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Company, good company, semantics. He grew a little uncomfortable as Hanna took the seat next to him, but other than an idle shift in his seat he let it go. "I only have a few books, none of which I'd want anyone else to touch," Jack said, ignoring the disapproving look as he cast his gaze out towards the candidates. "But I suppose that's an admirable cause."

Aside from Reading Rainbow, there was a cowboy who should have been on fire from how much homo he was exuding, some dude from that desert mission, Lex (maybe his hot but cold girlfriend would be over), basement chick, a smattering of other people he either didn't know or vaguely recognized, and his ex. Odd. Pageants weren't Lina's style, so it had to be the midget's meddling.

Ah well. If there was a swimsuit portion, at least he'd get to look.

Jack rolled his eyes at the first one, knowing that it basically set the bar very low on how well this was going to turn out. The questions themselves ranged from generic to completely off topic (anime? dates?), but really what did he expect would happen? An actual competition?

Hanna pointed out one of the judges, and he squinted. "What, Ebony Darkness over there?" Jack snorted, a corner of his lips pulling up. "She has the right attitude, I'll give her that much."

PARTICIPANT: ROUND 1

When her name was called, Mimsy stepped up onto the stage as she had been directed to. She wore a dress that fit the only idea of an interview that she knew, paired with black flats that were comfortable to stand in. Heels were avoided for the sake of her pride, but mostly her ankles.



That was not the sort of question that she had expected, despite the fact that she probably should have.

"Ah." She glanced towards Robert, who was waiting nearby in support, and sheepishly smiled. It had seemed so plausible to make it through this pageant without breaking any of the clearly defined rules, but this immediately complicated that.

"Well," she began, pausing to clear her throat and compile a course of action. "I think that this is what is called a 'trick question', due to the fact that a tragically simplified one to ten scale does not nearly fit the quantifications of how...um...yes."

After a short break to smile her most charming, crooked smile, she continued.

"As a man who is equivalent to Mister Stark, a more refined scale which can only be answered by those who truly understand your excellence is what you should be using. If you do not already have such a scale, I am pleased to offer my assistance when we have more time to speak in depth!"

Another smile hid the long sigh of relief through her teeth. That was an acceptable answer, wasn't it? She certainly hoped so, at least, and she couldn't help looking slightly anxious as her attention turned to Allan.

Judging from the way that he threw all of his cards away and climbed up on the table, she suspected he probably didn't even notice.



Before her arrival at Deus, Mimsy's consumption of any sort of media had been incredibly limited, and generally occurred only through other parties rather than by her direct choice. Popular culture was more important here than it was in the community that she'd known, so she tried to absorb as much information as she could - but she still wasn't sure that she had enough information to answer all of these questions.

"I am afraid that I cannot possibly select a single one," she admitted, as it was technically true. "I am sure that you understand! The diversity of subject matter is very vast and expansive. And inspiring! I have seen how well it can guide someone through life; you set a good example of that."



Of all of the judges, speaking to Dwight in this setting felt a bit odd, as if the situation itself was somehow tickling her mind. She stifled an awkward little laugh with her hand, and stood up straight in an attempt to take this seriously.

"You already know this." Her brows raised to give him an expectant sort of look. "But it is Alice, of course. I suppose that her classification as a princess is somewhat arguable, but there is simply no better choice."

Knowing that Alice 'belonged' to Disney was a new discovery, but Alice herself had been with her for the majority of her life. When she spoke again, her tone was marginally more quiet, and she began to tap at her hip with her thumb.

"I have wanted to be in Alice's position - which is as close as I could ever truly be to being her - since I was very young. I understand what it is like to be led by incessant curiosity, and have experienced the difficulties associated with existing in a place where everything is so different from what I know. I understand how frustrating it can be when it seems as if everyone is speaking a different language, but Alice and I differ in the sense that my curiosity is even stronger. I would not want to leave until I learned all that there was to learn about this place, especially if it was previously undocumented."

She closed her eyes with a good-natured wince. "I apologize. I have too much to say in regards to this subject, so I will opt out of saying any more."

After directing a little bow towards Dwight, she looked to Zoe. Any hint of her friendly smile was now completely gone, replaced with the deadpan expression that her most fantastically hateful acquaintance was so good at drawing out of her.



"I assume that you do not mean the division." She tilted her head inquisitively, but didn't wait for an answer. "So! The formalist definition of life is defined as the quality that differentiates a functioning being from one that is non-functioning, characterized by the capacity to grow, reproduce, and react. It is classified into four biological families, but I would argue that there are at least five, considering the existence of FEAR-based organisms. It is not always that simple, however. In astrobiology especially, this is quite the question. There is a general consensus that living things must be complex and organized, and that they should be capable of consuming some sort of energy from their environment that sustains their capability of growth and reproduction. There is a constant debate within the scientific community regarding this classification, so I will simply answer: life is undefined."

Not a very simple answer in actuality, but it could have been much worse if she had opted against it. She didn't smile or bow this time, and made her way off of the stage without another word to allow the next participant to take their turn.

While she waited for the next portion, she sought out Robert among the spectators, and hooked her arm around his as she leaned against him. She had assumed that there might be some minor difficulties that would need to be delicately circumvented, but she hadn't really prepared herself for...well. This.

"I apologize. I am willing to drop out of the competition, if you are no longer comfortable with this," she offered, blinking up at him as she waited for his response.

Another girl had come up to their little group, and Bashshar felt like he should introduce himself, but she seemed so flustered over her apparent lack of glasses that he didn't want to disrupt her further. Well, they were on top of her head... but surely she knew that? He kind of just shrugged to himself, and let Lex handle the situation, since he seemed to jump right on the opportunity to fix her glasses and up her sexiness level.

The next round was going to start soon, and Kylee hadn't even filled out her form completely! At least Lex stepped in to fill out a porn star name for her, since Bashshar, while willing to rate Kylee, was not quite enthused over giving her a porno name. Except, looking at the sheet now... he probably should have.

God, that was terrible. He kind of felt bed for Kylee. "Uh... that's a... memorable name." Bashshar reached back out to Kylee, giving her a few awkward shoulder pats as if that would help see her through this trauma.

ROUND 1 PARTICIPANT

Peyton had returned America's hi-five after answering the Judge's questions, and resumed her almost stony-faced silence as she watched the other's and waited for her name to be called. Again, she was hit with an almost over-whelming dread that had her pulse hammering in her ears, and small palms sweating. It had been a long week, old high school insecurities were rearing their ugly head.

<You're amazing, you'll do fine.>

The Sun grimaced, nodding mutely before the sound of her own name being called startled her. Her eyes were a touch wide as she started walking, but by the time she faced the judges she had forcibly dragged that newly found confidence back around herself like a shield. The smile she flashed the four seating before her was radiant.

"Out of the curiosity, what exactly would you do with your prize money?" This from Mark. There was a moments hesitation as she thought about it, having entered for funsies, with no real illusions that she might actually win.

And then something came to her that had delicate features lighting up. "I would save it until next March, and use it to fund a trip to India for Holi, the festival of color." It was something she was planning on anyways, but with the possible extra money from the pageant more of her friends could come along too!

Allan's question was easier. "What is your favorite Pokemon?"

"Skitty, though Pikachu is a close second." Her preference was mostly based on aesthetics, but hey. A favorite was a favorite.

"If you were a Disney princess which one would you be and why?" Her attention turned to Dwight. This was probably her favorite question, and she grinned before answering.

"Tinker Bell, if Tink counts as a princess." She did, right? "She's small, but feisty, and has a big personality. She's also pretty fearless, and doesn't hesitate to jump to the defense of people she cares about." Nailed it.

Zoe's question--"Define why?"--earned a twitch of pale brow, and she opened her mouth to repeat herself before closing it as a thoughtful, sly little smile slid into place. "Why. Adverb; for what reason or purpose. Exclamation; Expressing surprise, or adding emphasis to a response." Taym was a good, or maybe bad, influence on her.

Smile a little smug, she strode away from the judges and returned to America's side.

He had been more than a little bit mopey lately and after getting Inoke's text he'd almost backed out of the idea of leaving his dorm. Instead he pushed himself out of his chair, polished himself up and headed out. He then lingered in the back for a bit before nudging himself forward mentally to pick up the clip board and fill it out.

He didn't think that he would win but five grand was five grand and with that kind of money maybe he'd be able to fund a small, fun get-away the next time he was on leave... Or finally get the right mini-figs for the D&D campaign he meant to run.

It put a little bit more of a spring in his step, adding a slight smile in to the mix as well.



Somewhere along the line, Arland had mixed 'drag name' with 'porn name' but he had already set the clipboard down to step into line so it was a little bit late to take it back. He then ran his fingers back through his hair, pulling the strands back into a ponytail with the scrunchie that had been around his wrist.

He opened his mouth and then promptly snapped it shut again, Ian's face heating unexpectedly because why would Finn bring that up? It was obvious to him what the other was alluding to, but it had been a mistake, a terrible mistake to even come over here in the first place and think that Finn could be a decent human being.

Ian reminded himself, very forcefully, that Finn was his friend, even if he was a complete a*****e.

"Possessed by a demon who cut my throat," said Ian cheerfully, even as Shiloh pulled his hand away from his bandages again, and his heart leapt a little as his arms went around him from behind. He cleared his throat, gave Finn a pointed look, and then sighed a slightly hoarse breath.

Sometimes it was just too exhausting trying to keep up appearances with everyone.

"Sorry," he said, mostly apologizing to poor Oliver, still trapped beside Finn, and Ripley, whom Ian was starting to think of as Finn's keeper of sorts, the latter of which he had already determined kept his composure well and was good natured about everything. But it was also (sort of) an apology to Finn, and then one as well to Shiloh. "Bit off lately, as you can see," he finished lamely, gesturing at his neck just as the pageant started.







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Gale turned as Stormy arrived and gave her a hesitant, slightly guilty smile, shifting his feet.

"I, erm..." he said, gesturing vaguely towards everyone around. "I thought you could...use a bit of a break, y'know, what with everything happening, so I, erm...it's just a bit of fun, y'know?" he added hastily, beginning to think this was a Very Very Bad Idea and that Stormy was going to stab him.

"So I, erm...I signed you up for this thing please don't kill me."

Another buzz from his jacket pocket alerted Oliver to Ripley's reply. And although it made little sense when taken out of context, the message he typed out seemed like the most logical response to the young boy.



The glance Oliver sent Finn's way was suspiciously nervous, but the rough hunter was entirely preoccupied by his conversation with Ian. There was a lot that wasn't being said there, the little Life trainee could feel the tenseness between them. But he decided, wisely, to not say a thing about it.

He nodded towards Shiloh. "Y-yeah, he's really nice sometimes," he said with a smile, and there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice. He truly believed this to be the case. Finn could be rude, and aggressive, but he could also bring cookies to someone who had missed dinner.

"Um, d-don't worry about it," Oliver replied quickly. Ian's voice sounded strained, with the roughness of his sigh and the clearing his throat. "Ian, d-did you need some water?" Or jello? The second question was left unsaid, but Oliver was already wondering if there was any of the green jello left in the infirmary.