referees: (saso 2016)
SASO Referees ([personal profile] referees) wrote in [community profile] sportsanime2016-07-07 08:59 pm
Entry tags:

Bonus Round 4: Quotes

Bonus Round 4: Quotes

A shipping olympics favorite, this round uses quotes of all sorts to fuel your creative endeavors.

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on July 21 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

  • Submit prompts by commenting to this post with a quote attributed to a specific person or character, along with any ship/ot3/etc. from one of our nominated fandoms.
    • Example: "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - M. Gandhi
    • The quote can come from anywhere. Famous people, poetry, songs, books, movies, your neighbor, etc.
    • Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Makoto & Rin). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Makoto/Rin). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
  • Fill prompts by replying to the prompt with your quote-inspired fanwork.
  • Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.

Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.

Required Work Minimums:
  • 400 words (prose)
  • 400px by 400px (art)
  • 14 lines (poetry)
There is no max work cap.

Format your comment in one of the following ways:

  • Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to, including Grandstand or Sports Teams
  • Place the prompt's relationship in the first bolded line of the comment. Including the canon isn't required, but it's nice.
  • Below that, place applicable major content tags (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none")
  • Visual example
  • Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to
  • Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
  • Place applicable major content tags and word count before your fill (when applicable)
  • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY as a new, unchaptered work. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of the fill in your comment.
  • To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/>
  • Visual example
  • Replace RATING with the rating of your fill, G - E, as explained in the rules
  • Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable
  • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY as a new, unchaptered work. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of your work in your comment.
  • To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" />
  • Visual example

Posts not using this format will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, regardless of what they contain. They, like all comments in this community, are subject to the code of conduct.

These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many prompts/fills as you want!

For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)

For fills:

First 3 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each

All scored content must be created new for this round.

If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only.

Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
catlarks: (SASO: Cards)


[personal profile] catlarks 2016-07-21 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
tags: none
Word Count: 1,145

Here, take it, a first meeting in some kind of nebulous business AU.


It is 6:53 in the morning.

On a train platform several stops outside Tokyo, morning has already dawned clear and bright. The station is crowded with bodies waiting for the express train that will take them into the city, bodies in suits or skirts and with their heads ducked down, many of them staring at the screen of a phone held in their hand. Most are standing. One man sits alone toward one side of the platform. He's reading a newspaper.

Miyuki Kazuya weaves his way through the crowd, pushing out into the thin breath of space surrounding the bench and its occupant. The seat beside the man is empty; Miyuki drops himself onto the bench and takes it.

He cranes his neck, peering over the man's shoulder with no attempt at subtlety. The newspaper is held open to the business section; Miyuki skims half a headline, then rolls his eyes.

"Business news is always the same," he says, "don't you think?"

For a moment there's no response from his seatmate, nothing save the slow motion of his eyes moving back and forth, back and forth, scanning down the page as he reads. But then the eyes lift, pinning Miyuki with their steady, amber gaze.

"I read it for the nuances," the man says.

Of course Takigawa Chris Yuu would say something like that. Two out of the three articles on the page are about him — or they are when a body knows how to read between the lines. His company is doing well. Miyuki had read that in the news himself, gulped down along with his breakfast in isolated bites, bits and pieces he gets from the internet. Miyuki prefers to read his news online; it's more dynamic, less stuck in the past. But someone like Takigawa, head of a company in the fortune 500, someone like that would like the trappings of news, the paper, the ink, the newsprint. Someone like that appreciates something he can hold.

Miyuki also appreciates things he can hold in his hands, concrete and substantive and real. He likes them to be things more weighty than newspapers.

"Flip to the sports section," Miyuki suggests. "I'd like to know how the Giants did in their last game."

When Chris turns the page, Miyuki is forced to hide the surprise that threatens to blossom across his face. He wasn't expecting his demand to be catered to; he was asking simply to hear the refusal, to navigate the conversation he's initiating through the negatives, as if in silhouette. Chris allows him no such chance.

"Not well," Chris says. "They lost, by four runs."

"Did they," Miyuki says. It isn't quite a question.

Chris' eyes lift again, looking at Miyuki from over top of his paper. Miyuki stares back, stares into the face of one of the most important men in their country — when it comes to matters of finance — and weighs what he sees. If he hadn't recognized Chris from those photos on the internet, from the news articles he's been chewing through and digesting for weeks, he never would have known Chris was anything more than the typical salaryman, headed into Tokyo on his morning commute.

The moment passes, and Chris looks down at the paper in his hands. "They bit off more than they could chew, from the sound of it," he says. "They played well in the early game, and took whatever opportunities were there to score. But their defense fell apart in the sixth inning. And in the eighth, that was when they made their game-ending mistake."

The way Chris says that, mistake, gives Miyuki a moment of pause. He's walking a similar line to the one between victory and loss, toeing the division between what's believable as a chance meeting, and what's giving himself away. Chris doesn't usually take the train into the city. Miyuki knows this, because someone close to Chris knows this. But today, today Chris did. Today, Miyuki was here to meet him.

"You wear it well," Miyuki says. His hand waves at Chris, a loose gesture that takes in all of him, from the slicked-back hair to the smart cut of his suit to the particular lines and angles of his face. "Being a millionaire, I mean."

The pause that draws out then is a lengthy one, heavy with a discomfort that wasn't present before.

"You say 'millionaire' so that it sounds like a dirty word," Chris finally says. "But not, I would hazard, as if you begrudge me for it."

"Of course not," Miyuki says. "I would never begrudge a man the wealth that he's earned."

He sticks out his hand, presenting it to Chris for a shake. Chris stares at it a moment, as if he's the one weighing some line he hasn't yet decided whether or not to cross. Then he takes it, fingers closing around Miyuki's and giving a firm squeeze.

"Miyuki Kazuya," he says, by way of introduction. "Entrepreneur."

"Are you about to make me a business proposition?" Chris asks. He doesn't offer his name in return; he doesn't need to. They are both well aware Miyuki knows who he is.

"Nah," Miyuki says. He crosses his arms behind his head, leans back against the bench. "Just wanted to introduce myself."

"And ask about the baseball scores?"

"And pay you a compliment! The suit looks good on you. Very befitting of someone in your position."

"Have you ever paid someone a compliment that wasn't a backhanded insult?" Chris asks. "I suspect I felt the sting in that one firsthand."

"Not if I can help it," Miyuki says. He's grinning, just a little bit. For an uptight businessman with piles of money, Chris has a better sense of humor than he'd thought to expect. It's buried, beneath the corporate business image. But it's there, under the surface like a heartbeat thrumming beneath the skin.

Chris is looking at him again, that appraising, weighing stare like he's wondering whether Miyuki really only spoke to him to ask about the baseball scores, to introduce himself, to insert himself into Chris' field of vision without asking for anything more. He's thinking it, that much Miyuki is sure of. But he never asks the question.

"I think your train is here," Miyuki says, as other people begin milling around the platform, moving restlessly in anticipation of the train pulling into the station.

"My train?" Chris asks. "But not yours?"

"Nah," Miyuki says, continuing to lean back against the bench, continuing to look over at Chris even as he stands and Miyuki must tip his head back. "I'm not going to Tokyo."

He can feel the weight of Chris' gaze pressing down on him, heavy with a new question he won't have time to ask. The doors of the train swish open behind Chris, and Miyuki gives him a little wave.

"It has been interesting to meet you, Miyuki Kazuya," Chris says. "I won't be surprised if we meet again."