Transmigration 9: Brave New Worlds

Pan-fandom, SciFi, and Screwed-Up


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Multiverse's Next Top Model: Shoot Somebody Who Outdrew You
meat_mooks wrote in trans_9
[OOC: Backdated to before System Shock.]

The TV lights up in La Casa Smize.

Two contestants remain. Now you must fight to the death to become the Multiverse's Next Top Model.

Fiercely in Love,
Tyrant Banks
Disclaimer: Please remember that Multiverse's Next Top Model, Tyrant Banks, Modelesque Entertainmet, and all associates and producers do not encourage violence between contestants unless it boosts ratings and long-term viability for the models in question.


Rachel and Ruffnut are then ushered to their final runway challenge and photoshoot.

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[Any threading between Rachel and Ruffnut, without NPC interruption, goes here. Feel free to set it up however you like! Chatting in La Casa, backstage, etc.]

It felt so strange to think that she had made it so far, when she thought about what these sorts of contests were supposed to be like.

But as t was, she was here. Proud warrior, overcoming all tasks put before her.

She was spending extra time on her hair now that someone had taught her how to make it look "Fierce" but not girly. When she brushed it out there was so much of it, she felt powerful thinking of it blowing behind her in the wind, singed by her lightning or soaked and heavy with the blood of her enemies.

Speaking of enemies...the girl who had helped her win the last round was the final obstacle on her path to the top. Whoever won Stacy would win, but as a matter of pride she would give Rachel her best.

'Fighting to the death,' admittedly, was more interesting material than normally presented in modelling competitions. Rachel was just glad she didn't have to go on about world peace or something.

Though really, she was also proud of having met the challenges. She was too determined to quit now. And definitely too set in this to let Ruffnut win.

"Gotta say, I'd rather it be you and not one of the others who were here." There were worse choices. Though she would have liked the chance to pound Sirius without holding back.

Ruff nodded in agreement. "When this is over we oughta hang out more. I'll show you my lair, introduce you to my err-" She blushed a little "Girlfriend" She was still so unsure about using the term it felt weird coming out of her mouth. But there was no sense in hiding it really.

"You'd like her. She's like us you know? A warrior."

That was the thing. Ruffnut could tell the more she watched Rachel that underneath that flawless skin was a viking woman. It was something in the way she held herself, something in the cold stares she had given the judges. Ruffnut could recognize one of her own and Rachel would have fit in perfectly on Berk.

Jay gives each of the girls a big, invasive hug. He smells vaguely like coconut oil and suntan lotion, not to mention hair gel. Then he scoots them off to hair and makeup.

The shoot itself should appeal to both models, as they're to dress as warrior princesses with shields, breastplates and....miniskirts. And somehow they're supposed to look like warriors with their midriffs bared and while selling CoverGirl lip gloss and pouting sexily.

But surely these two young ladies can manage that.

[Tag in and set up your own subthreads. I'll tag back with NPCs.]

Ruffnut finally felt in her element as she strut onto the scene in leather and steel. She may have felt a little exposed because of the way the armor was designed, but she had thrown shame by the wayside long ago.

Using a spear and shield she was the picture of a Valkyrie.

And it didn't hurt that she provided her own special effects as lightning burst from her spear butt when she slammed it to the ground. Her hair flew wildly like the howling winds were sweeping it back, but her struggles to learn proper hair care was paying off.

Jay titters behind the camera and gives pointless advice like "catch the light with your hair" and "look deadly but not angry, like a warrior but not battle-hardened". He oohs and ahhs at the lightning, although Ruffnut's weaves smoke a little and one of the stylists has to excuse herself to redo her hair.

"That. Was. Fabulous!" Jay gushes after the shoot. "Now go kill it on the runway! But don't actually kill it!" He's contractually obligated to disclaim that.

Rachel, on the other hand, is not so thrilled about the concept of the miniskirt, the bared midriff, and the lip gloss pouting. Even if the whole ensemble has a kind of 'Xena' vibe to it.

She'd have to throttle Marco before he is ever allowed to know she thought that.

With a fierce and determined walk onto the runway, Rachel hoists her weapon up confidently and determinedly. She can totally mix grace with ferocity, right? She swings herself into a 'ready for battle' pose, once she's close to the end of the walk.

"I want you to look just a little vulnerable, Rochelle." Jay instructs her from behind the camera. "Like the wilting flower forced to fight, but who secretly hates the war and only wants her Romeo to gallop home and fly away with her."

So yes, Rachel, parse that mixed simile and look both fierce and sad. Basically, be Cassie.

The models are shooed off to the backstage, still in their warrior regalia, where they will find that the runway...is actually a racetrack.

And they're to be in bumper cars.

With jousting swords.

To be aimed at each other.

The judges sit atop golden thrones. Talleyho's muumuu drapes down the steps almost to the runway. Noted Fashion Photographer Nigel is practically salivating. Jay joins them and rubs his hands together with glee.

Tyrant sips white wine from a golden skull. "Walk." Or scoot. Whatever.

Make it fierce, girls.

[Ruffnut and Rachel, tag each other like mad!]

... Seriously?

Though really, after the chicken stuff and the other challenges, she can't really complain much.

Rachel raises and eyebrow at the fact that it's a racetrack but she's not exactly about to stop short now.

She turns to Ruffnut and simply says "bring it."

Ruffnut cackled at the challenge, her blood starting to pump. Finally! A challenge that came with a threat other then humiliation. The adrenaline in her blood began to flow as she floored the accelerator on the bumpercar and it lurched forward towards Rachel. To someone on the outside of the scene it was a mediocre top speed for any vehicle, but behind the wheel holding the lance solid it was breathtaking.

The judges sit upon their thrones, which seem to get bigger and golder and more filigreed with each different judging. Tyrant's skull-cup has apparently been swapped out for an entire skeleton, which clinks against the floor when she drinks from it.

[Tag and the judges will deliver their verdict.]

Ruffnut looked exhilarated after the battle with her worthy opponent Rachel. The make up artist and costumer had of course had their way with her once again making sure that while she had the signs of battle, she was still extremely presentable for the camera.

She'd almost forgotten about the competition.

Rachel, for her own part, was somewhere between indignant and smug. Ruffnut had done way more to her than she had expected (warrior or not), but the battle had been fun.

And maybe part of her was anticipating what they decision was going to be.

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