Survival of the Fittest (a SUAW event): Fantasy's Got Talent

Round Four: Talentless Twits

It's time to show off some of your free talent. Your character has to make a performance on stage of your own choosing. They can sing, they can dance, tell a joke. All powers are now working so feel free to show them off. This time if you would like to add one extra character you may. However you can only add one, not more than that and they must be relevant to the scene. For example, a friend or family member can be in the audience supporting them or perhaps they could do a duet with your character on stage.  

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Brilliant heat once more burned across Sunny's vision, obscuring the opera house and the four judges sitting alone several rows from the front.

She had said from the beginning that she wasn't a performer, and every challenge had been a performance, a battle without an opponent. Now she was expected to show off, to present a talent of her choosing. The options, in her opinion, were few, so instead of waiting in her rooms she made her way immediately backstage where she hoped something among the theater's assortment of props would inspire her.

Now back on display, standing carelessly over the black X and dual-wielding her weapon of choice, she tried to summon memories of classes taken as a teen. The house lights dimmed and a spotlight clicked on with a distant boom that faded into deafening silence.

The first haunting notes of her violin echoed in the vaulted chamber, as pure and certain as a breeze over rolling, green hills. Sunny closed her eyes, tuning out the theater, the stage, and her mysterious hosts, and fell into the music, letting it pierce her breast and wind its way into her limbs.

The glow beyond her eyelids was a fertile sun, the stage became firm soil beneath her feet. Bees floated among flowering clover. Birdsong accompanied her.

She raised a knee beneath her borrowed prairie skirt, toe pointed earthward, and stepped lightly into the notes, wending her way through a Celtic ballad rich with sorrow and joy. Her dance began as a whisper, a gentle sway that mirrored her melancholy tune, growing apace with her music.

She walked through the meadows of memory as a child of wonder. The skirt flared as she skipped lightly through adolescence, and her hair fanned behind her when she boldly whirled into adulthood. The world flowered into lands few had ever seen, hosting peoples unmet. Her backyard, her playground, was a universe of the unknown and she reveled in it.

The music wept for loss, exulted with discovery, cowered in shadow, and broke free in the light of her namesake while she danced. Old lessons mingled with raw emotion and became something new. Her steps weren't measured, they were ordained as if by God, and she, a mere channel for the powers of creation.

The tempo changed and her song spoke of kindness, empathy, and love, the priceless gifts of her parents made manifest through Sunny's subtle bow. It changed again to match Wil's solid reliability, Enid's unquenchable fire, and the tranquil sea of their friendship. Sunny herself was the wind, soaring in great leaps; a gyrating whirlwind, an inevitable storm.

The melody and dance were all that she was, everything she had lived and seen, everyone she needed and cared for. It was a song of life and she poured it out on that lonely stage for unseen watchers. It didn't matter; it wasn't for them. It had always been with her, articulated in hopes and dreams, held hands and gentle embraces, the challenge of adventure and the pain of loss, and now expressed in its native, purest form.

But there was no magic in it, no mystic conjurations, no otherworldly presence, it was just a young, practical, passionate woman, and her endurance finally neared its limits. She glided to a stop at the exact spot she began and opened her eyes as the last notes drifted from her instrument. There was the worn, wooden stage, the velvet chairs, the high, arched ceiling, and the uncomfortably bright light. There were the four mysterious shadows watching impassively.

What they had seen was anyone's guess. Sunny couldn't recall a single step or note and had no guess as to the quality of either, but she had been as honest as she knew how and that was all anyone could fairly ask.

"That's it," she panted, squinting against the glare. "That's all I've got. Now I'd like to know when someone will answer my questions."

A hollow quiet echoed back, followed by a click that she was now prepared for and the trapdoor opened beneath her.

"Nice try," she said coldly, straddling the opening. She had marked its dimensions on the last two trips down and had made sure her footing was sure. "I'm willing to play along but only if you people are straight with me," she continued and the corner of her mouth twisted into a slight grin. "Otherwise we're going to start playing by my rules."

With that, she set the violin and its bow gently down, gave her audience a brief nod, and jumped feet first into the hole.