Welcome to Gaia! ::

There was something lacking in Lydia's life lately, and that thing was confidence.

What better way to build confidence then to enter a beauty pageant? Right? Right???

Not realizing that it was perhaps the best way to shatter what little confidence she had, the death trainee arrived, nervous, but with a large smile stretched across a now tanned and very freckled face, hair in its usually mess of curls, clothes in their usual state of mismatched disarray (but she was totally wearing her swimsuit beneath them).

Making her way to the judges table, Mark would receive a friendly finger waggle as a greeting before she quickly set to work filling out her form.

It was perhaps a great blessing and to everyone's benefit that she decided not to write "dying animal sounds" as her talent.

NAME: Lydia Stiles
SEXINESS: I'm sure that at least one person in the world must consider me a 10......
SMARTNESS: 10
YOUR TALENT: invisible hula hoop
THINGS YOU LIKE: The outdoors, reading/research/studying, making up languages
YOUR PORN STAR NAME: Trixie Flicker


The combination of her first pets name with the street she grew up on, while unfortunate, amused her to no end.

Handing in her sheet of paper, she couldn't help but lean in close to a certain Sasquatch-like man, before saying in a hushed tone. "You know, I always found the Rocky Mountains to be a beautiful place to visit. I bet the cave you were raised in is simply enchanting." She began digging in one of her pockets, before pulling out a very crushed looking bag of Cheetos that she set on the table and slid towards him with one finger.

This was totally an act of kindness and in no way to be considered a bribe of some sort.

She then winked at him and, with a giggle, shuffled away to find a place to wait.

Harland's face fell. He had thought he was being good, when he didn't even try to call Alistaire his boyfriend or anything-- not that it would have been true to say it, but he couldn't help but wish it was true. It would be nice. Consort, boyfriend, partner-- anything. Business partner wasn't really the same thing.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked down at the floor. He didn't know it was weakness, to tell people he cared about him. He didn't know that was bad, too. How could that be bad? Harland looked helpless, staring off into the distance, like a machine shutting down.

Harland didn't even bother looking at Alistaire, or at Lilac. His eyes had a far off glazed look, like he was lost somewhere in his memory. He was. Looking back at Alistaire on the terrace, with the night sky around them, fireworks far away--

He didn't want to come back down from that memory.

Still couldn't bring himself to even look at Alistaire.

A suspicious eye between the two, notes made in the conversation and then Alistaire's greeting and Harls reaction to it told her it was time to go. It wasn't fun and didn't feel good to be the awkward third wheel, and even though she didn't know much of anyone outside of Harland she wasn't about to stay here between the obviously something wrong pair. Maybe Alistaire had taken their greeting he stumbled upon wrong or maybe it was something she said, what little she had to the man but it didn't feel right. "Ah ha..um! Well it's nice to meet you too, I'm a little likewise I guess." She cleared her throat cheeks red and paranoia setting in that she might be making things worse between them. "I'm ..just going to go Harl's you know find a seat and stuff." She patted her friends shoulder and gave a weak smile to Alistaire, "hope to see you around!" Then she was out, racing for a chair to catch her breath in.

Cee hadn't actually done much to prepare for the 'pageant' because she pretty much always looked perfect. It was a complete and carefully honed, ever present state of being. She went without the bump today, but there was body and bounce and wave in her hair that only ocean air could bring. She bounced down to the stage holding a small box and quickly filled out her entry form.

NAME: Cee DiGregorio
SEXINESS: 69
SMARTNESS: I thought it was a beauty contest
YOUR TALENT: Stripping Shooting
THINGS YOU LIKE: Shoes and whatever you like
YOUR PORN STAR NAME: Dee Licious

Her hair was flicked away from her lipstick with a pinky as she checked around to see who the competition was. She waggled her fingers at Maebe.

Right so, this was soooo not something he'd normally do but he knew hiding in his room wasn't really going to get him anywhere. He figured maybe being distracted by something stupid would help him feel better or at least let him not think about crap too much.

Plus money was money right?

So after getting the text he'd headed down to the training field to find that "Wow, lots of guys entering." He scooped up a clipboard and ignored the giggling in his head as Vi started cracking jokes about putting them all in dresses. He'd been there and done that in highschool The whole thing had been rather impressive but he doubted that was going to be what came of whatever this was.

NAME: Inoke Nalu
SEXINESS: 10 (you dont win over surfers)
SMARTNESS: 7 (beauty over brains right?)
YOUR TALENT: Hula (there may be drag involved with this, but no meerkats)
THINGS YOU LIKE: Surfing, Sunbathing, reading while sunbathing.
YOUR PORN STAR NAME: Dezi Diamond



Once he was done filling out his form and had handed it over he pulled out his phone again.

There was a bit of an excited twinkle in Finn's eye when he spoke to Chel again. "A private show? I'm there, darling."

Spotting a familiar white haired head in the crowd, the moon intermediate then shouted out. "HEY RIPPLES! I SAVED YOU A SEAT!"

And then he used his free hand to pat his lap, before he turned towards Oliver. "I'm noticing that this pageant seems to be turning into a bit of a sausage fest. Maybe we should get you entered, Princess. What do you say?"

Generally, a beauty pageant was not something that Mimsy would have been interested in at all. There were far better things to competitively display than the physical form of humans - like science projects, of instance - and she was not particularly fond of the idea of rewarding simple aesthetics. But this was a pageant that granted an intriguing title of superiority, which also measured skill, and that changed everything.

The monetary prize also didn't hurt.

After getting her affairs in order, then ensuring that she looked presentable, she arrived at the designated location and examined the panel of judges. The array was somewhat predictable, with the exception of her dear friend from the Christmas party.

A small wave was offered to Dwight; she momentarily wondered if this event might provide her with some progress, as this sort of pageantry was distinctly human in nature.

"Hello Dwight," she greeted him, managing only half of a smile in her tentative state. "I hope that you are well."

She approached the table to pick up a clipboard, and extended one finger to (barely) touch Mark. Her hand was yanked away from him in an instant, as if she had been burned.

"Ouch. My curiosity has caused me to injure myself in my attempt to handle you. Your clothing is accurate," she informed him, in complete monotone. The injury must not have been too significant, however, because she began to fill out the form with the same hand.