![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sportsfest_mods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sportsfest2018-07-01 12:02 am
Bonus Round 2: Quotes
Bonus Round 2: Quotes
Sometimes you just have to keep with tradition! Keeping with the SASO roots that SportsFest was born from, Bonus Round 2 is all about quotes.
This bonus round will close on July 13th, 2018 11:59PM PT. [COUNTDOWN]
This Round is CLOSED, but is perpetually open for new FILLS.
Rules
The Rule of Thumb for this round is prominence - did a published author or poet write this line you’d like to quote? Great. Is it from a speech or a historical document? Cool. Did your friend say something funny on twitter the other day? Not so much.
Please DO NOT prompt screenshots of private conversations, Discord convos, or conversations between you and your friends. This can easily and unintentionally bring the prompts into inside joke territory, and can create an exclusionary environment.
Quotes from other SportsFest participants (or yourself) are NOT allowed in this round (for similar reasons to above, and the fact that you could just make anything a quote).
Please give credit to the original speaker of your quote whenever possible.
If prompting with a screenshot, it is polite to post a transcription of the text below the image for accessibility.
Please use your best judgement, and if you’re unsure if something qualifies - ask! The mods are here to help.
And to reiterate, Your prompt MUST include one or more specific nominated fandoms. Please do not prompt "Fandom: Any".
A Few Examples:
“Today is far from Childhood -
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter -
Which shortened all the miles-
- Emily Dickinson, ‘One Sister Have I In Our House’
“Til this moment I never knew myself”
- Elizabeth Bennett, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice
“SHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE!
- Damian, Mean Girls
“It's a quarter past midnight
As we cut through the city”
- Quarter Past Midnight, Bastille
If Prompting
Please use the following subject line for prompt:
Prompt: [Your Team]
Replace [Your Team] with the name of the team you belong to. Nickname or Official Name are both acceptable
Copy/Paste the following into the body of your comment. Delete all instructional text in parentheses.
NSFW Prompts
EXPLICITLY NSFW PROMPTS must be posted to the after-hours comm. “Explicitly NSFW” means that the prompt includes outright sexual content (whether in a photograph, drawing, or in words), and prompts that in the additional requests are asking for explicit fills. Prompts are posted with the same HTML format, in the same manner as a SFW prompt, just under the designated post for that Bonus Round in the after-hours comm. See ‘Filling’ for the procedures for NSFW Fills.
Once you have joined the Afterhours community, you can find the corresponding post HERE.
If Filling
Minimums
Required Work Minimums:
400 words (prose)
400px by 400px (art)
14 lines (poetry)
There is no max work cap.
Format
FILL: [Your Team], [Rating]
Replace [Your Team] with the name of the team you belong to. Nickname or Official Name are both acceptable
Replace [Rating] with the rating of your fill (G-E).
Copy/Paste the following into the body of your comment. Delete all instructional text in parentheses.
NSFW Fills
All NSFW fills must be posted in the corresponding Bonus Round post in the After Hours community. If filling a prompt that has been posted on the after-hours comm, simply reply to that prompt. If filling a SFW prompt, let the prompter know by replying to the original prompt on the main comm with a link to your fill on the corresponding after-hours Bonus Round Post. Please do not use the Fill subject line or Fill header when cross-linking. This will cause the BR scorer to count your fill twice.
Once you have joined the Afterhours community, you can find the corresponding post HERE.
Scoring
The scoring for bonus rounds depends on the number of people (n) on your team. You’re welcome to make as many prompts and fills as you like!
For prompts: 5 points per prompt, limited to 5 times the number of team members (5n)
For fills, where (n) = number of members on you team:
First 5n fills: 20 points each
Fills 5n to 10n: 10 points each
Fills 10n to 15n: 5 points each
All fills after 15n: 2 points each
Confused? Don’t worry; math is hard. Check out the Bonus Round Point Widget to help you figure out the point scale for your team.
All scored content must be created new for this round.
FILL: Team Knife Emoji, G
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: beginnings, annoying senpais, ship is there if you believe...
Word Count: 956
Remix Permission: Yup.
A/N: Harder than I thought despite the lines being absolutely perfect for them.
***
It had been a shitty practice, made worse by the appearance of the third years. After the last game, they’d not shown up to every session, recognising the compelling need for Seijou to rebuild. If they dropped by, it would be for the lunch session, Oikawa leading the fray and offering to toss, or to serve and help the first years with receives.
But that morning, just as Yahaba opened the door five minutes before seven, his four former teammates bowled up together.
“We can’t make lunchtime,” Oikawa explained, “as we have Guidance meetings.”
“This is okay, right?” Iwaizumi asked.
“We won’t get in the way,” Hanamaki assured him. “I just need a work out.”
“And you know me,” Matsukawa added. “I’m here for the ramen.”
“I am not buying ramen,” Oikawa insisted and pushing past them all he stomped to the changing room.
Already nervous because he’d wanted to try something new with his toss, Yahaba became ham-fisted, over-extending several times, and Kunimi who hated at the best of times, let alone this early hour, to chase for a ball became sludgy with his efforts, glowering under his curtained fringe.
Which drove Kyoutani mad.
“Hit the fucking ball!” he yelled. “Jeez, chase for it, you jerk!”
“Rich coming from the guy who refuses to be decoy,” Kindaichi muttered.
“What was that?!” Kyoutani whiplashed to face him. “Got something to say?”
“Captain,” Oikawa cooed to Yahaba. “Would you like me to ask Iwa-chan to help?”
“No, it’s my issue,” Yahaba replied and pressed his palms together. “I can deal.”
“Issue! I’M the problem now!” Kyoutani yelled, striding across the gym.
“Cool it!” Iwaizumi stood between them, hands ready to push Kyoutani away.
And that should be my job. Unclenching his fists, Yahaba took a side step and tried a smile. “That’s not what I meant, Kyoutani-kun.”
“Then what the fuck do you mean? Like, how about you explain it, right now!”
His face a snarl of fury, nose scrunched up and eyes almost disappearing under his brows, it was hard to see beyond the anger, but to stand any chance, Yahaba knew he had to stay cool. Respond with patience.
“It’s the dynamic,” he said clearly, including Kunimi in his glance around the gym. “We’re trying to gel as a team, and we’re not there yet. We’re attempting new things, and there’s always going to be period where that doesn’t come off.”
“It will if we work at it!”
“That’s the spirit, Kindaichi-chan,” Oikawa called. “Right, now I shall toss for Mad-Dog, and you can work with Kunimi-chan.”
“Maybe it’s not such a great idea us being here when the coaches aren’t,” Matsukawa said.
“No, no, I appreciate you dropping by,” Yahaba rushed to reassure. “And, yes, Oikawa-san, if you could work with Mad-Dog for a—”
“Fuck this!” Picking up a ball, Kyoutani stalked to the back of the court, tossed the ball high in the air and leapt.
His shirt gaped, running up his back, and the muscles in his arms rippled with intent. The serve was perfect landing right in the corner of the opposite side of the court, painting the line.
Breathtaking. Literally.
Yahaba gasped.
“That kid’ll never have to buy ramen,” Hanamaki said, grinning.
“Give us another!” Matsukawa cried.
But Kyoutani twisted on his heel and instead of picking up another ball stormed back to the changing room.
My issue, Yahaba thought, and stuck his arm out, stopping Iwaizumi in his tracks.
He had to hold firm, persuade rather than insist Kyoutani returned for the rest of the session, for while the early mornings weren’t compulsory, Yahaba had wanted them to become a habit, a method of bonding without the coaches around to dictate every move. Oikawa had given them all a similar freedom, and it had certainly worked with Kunimi and Kindaichi leapfrogging over the second years to gain places on the first team.
“Mad-Dog,” he began.
“Do not fucking call me that,” spat Kyoutani. He pulled off his shirt, balling it in his hands before throwing into his bag.
“Is this you finished for the morning, then?” Yahaba asked, keeping his voice level. “Will we see you at lunchtime?”
“Guess so.” He trudged towards a a sink in the corner of the changing room, splashing water on his face and on his chest, the rudiments of a wash before scrubbing himself dry with his small sports’ towel.
“Why, though? Why are you walking out now? I thought you liked these sessions.”
“You.”
“Sorry… what?”
“So fucking reasonable! Just fucking yell when we fuck up, right!” He began to get dressed, buttoning up his shirt, using a belt on the trousers, then looping his tie over his head, not yet pulling it tight, but leaving it trailing and uneven down his chest.
“You’d rather I yelled at you?”
“I had more respect when you called me out in the middle of our last match than I’d had in the two years we’ve known each other. Not such a fucking lightweight, I thought.”
“Shouting doesn’t work with everyone,” Yahaba countered. “Just as Oikawa-san’s persuasion never worked with you, and …” He paused, wondering for a moment what had worked with Kyoutani. Oiakwa had brought him back to the fold, but it had been Iwaizumi-san who’d kept him there.
“You like the challenge, don’t you. Pushing against boundaries.” He stepped closer, his hands itching by his sides as he remembered their confrontation how he’d felt such frustration and that had spilled into his slamming Kyoutani against the back wall to tear him off a strip.
But this time Kyoutani didn’t flinch. He stayed exactly where he’d planted his feet, even leaning forwards a touch as if inviting Yahaba to take the first hit.
“Yeah,” he muttered, “I like the challenge. So challenge me, Yahaba-chan!”