The Seventeeth Trial

[catcophonous]

Who: trialgoers
When: Day 39, evening
Where: The Cat's Zone

[Have you enjoyed your day playing in your new train cars? Great! Because now it's Trial Time.

With the usual alert, the Cat's bar appears in the clearing. There's no "come hither" -- instead, just the pounding of bass from the speakers as the door cracks open. Inside there's flashing party lights, upbeat club music, and high-top tables surrounding a wide dance floor. The stage in the corner is empty except for a single microphone.

At the bar you can get free drinks, but you'll have to contend with the bartender -- a black cat curled up on the shelf between the bottles.

On the bar, and on every table, is a sign showing the rules of this game, titled:

Kiss or Dare

If you want to dress up for the club, or want costumes for daring purposes, there's a dressing room behind the stage with a magic closet. You'll find whatever you like in it, but when the trial ends you can only take home what you're wearing!

Good luck!]

RULES | TURN-IN | THE CAT / DISQUALIFICATION

Comments

[voreaciously]

[HNGH]

Just in general.

[survivaltricks]

[>F]

Fair enough. It suits you.

[he says earnestly. he may be a dude but he can call a cute dress when he sees one!1]

Are you playing?

[voreaciously]

...Thank you.

Yes, I am. If you are, would you like to go first?

[survivaltricks]

[confidently, and with a firm nod to back it up]

Absolutely, I do.

[a beat]

Kiss or dare?

[presuming that's what she meant by "go first"]

[voreaciously]

Dare, please.

[survivaltricks]

I dare you to. . .

[trails off thoughtfully, gaze wandering towards the stage]

Sing karaoke on stage.

[MISCHIEF]

[voreaciously]

[she sets her lips and looks uncomfortable for a bare moment, but it passes.]

...Very well.

[survivaltricks]

[it's a bare moment, but he does notice, hands dipping into the pockets of his pants as he watches her]

Not a fan of the spotlight?

[voreaciously]

No, I...can perform, I play instruments, my singing is simply...dreadful. But it is your dare.

[survivaltricks]

It's my dare, but nothing in the rules says you have to accept it.

[he would not at all be offended if she refused]

[he'd say that he's sure her singing isn't that bad, but. . . he's never heard her, and he has learned that she isn't one for useless platitudes, so]

1/2

[voreaciously]

It literally is, though. I will have to kiss you if I do.

2/2

[voreaciously]

Which is not to say that I think doing so is terrible. I simply...that is to say...

1/2

[survivaltricks]

[. . . blinks a few times. . .]

[survivaltricks]

[huffs an amused noise, trying to stifle a laugh]

Technically you can turn down both, you'd just be giving me a free five points.

[HELL YEAH CLOVER POINTS]

I wouldn't say no, but there is a possibility that I'm a terrible kisser.

[voreaciously]

That is not an option. If you are worried about kissing, then you could practise.

[survivaltricks]

Nah. I'm not worried. If I'm a bad kisser, I'm a bad kisser.

[he has ZERO self-consciousness about this]

[wags his fingers at her though, a little playfully]

But it's your choice. You can take the dare or the kiss; either-or.

[voreaciously]

Do not be so complacent with being awful.

[be the BEST KISSER YOU CAN BE

but her playful mood comes to an end when he reminds her of the dare.]

Very well.

[she walks toward the stage primly but there is something sombre about her gait, like she's walking to the gallows.

She starts to sing in the microphone but it's very, very quiet. It is Habanera from Carmen, but it is nearly impossible to tell. Her voice is scratchy and off. Once, once, there's a moment, a set of notes that ring clear and it is a tremendously beautiful sound, brilliant, like lightning arcing across the night sky, strong and effortlessly worthy of attention, but it is gone just as quick and she is back to quiet, awful murmuring until the song is complete.]

[survivaltricks]

[HE IS ALREADY A GOOD KISSER, HE JUST DOESN'T KNOW IT YET]

[his hands dip into his pockets when she takes the stage, mouth curving into a sheepish smile, and-- you know, he isn't going to call her out on being super quiet and nervous, because she did tell him that her singing wasn't that great. and for a moment? it seems like she's telling the truth]

[until those few notes echo through the microphone, clear and bright as day, and he can't help the way his expression slackens in surprise]

Ah--?

[and that's the expression he wears until she finishes, mouth slightly parted in confusion and a little bit of awe. WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO SING. . .]

[voreaciously]

[She returns from the stage a few moments after the song ends, remaining where she is for some reason, but when she does, she does not address any of it.]

Kiss or dare, Spark-han?

[survivaltricks]

[staring at her in silence for a few moments after she returns, wanting to ask, but. . .]

[. . .]

Dare.

[voreaciously]

Tell three people that you think are attractive that they are.

[survivaltricks]

[. . . A DANGEROUS DARE]

All right.

[and then, immediately, with little shame]

I think you're cute. Does that count?

[voreaciously]

I am not. Three other people.

[survivaltricks]

Two other people.

[holds up two fingers, as though for emphasis]

The standard you gave me was subjective. People I think or attractive. Ergo, my opinion is the one that matters.

[. . . except now he has to find two other people. . . Noon, probably. Crow?? Crow's cute. Faito??? she's cute, too]

[voreaciously]

[he's right and she hates it, she just never thought he'd tell her that]

Very well, then. I concede the point. Proceed.