant that his wooly sweater was pulled over his head and buttoned he felt himself beginning to sweat again and cursed the bright stage lighting on both sides of the curtain. The corderoy pants weren't much of a help either. By the time he had his knee socks and his shoes on as well, William was staring at the overcoat he planned to wear as well with a deep sense of disdain. Maybe all of this was a mistake, he thought wearily, shoving his hair back from his face. Everything was starting to feel a little woozy and swim through the air and he was left feeling thirstier than when he'd walked through a desert for a dig. But the coat was still there and demanded his attention.<br>
<br>
William sighed and tugged on the heavy deep maroon overcoat that fell to his feet, nearly obscuring the boots he wore beneath it, and emerged from the changing room a little shakily.<bR>
<Br>
As he made his way down the runway, William found that he couldn't focus on most anything that was happening. One foot in front of the other with a dorky smile, that was all that he knew. He didn't even trip over anything or sway dangerously at the end of the runway. There was a little hint of a tip, that was all, before he turned and went the other way. He was divesting himself of his coat before he even vanished behind the curtain and unbuttoning his sweater before he touched the vanity. There. Airflow. Better. Better to think about the talent round next.



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Alma
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<br>
This was, arguably, the round that the majority of the observers were waiting for, and the applause was far more spirited as the Mayor emerged on the stage again. "Now," he began, smiling broadly. "One more big round of applause for our contestants' fashion sense!" The crowd willingly complied. "Next...is the Talent portion of our pageant." The crowd broke into more cheers. "We have what's bound to be a wide example of the typical and the atypical both, the interesting and the inane. Let's make our first contestant feel welcome!"<br>
<br>
<hr>
<br>
<br>
You may now begin your Talent posts~ This round will be open until September 25th at 11:59pm CST to compensate for the lateness of this post, and the judges are free to begin deliberating immediately after that time. Winners will hopefully be announced by Friday, September 30th bar anything unfortunate happening to the judges.


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Greek
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CAN YOU GUESS MY SECRET?
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Round: Winter Fasion (is late orz)
Date: Winter 7, Year 9
Wearing: This
Tag: Open

"Zareen!" Zeharah shouted, and ventured away from backstage in search for her sister. Something isn't right. No, its downright wrong. Zareen wasn't like this. She wouldn't just vanish like thing without any warning at all. "Zareen!!"

"Ma'am" A stage hand approached her. "You need to come back and get ready. You're due on stage in a few minutes."

"Be quiet!" Zeharah snapped, losing what little composure she had left. "My sister is missing!" Go out on stage? How could she do that when something awful could be happening to Zareen?

The stagehand hesitated for a moment, then said. "Okay, tell me what she looks like and I'll pass it along. But... you need to get ready. If you don't do your walk then the whole timing of the pageant is going to be thrown off."

Zeharah bit her lip, hoping for there to be some other way but saw no other options. As throughly as possible Zeharah described her sister and returned backstage. Listlessly changing from her dress into her winter outfit. Working without expressionless, braiding her intricate hair and adding any extra accessories.

The stage hand from before came back to escort her to stage. Zeharah got the feeling that she was being babysat. That she couldn't be trusted to make it back to the stage. When she asked if anyone had found her sister a bland "no" was returned to her.

As one who lies as consciously as one breathes it was hardly a challenge to put up the mask of a confident woman. On the outside she showed her feisty charm, giving winks to the crowd and moving with a slight sway to show off the long skirts of her outfit. At the end of the run she performed a few abrupt spins, that lacked spirit from the ones she performed before.

On the way back Zeharah hardly gave the judges so much as a sideways glance. All she could think of was getting backstage and searching for her sister.
<center>IphigeneiaCalyn BrenMinervaOcean
Monster Ball</center>
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