( march event ) mad skillz

[officialnotice]

EVENT: MAD SKILLZ

The flyers were everywhere. Slipped into mailboxes and taped to windows, these yellow sheets of paper are more than ready to catch a few eyes. That parking ticket you thought you got, tucked under your wiper blade? Nope, that's another flyer. (It goes without saying that each public trash can holds at least a few.)

Honestly, it's nearly impossible to live in the town of Wayward Pines and not know of the Skills Fair being hosted in a park north of where most of you live on this upcoming Saturday. Whether or not you choose to attend is entirely up to you.

Venture toward the park on 3rd and Alder anytime between 11 AM and 5 PM, and a colorful assortment of tents will greet you, from which drifts the buzz of conversation and a small assortment of downright delicious smells. The first few tents - the largest by a decent margin - are the food court and the sign-in desk for anyone looking to teach. It's far from mandatory, but a volunteer from the tent makes a lap every so often to make note of those who didn't sign up, for a full list of skills that newcomers can show up and learn. The food court hosts your typical limited variety of BBQ and pseudo-cultural foods, good for a quick bite and respite from a long day of sharing skills.

The rest of the park hosts a scattered grid of smaller tents and booths in varying colors. At first glance, they seem to be free for use - even since you've arrived, one or two people have strolled in off the street to set up one booth or another with relevant teaching supplies. Feel free to claim one for yourself, or maybe just stroll through the park and see what there is to be learned.

Taped to a tree or tent every so often is a request for those offering to teach any excessively loud or alarming skills (like firearm proficiency) to take their pupils to the makeshift shooting range set up two blocks north for the occasion. It's nothing special, a series of near-pristine targets in an unnecessarily large area taped off with bright yellow safety ribbon, but it's more of a shooting range than the town had before. Any other skill in need of some sort of target is also welcome to use the range, if they need it. In fact, it may be a wise alternative to trying to teach knife-throwing or archery in the park; below the request is a warning, stating that in the case of any injuries sustained at the Skills Fair, deliberate or accidental, the individual who caused the wound will be held responsible as if they committed assault. If that's not incentive to be a little more careful, what is?

Additionally, on the side of the sign-in tent and pinned to a tree facing each of the surrounding streets is a copy of the Official Notice, framed and enlarged at 1.5x, in case anyone might forget.

Might want to keep it in mind. You never know who might be listening.

MOD NOTES

This is a catch-all for any and all threads pertaining to the Skills Fair!

PLEASE INCLUDE IN SUBJECT LINE: Character Name, Skill Being Taught if applicable, and Open or Closed, to help keep things a bit more organized. (For example: "Joe Biden | Teaching: How to become a meme | Open!")

If you have any questions regarding this event, feel free to ask them here.

Comments

10K | Teaching: plant identification | open

[overfivethousand]

booth:

[He's not exactly much of one for teaching, but even in the month and a half he's been in town (a number he's careful not to mention out loud, but one that he keeps very firmly in his mind) 10K's noticed some embarrassing incidents coming into the hospital. There's clearly a need for this sort of thing, not to mention the fact that if you have the right knowledge, you could probably survive for a while in the woods outside of the sheriff's surveillance. At least for a day or three.

So here he is, set up at a booth with some photographs and some plant samples clearly labeled in messy block capitals, leaning his elbows on the table and watching the crowd while he waits for anyone interested in what he's got to teach. There's a sign on the table, too, in that same messy lettering: "IS THIS POISON IVY? HOW TO RECOGNIZE DANGEROUS PLANTS". He'll stick around for probably an hour or so before he wanders off, leaving his booth in search of other things.]

range:

[10K was born with a gun in his hand. Okay, not really; he didn't learn how to shoot until he was like ten, and even then he really didn't like to do it. It's been a necessary skill, though, and one it's turned out he's pretty good at, and now...well. Shooting gives him a zen feeling a lot of other things don't. When he's got his rifle in hand, or his slingshot, it's just him and the target. Everything else doesn't matter as much. Which is why when he hears about a range, and something about marksmanship lessons or a sharpshooting competition, he can't resist. You can find him on the line with his slingshot in hand, hitting a string of easy bullseyes or close enough to count. Showing off? No. Not him, never.]

food tent:

[Every growing boy needs food, and he still eats like he doesn't know where his next meal is going to come from. Judging by his lack of regular employment, he might not be wrong. But hey, it's mostly pretty good, if you ignore the congealed macaroni and cheese over in the corner. He's in good enough spirits to even offer some advice:]

You should definitely try the barbecue.

food tent

[inventor]

( after an hour at his booth (where howard hangs upside drinking vodka pretty much the entire time), he calls for an intermission. howard stumbles through the disappointed crowd and promises them that act ii will begin... as soon as howard stops seeing four of everything. his stomach overpowers his brain and guides him towards the smell of food. without knowing it, howard soon finds himself in a line, paper plate in hand and being served spoonfuls of potato salad and baked beans. a stack of brisket plops down on his plate by a guy wearing sunglasses (even though they're inside). next to him, someone says that the bbq is worth trying and, before howard can even get a good look at the food, he mutters, ) I would. If the tire marks weren't so obvious.

( bbq pancakes. groovy )

[overfivethousand]

It's not that bad.

[Actually, it mostly...just looks like generic barbecue that's been sitting out over a warmer for several hours, which probably isn't the most appealing thing to most people, but the sauce is alright. Probably. Whatever, it isn't poison and it's hot, he'll take it. 10K shrugs, heaping his own plate of seconds.]

Most of this stuff's pretty alright, actually, especially if you put enough sauce on it. I wouldn't try the jello salad, though. Trust me.

[Who knew gelatinous desserts could look that ominous?]

booth

[oncekind]

[Wandering the fair, Jiaying smiles when she spots 10K and comes over to take a look at the photographs. She picks one up, studying it for a moment before saying]

This is fireweed, correct?

booth

[overfivethousand]

Hey, you've got a good eye.

[10K offers her a grin, moving a little closer to look at the picture.]

Yeah, I wasn't too surprised to see it here--it pops up a lot in areas like this that get pretty dry during the summer. You know a lot about plants?

Emily Grey | First Aid | Open

[greyaria]

[This seems like a nice, civic-minded thing to do...also practical, because once you've seen someone trying to administer CPR for a bullet wound to the head, you get a little worried about what might happen come the day you're the one bleeding.

At her booth, Emily has one of those big safety orange EMT bags and a stack of photocopied packets of instruction sheets. The page for the Heimlich maneuver has one of the procedures crossed out, WILL CAUSE INTERNAL INJURIES!!! scrawled across the top in large letters with, yes, three exclamation points. On every copy. Apparently she did her edits on the master sheet. Whether anyone at the hospital knows she did it is a different story.

While she waits for students, Emily has her feet propped up on the table and is reading a book, laughing occasionally. That's not the weird part. The weird part is that it's an astrophysics textbook.]

[bulletfool]

[Izumi wanders the booths with a juice box, slurping his way through the park. He slows down to glance at the handouts whenever there are any, and this table is no exception – the all caps message with a copious number of exclamation points is hard to ignore. Even harder to brush off, however, is the laughter as he snaps his head up and squints.]

Is that actually a book on astrophysics?

[Maybe it's a cover to hide something else, because that's weird.]

[greyaria]

Sure is!

[She turns the book around to display a page of math.]

They're wrong about planetary accretion disks.

[Emily is in fact wearing a lab coat with a hospital ID identifying her as a medical doctor clipped to the lapel. Maybe the astrophysics is a hobby.]

[overfivethousand]

[Hey, first aid. That definitely seems like the kind of skill a person should be picking up at a place like this. 10K might not recognize the woman behind the table if she's not wearing her armor, but he'll stop anyway with a small quirk of a smile.]

Are you...teaching classes? Or just giving out flyers?

[greyaria]

[Emily sits up straight, setting down her textbook next to the stack of papers.]

Teaching! The handouts are solely for reference.

[Well, that voice is familiar.]

[oncekind]

Is the book that amusing, Emily?

[Jiaying doesn't appear to be hosting her own booth but she is wandering around to see what everyone else has to offer]

Rachel Morgan | Teaching: Self defense | Open

[smuttywitch]

[Rachel's remembered enough now to know that she kicks butt. She's annoyed that she can't show off her splatgun skills--especially since she's got the empty splat balls sitting on her counter just mocking her--but since she's trying to stay in the broom closet until she's got a better read on people, it's probably a good thing she can't dose anyone with sleepytime potion.

Besides, she worked hard for that black belt, might as well put it to use.

She can be found demonstrating the best way to kick or punch someone without breaking yourself in the process, how to headbutt a guy to break his nose or at least get him to let go so you can get free, that sort of thing. She even has a few papers with instructional images printed out for people to take back with them. Ivy would be proud.

She's still wearing the leather pants that had been in her things after she got out of the hospital, although she's changed out the tank top for a long sleeved t-shirt so she can more easily hide her hair-taming charm, which along with the fact her hair is now in a ponytail makes her look much less like something the eighties forgot to take when it left. Overall she looks relaxed and totally in her element, and despite the sheen of sweat and the fact she's showing off how to beat someone up, she makes sure to give a welcoming smile to anyone who happens to pass by, and a bit of a wave if they stop to really watch. She might give particularly encouraging smiles to any men who happen by, hoping to have someone willing to volunteer to better demonstrate some of the techniques]

[overfivethousand]

[10K doesn't do much hand-to-hand combat. He remembers that much, even if he doesn't remember what exactly it was he'd spent those three years fighting. Usually, they never got close enough. He could handle a knife well enough, throw a punch without breaking a fist, but that was pretty much the extent of it. The rest, those few close encounters he blurrily remembers surviving, have all been dumb luck, adrenaline, and the gangly limbs of a teenager.

It probably wouldn't hurt to stop and watch at least a lesson or two, right? Which is exactly what he's doing now, hands in the pockets of his parka as he shifts his weight from one boot to the other, goggles around his neck half-buried under a wool scarf. When she waves, he's a little unsure what exactly to do, but his hand is lifting and waving back before he's exactly made up his mind. Whoops.]

[comic_relief]

<sub>[Day eleven. Almost two weeks in this place he now knows he shouldn't be in.

For Jack's part, enough of his repressed memories have rolled in like a storm cloud finally ready to drop its payload like last week's hailstorm that he can see clearly what he'd only suspected before: Wayward Pines is wrong. The names of countries and towns are wrong, the peaceful streets are wrong, the people are wrong, his memories are wrong--and around every corner, a notice paper with its shady rules is ready to mock him for it.

The Skills Fair presents a good opportunity for observing the observers, and it's the main reason Jack makes an appearance. He dresses casually in jeans and a jacket, after having used the cash reserves he apparently had "before" the accident to purchase a change of clothes, and the effect is that of an averagely-dressed teenager you wouldn't look twice at in a crowd. It's more casual than he's used to, but beggars can't be choosers. Beggars trying to blend especially.

Circling the park, he watches people interacting at a distance, gaze drifting to a camera on a post or a streetlight every so often--now that he's picked up on them, they're easier to notice. (And easier to be careful of. They still have his katana in lock-up and he'll be needing that back.) Eventually his recon sends him into the path of Rachel's booth. Picking up one of her instructional pamphlets, it's with a dull stab of homesickness that he looks it over, partly for something to do with his hands, partly out of curiosity. It could be a page pulled straight from his childhood lessons, back when they were just learning their punches and blocks.

They.

Fighting is something he knows so well it's like breathing--but it'd always been with a group. With them. With Class Zero. One stab isn't good enough--homesickness picks up a knife and goes to town, inflicting multiple stab wounds on his feelings. Hello, 9-1-1, he has people he needs to get back to but he can't, and it sucks.

Inwardly sighing, he goes back to watching, and in between demonstrations, he trades smiles with the redhead leading the instruction.]</sub>

Smooth moves.

_{[A week ago, he might not been in the right state of mind, memory-wise, to appreciate the evidence of long hours of practice in her technique, but now he can.]}

[dragoness]

[ off to the side there's a horned girl standing no more than five feet tall — well, when you subtract the horns and her four inch heels, that is — leaning against a ... lance? it looks like a lance, but there's weird twisting metal at the tip and something like a microphone at the other end. it's extremely weird, and completely unbalanced, but eliza's leaning against it like it's no big deal, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth like a cat's. ]

Haaah, these moves are useless if you have beauty, magic, and weaponry at your disposal. [ despite her words, her tone is thoughtful. ]

ignis scientia | teaching: cookery | open

[chauffeuring]

booth

[ Originally Ignis wasn't even going to attend the event, opting to stay behind at the restaurant and get some extra prep time in. It's halfway through a second batch of onions that he realizes that everyone will be at said fair and more than likely not coming in for food and so he soon finds himself the owner of a stall offering to teach others how to cook. There's only a limited amount of space and utensils available (not to mention a small camping style stove with two burners), so the recipe selection itself is dialed back to basics. There are no super five star dishes here, more like omelettes, pancakes and other basics that always seem to stick to the bottom of someone else's pans. He's more than fine with upping the ante should someone ask how specific things are made, though.]

food court

[ At some point Ignis has moved away from his own stall in favour of getting a bite to eat, or so he tells himself. Really he's just checking out what's on offer and soon enough he's sitting at one of the tables, pushing some spaghetti around his plate with a fork. Apparently the signage had said bolognese, but the mess that had been put before him is dubious on that claim to say the least and Ignis can't help the reluctant expression on his face. It would be rude not to eat it, he just doesn't know if anyone will survive doing just that and he's so distracted by it all that he won't even notice if anyone sits opposite him or comes over to say hello to begin with.]

booth

[vdova]

[ Natasha's at the fair to take in the sights, making mental notes of of the people in town and what it is they can do. Just in case. That healthy sense of paranoia that she's had ever since she woke up here a month ago hasn't left, only steadily growing the more she notices about the town.

She stops at the cooking booth much like she does all the others, ostensibly to observe for a brief moment, but this one she lingers at, watching Ignis ply his trade with actual interest. She smiles at him when he glances her way, nodding towards his pancakes. ] You make it look easy.

( BOOTH )

[linkstrike]

[ in the end, it's the smell of cooking food that gets him.

the skills fair itself turns out to be more overwhelming than noctis had expected -- full of unfamiliar noises and smells, and complete with enough of a crowd to make him feel a little dizzy. his head is still more than a little fuzzy from the accident, so it's hard to remember if places like this used to be his scene, but... he isn't exactly feeling it now, that's for sure.

but he's looking for people, and this has to be a pretty good place to start, right?

... too bad all he's really managed to accomplish is a bunch of dazed (and useless) wandering around. but there's something remotely familiar about the smell of cooking in the air -- does it remind him of someone? of home, maybe? -- so he lets himself be drawn towards it like a moth to the flame. the guy running the booth has his back towards him when noctis finally approaches, probably focused on whatever he's doing at the stove, so. a little awkwardly, noctis clears his throat. ]

Hey. Smells good. [ a pause, already vaguely embarrassed. even to him, that sounded lame. ] Uh, the food, I mean.

booth!

[dragoness]

[ being a creature of magic, eliza doesn't normally have any use for things like eating. however, here in this town she is without a master, and since humans have this thing against killing others (she should know, she remembers her own death and the many others she's caused), she has to look for other means of keeping her energy up. ]

Hey, hey, you're pretty good with that!

[ that doesn't mean she's going to learn how to cook, god no. instead she's leaning over the booth inspecting the food, having watched ignis go about cooking and showing others what to do. ]

I've got an idea: how about you come to my house and cook for me!

[ eliza no ]

Booth; after ten thousand years

[sirnyxalot]

[He hadn't really been planning on learning anything today. On top of his fuzzy memories he'd still only recently gotten out of the hospital. Most of what people were teaching seemed to require two hands.

But an interesting smell hits his nose, making his stomach growl with startling force. He pauses to look for the source and spies Ignis just a few booths down. Nyx wanders over, curious. Did he know how to cook? He couldn't remember. He'd been living on hospital food and snacks since he woke up from the accident. You'd think he'd know something though, right? He couldn't have raised Jack on instant noodles.

He hopes.

Nyx forgets to say hi when he approaches. Just lurks quietly and watches Ignis work. His eyebrows knit together in a slight frown as he struggles to remember...well, anything, really.]

howard stark | teaching: a variety of things | open

[inventor]

( come one, come all! step right up! see howard stark fold and throw the perfect paper airplane! witness howard makes infinitesimal calculus his bitch! stare in amazement as he solves a rubik's cube in under 5 seconds while hanging upside down and drinking vodka through a straw! scratch your head until it is raw and bloody as howard does the impossible and plays three octaves across four strings in a hand span!

and you — yes you! — can learn these skills by stopping at howard's booth. once the waiver of liability is signed. hurry! and he will also teach you how to cheat at poker for no additional cost! and, as an added bonus, you could also learn how to talk your way out of having your thumbs broken after being caught cheating at poker! WOW! all this for the low, low payment of absolutely nothing! you can't get a better deal than that!

act now! supplies are limited! )

[bulletfool]

( a glimpse of the rubik's cube on his way around the park stops izumi in his tracks. what is this booth even teaching? the show howard puts on is impressive – stunningly pointless and unnecessary, yet impressive still. it's enough to drop izumi's jaw open, if by a little. )

Whoa! How long did that take?

( he'd been passing by, but it must've been a few seconds at best. that's cool.

who cares about poker. )

Noah Czerny | Teaching: Skateboarding | Open

[smudging]

( booth : SKATEBOARDING 101 )

[ Noah doesn't have many skills, so to speak. He doesn't speak any other languages fluently (he remembers bits and pieces of Latin, but that's only useful if they decide to travel back to 6th century Rome. And he doubts that is going to happen.), he doesn't play any instruments well (unless the recorder back in Elementary School counted for anything.) and, all in all, he does averagely when it comes to anything else academic.

The one thing that he does pride himself on, though? His ability to balance on a tiny plank of wood attached to four wheels.

Which is exactly where you'll find him. His booth set up on an unoccupied slab of concrete, the words 'SKATEBOARDING : THE OTHER TRANSPORTATION' drawn in large bubble letters to the best of Noah's ability (and, yes, it did take him almost all night to come up with that clever slogan.) on a banner draped across the small table. He isn't seated at the booth, however, but somewhere a short distance away, practicing tricks on his board (possibly showing off a little.) between allowing younger children to try their hand at it as well. ]

( food tent )

[ At some point, Noah completely abandons his booth -- though, not without leaving a poorly written note of: Lunch! Be right back! -- in search of food. The smell of burgers and hot dogs had been wafting its way over to where he'd been all afternoon and his stomach has had about enough of the teasing torture.

It's typical cookout food; burgers, dogs, potato salad, macaroni and cheese. Then there's some kind of questionable looking gelatin that someone informs him is called Ambrosia salad and that's exactly where he's stopped for the moment, both of his brows furrowed together in confusion as he looks at the seafoam green, jiggling mess. ]

I don't think it's supposed to look like that...

[ He's not speaking to anyone in particular, just saying the words out loud. ]

( wildcard )

[ Got a better idea? Throw it my way! Will match styles and such. ]

booth

[inventor]

( after spending most of the day drinking vodka through a straw (while also hanging upside down on the monkey bars), secretly taking sips of whiskey from the poker exhibit, and chugging two beers during lunch (of bbq pancakes and potato salad), howard is definitely well on his way to being three sheets to the wind. with a staggering jaunt, he moseys around the park, looking at the other skill booths and generally taking his time to return to his own skill booth. he passes by a line of booths — one teaching proper brushing techniques, another teaching flower arrangement, and one teaching... skateboarding? what the hell is skateboarding?

howard stops and, with a cockeyed look, studies the tiny plank of wood that the kid has in his hand. in a slightly slurred voice, he asks, ) I presume that's the skateboard I've heard so much about?

booth

[oncekind]

[She sees the booth first before the delighted cries of the children catches her attention. She wanders over to join the small crowd and looks pleasantly surprised when Noah lands a trick.

Whenever it is he's facing the crowd again, she can't help but ask in a slightly playful tone]

That doesn't look very safe.