The Ninth Trial

[advisories]

Who: everyone
When: Day 18, starting just after dawn
Where: The Hermit's Tent, and all around

[This morning as the sun begins to pour through the train's windows, there's the tremor that signals a Trial.]

Come hither, Heroes. Prove thy worth. Or something like that!

[It's the same older man's voice from the sixth trial, and outside is the same fortune teller's stall. Today the front flap is lifted to show a normal interior -- there's a wooden table, carved with geometric patterns and painted in bright colours, lit by teal-coloured carved candles.

At the table sits a man of indeterminate age, somewhere between 30 and 60. He's wearing what appear to be monk's robes, teal with patterned trimming. In front of him is a crystal ball and a stack of bingo cards, along with a stand-up sign bearing the rules of this Trial.

Across the top in large font, it says:

Icebreaker Bingo

Good luck and have fun!]

Comments

[voreaciously]

Yes, but you are competitive, do dares and take part in wagers. I am wondering if you could beat yourself at something.

[bad_crowmance]

I don't wanna beat myself at that one....

[voreaciously]

Yes, that is what makes it so amusing. I mean interesting. Interesting is what I meant to say. You would not do it for sparks?

[bad_crowmance]

Not even for sparks. A guy's gotta have some pride in himself...!

[voreaciously]

And thus, to his grand dismay, Crow-san's character continued to grow.

[bad_crowmance]

I have lots of character! It's just that I don't want "hard-working" to be considered part of it.

[voreaciously]

Yes, well, I would have thought integrity to be equally anathema. At any rate, good luck with your lackadaisical pursuits, hmm?

[bad_crowmance]

Don't worry, I won't do my best at all.

[ Get it? ]

[voreaciously]

[She makes a gentle, mysterious noise in her throat.]

Of course.

[She is a clock, but she cannot help but look at the one in the kitchen.]

There is still some time before I should give you your massage. Were there other squares you wished to do?

[bad_crowmance]

There's always pretending to be your favourite animal!

[voreaciously]

[What is her favourite animal?

Something intelligent. Lethal. Aquatic.

But really, her favourite animal is the one animal that has been by her side until very recently. Watery moth-like wings form at her back and she sprouts antenna to match.]

Tzzz. Tzzz!

[It's a kind of squeaky buzzing noise.]

[bad_crowmance]

[ What... animal is this? He applauds, though. ]

Man, using your water magic's a nice touch!

[voreaciously]

Thank you. Did you know what it was, though?

[bad_crowmance]

Not a clue!

[ He admits it cheerfully and without hesitation. ]

[voreaciously]

[Instead of adopting moth characteristics, instead, water surrounds her and it is clearly a moth shape with the wings flitting at different speeds.

She buzzes again, irritably!]

[bad_crowmance]

Is it... a moth?

[voreaciously]

Ah, yes!

[She seems faintly excited that he guessed it.]

That is correct!

[The water fades away.]

[bad_crowmance]

I'd never thought about the sound a moth makes... I think that's what threw me off. So you like bugs, huh?

[voreaciously]

I like anything worth attention. Moths certainly are. I nearly picked spiders or a blue-ringed octopus--so lovely, so lethal, but moths are lovely things.

[Well, one moth in particular, but still.]

[bad_crowmance]

Moths are pretty cool, I can't blame you there.

[voreaciously]

Yes, they have very clever and interesting defense mechanisms. They are also very sweet and sometimes feisty. But ahh, I do not wish to grow carried away. [he didn't ask for moth facts and data.]

Your turn.

[bad_crowmance]

[ He balls his hand into a fist and then holds it up to his face as though it were a paw. ]

Nyaaa~

[voreaciously]

[Her face flushes pink for a moment.]

As expected.

[She clears her throat delicately.]

[bad_crowmance]

Well, it was either that or a bird. I like both pretty equally.

[voreaciously]

That does not surprise me, but I am glad to hear it. I imagine it would be a special sort of terrible to be named for a bird and have no taste for it.