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Let's March!
Username: Shadica
Character:Saoirse Claes

Saoirse wandered into the area just as the old lady announced the strength contest. Having missed the comments on the dance she didn't realize that she had missed anything although she figured she was rather late from the way people had been gathered before lining up at the bags of dirt.

A contest of strength sounded fun it would be interesting to see how well everyone did. She hurried over to one of the bags not wanting to be left out if there was not enough bags of dirt for everyone. She planed on trying out as many activities as she could, if she was lucky she would be able to try them all although that was a bit hard since there was so much stuff to do.

Prompt 1 -> Prompt 2

Was the man completely batty? Preacher wondered, not for the first time, what kind of world Saga lived in. Half of the things he said did not ,make much sense, though she supposed he felt the same about her speech. It seemed that the cultural gap between them was large enough for a titan to barrel though and Preacher resented him a little for that. If she had grown up in his circle, she might have batted her lashes behind an elaborate fan or played his pretty word games... but she had not. So, as they began tio dance, she merely said, "To be bought 'n' sold is tha only way o' life for me, Marshal." And she said no more, and merely let the music guide her feet.

It was a spirited tune, lively in its simplicity. Luckily for Preacher, the dance matched it in simple, easily copied steps and soon she was twirling gracefully, adding flourishes of her own. Preacher's feet felt weightless, like clouds as she danced, bowing in turns, turning, sweeping her arms out towards Saga. They made a weird-looking pair, she knew, but she was having too much fun to care. A delighted smile stayed fixed upon her face, an exceedingly rare sight or the girl. The lines of her bodies seemed to flow like water, shifting and turning: there were no awkward angles about her in this moment. Saga matched her well in movements, oddly enough. But, the music began to fade and, as it did so, so did the smile.

Vaguely embarrassed, Preacher dropped Saga's hand as though it burned her. Instead, she wrapped both arms around herself. The woman droned on and on. A strength test? Preacher could and likely should participate, but she didn't feel like it. The magic from the dance was fading and it had left her feeling oddly empty. She shook her head forcefully and glanced up at Saga.

"So... You gon' pull tha bags too? Have ya even gotta arm muscles, eh?" She glanced around and saw Shun lugging two bags. Her arch nemesis was probably suited to this menial task, too, she though savagely.

Prompt 1->2

Axel laughed when Tala stepped on his foot. It was good to know he wasn't the clumsiest one of the pair. He had been starting to feel like a total oaf. Then it was his turn to be embarrassed when she asked him what he did. He did work part time at the bookstore, but that was mostly just hauling boxes of books around. He didn't have a proper job, one that would impress a girl.

"I work in a bookstore sometimes, but they mostly have me moving boxes for them." He didn't have it in him to lie. "Usually I do odd jobs wherever I can." Odd jobs that consisted of moving heavy items, more often than not. He hadn't asked Shakuntala to dance with the intent of wooing her, but he was still embarrassed to admit to being nothing more than a laborer.

Then the music ended him, saving him further embarrassment. He bowed to Shakuntala. "Thanks for dancing with me. I had fun. I hope I didn't trample you too much."

The contest of strength sounded much more up his alley than the dancing. He had even been out-danced by Preacher of all people. He had caught a glimpse of the mismatched pair, and Preacher moved with a grace that was both surprising and unsettling.

Nope, he was no dancer. Hauling stuff around was the test for him. If he were cleverer, he would have feigned weakness and definitely gotten out of hauling barges, but being such a terrible dancer had him flustered. He wanted to be good at something. So Axel went over and grabbed a couple of the bags, one in each hand. Axel might be clumsy and uncoordinated when it came to dancing, but he was quite strong. He started walking, dragging the bags and concentrating on keeping his grip. It was a stupid, uncomfortable way to move heavy things, but he supposed it was the best approximation of pulling a barge the volunteer coordinators could come up with. He went at a slow and steady pace. He didn't want to lose his hold and sprawl in the dirt like that blushing young nobleman over there.

Yikes. Talk about embarrassing. Axel averted his eyes.

A familiar voice caused Nik’s head to jerk up and the frustration evident on his face melted away as he found himself looking at a very familiar redhead. With a sharp tug accompanied by a grunt he shook his head. “You seem to always be around when I am in need of encouragement Alec.” He stated with a smile. Just like the game of darts that demonstrated his tragic aim, the unusual lad was once again coming to his rescue and preventing him from simply giving up. Not only did his words act as a salve for his irritation, but witnessing the goggle wearing boy nearly drop his bag on his foot only added to the relief. “You better not have done that for my benefit!” He called out playfully before once again throwing his weight behind him.

The stinging in his hands worsened with every tug to the point where he could have sworn they had cracked and begun to bleed. He and his friends had always made jokes at the cost of the workingman’s dignity, but even this little taste made him wonder what was so funny about looking down on hard work. Nobles were invalids, but at times they certainly appeared to be that way. Especially when faced with an activity such as this. Turning from his thoughts he looked back to Alec and chuckled. “You are quite a natural at this Goggles!”

"What she's already at the finish line?! No fair that was suppose to me!" He was dragging the two bags at a confortable pace at this point. He was feeling no pain at this point but that was probably the adrenaline from him being fired up thinking it was a competition. Using the adrenaline he picked up the speed with the two bags. He raced along and dragged the bags across the finish line... and then some. Once he realized he was traveling farther than neccesary he stopped as he looked at Danny and Shun. After he stopped the adrenaline did as well as he hit the ground with a THUD dropping the two bags. Although it was a hard thud the boy was still alive he was just breathing very heavily and needed a rest.

Lenore allowed herself to be lead to the sandbags, deciding not to press the issue in a moment of rare diplomacy. Eyeing the one Zin indicated, she surmised that while someone larger might be able to carry it like she carried stacks of books in the store, it would be too difficult for her and Zinnia. She looked up at the older girl. "Maybe you should pull while I push?"

((Sorry for the delay, my parents got home and wanted to hang out shortly after I last posted.))

Sweat had already begun to glisten on his forehead by the time he was halfway down the courtyard, something that caused him to inwardly chortle. He had gone on multiple hunts in his lifetime, had dueled with the best of them in swordplay and had even worked around a few resistant horses in his time, but this was still enough to make him feel weak. It wasn’t as though being a noble instantly caused his muscles to deflate and become useless, he was a strong individual, but there were definitely different definitions of what it meant to be strong. He could play among the nobles with ease, but dragging a bag of dirt was not in his repertoire. Despite that realization, he did not drop the bag or give in to the pain now radiating from his hands to his wrists.

“Ha!” He called over his shoulder to Alec. “Goggles were the first thing I noticed about you! Thought it was fitting, suppose I could call you red though if you would prefer.” He jibed, once more nearly wrenching his shoulders from his sockets as he tugged violently at the bag. It wasn’t until he nearly backed into an observer that he realized he had managed to cross the finish line. Dropping the bag and looking down at his now raw hands he grinned. “Glorified delivery boy or not, you left me in the dust.” Dragging his forearm across his forehead he wiped away the sweat and pushed his damp bangs from his face. “Well, that was fun.” He exhaled.

Shun narrowed his eyes and cast a sidewards glance towards Alec. He wasn't sure what to make of that comment. He wasn't first so it was possible that it could be sarcasm. For now, he dismissed it.

While he let his arms rest, he stared down at Cyril who apparently decided to take a dirt nap.

"Did he pass out?" he asked in a neutral tone, soon noting that the guy was still alive, judging the way he was breathing.