YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 7

[a1c0bb]

For this round, we want to see prompts that are based on settings or locations! For your prompts, please provide a location or setting. It can be as specific or as abstract as you want, and can be in any medium you prefer!

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Comments

PROMPT: TEAM TRANSFORMERS

[wildpiercy]

A renaissance festival!

FILL: TEAM TRANSFORMERS

[legendtrainer]

Lug/Anode, no warnings!

Weeks and weeks of planning had finally come to fruition. The costumes Lug and Anode were now wearing had been easier to make than the ones for the Terran animation convention, if a bit different than their original visions. They were metal, but it had still been an ordeal. Most human outfits needed fabric, and even the plastic polymer fabrics from the aforementioned convention had been expensive. Natural fibers? They could have purchased a small vehicle as a pet. The human who had suggested they both should go, Verity, had hemmed and hawed over possible options before tossing up her hands and suggesting they go as knights.

A museum exhibit in a nearby country had provided the inspiration. Both of them had assumed they'd go in, transscan them, and spend the rest of the day admiring the other exhibits, but it hadn't really worked. Those knights were very deceptively made; there was no machinery inside their hollow shells.

Silver paint had been acquired, armour patterns altered, and they were indeed rolling. Those armour patterns had taken a lot of work, and could be permanent depending on how they felt. The battlemasks were quite stylish... it was tempting.

Despite the difficulty, the impressed looks as they made their way across the parking lot to the ticket tent indicated it was going to be worth it. They'd recorded metal clangs to give that authentic effect; their own armour was too insulated to give the proper noise (reduced of course so as not to sound like a fight in a saucepan cupboard).

It had felt a bit like cheating to do a metal being, but the cost of period-accurate Renaissance fabrics for patterns scaled to their size was enough to purchase property in the area. The cost of the space bridge to the planet had already been more than enough for their shared bank account.

Both femmes' dreams of strange organic outfits had fizzled at the first cost estimate.

Anode picked up more fascinated whispers as they were given their armbands. It was mid-morning, and both bots had plans.

Touring the artists' tents earned them excited exclamations and many requests for selfies. Other faire-goers had similar requests. Collecting gifts of various types, they meandered around, enjoying the various smells of human food and drink. Fermented grains poured from casks and sugars caramelising over flames, alongside more standard fare. On the second round they decided on a few items for themselves. A quilt for the organic-sized sofa installed in their jump-ship. Some sharp objects for display. More sharp objects. Some honey and tea for their occasional human visitors. Beeswax for polish, which blew out almost half their budget.

Doe-eyed looks poured in from the LARPers' booth, and had they been the types to rest on one planet, there would have been serious consideration.

A few hours past noon, the sword fights began from the local academy, and Lug was dragged over by Anode as soon as the sound of clashing metal was heard. They were invited to join the amateur trials (humans often assumed all Cybertronians were involved with the war), where they fought against each other (poorly, neither had experience, Lug losing on a technicality), and another Cybertronain attendee dressed in armour from a more eastern country (both thoroughly trounced even 2-on-1, the bot had clearly been a combatant). Having exhausted themselves with laughter and shared some smuggled engex with the other bot, they parted ways to enjoy the plot up near the stage.

There was some on-the-fly mental translation going on as they watched, far more closely than had been intended, as they attempted to parse the calcified clichés and plot beats. Such styles of play often left gaps that were easily filled by audiences familiar with them, but left others a bit in the dust. Both Lug and Anode were very experienced with it, but organics had never made it easy.

The area was them dismissed after the curtains had closed and the clapping had stopped, and checking the schedule left them excited — dancing.

The dance teacher, an older male with long, braided facial hair dressed up as Geralt from a foreign book series, was a bit bewildered at teaching two students ten times his size, but took it in stride. Each heavy step of the conjuges made the adjacent couples stumble, and it took a while to move light enough that they weren't sabotaging the other dancers. Soon, cast members came to fill the gaps as the waltz shifted into a jig, and a member with a tightly curled beard and darker skin (apparently titled "Balderdash the Wizard" (Anode suspected it was not his real name)) came to teach them. Both femmes sadly stepped out as they didn't want to shake down the performance tent.

Once again they enjoyed the company of the other bot, who happily showed them his very real, very sharp Cybertronian blade as the sun eased down, and slowly they were all rounded up by the jester to clear the field. It would begin again tomorrow morning, and perhaps they should practise their dancing before they returned. That had been embarrassing.