referees: (saso 2016)
SASO Referees ([personal profile] referees) wrote in [community profile] sportsanime2016-06-09 08:58 pm
Entry tags:

Bonus Round 2: Images

Bonus Round 2: Images

Back by popular demand, this round uses official canon artwork as fodder for speculation and extrapolation.
Please read the rules carefully before posting!

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on June 23 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

  • Submit prompts in the form of a canon screencap from one of our nominated fandoms along with a ship. Screencaps can be from the anime or manga, as well as any other kind of offshoot media, e.g. official art, drama CD covers, light novel illustrations, magazine covers, photos from stage plays, and/or caps from games.
    • Doujinshi, fan-made games or any other fan-created work should not be prompted, even if you receive permission. Only prompt official, canon artwork.
    • Keep your prompt concise. Don't prompt a whole manga chapter, for example.
    • Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Abe & Tajima). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Abe/Tajima). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
    • Upload the cap somewhere (imgur works well) and post here with the images themselves or a link to them. Including a text-only summary of the image is encouraged.
  • Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work inspired by the cap.
    • Fills can be directly connected to the cap, e.g. panel redraws or writing fic that fleshes out the moment that was capped or that fleshes out what happened directly before/after, but fills can also be more indirectly linked. As long as the work is somehow inspired by the cap, it counts.
    • Fills that are too long to fit in a single comment should have the rest of the fill placed as replies to the original fill comment. The subjects of these extra comments should be something like "part 2 of X" or "continued."
  • 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 2016-06-23 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)
tags: military sci-fi AU, depictions of violence, blood
Word Count: 1,672

Oikawa is waiting, arms crossed, lips smiling, when Kageyama pulls the visor off of his face.

He's breathing hard, chest heaving as if he'd just finished running a marathon. He has as good as done so. The simulation is life or death — kill or be killed, navigate a path through the enemy ambush to bring the team to safety. It overloads the senses. Every burn of weapon's fire across his skin sears his flesh to a sizzling ache; every burst of sound from the machinery is deafening to his ringing ears. The wounds fade when the simulation cuts out, but the adrenaline spike, that's there to stay.

"Do you know what you did wrong?" Oikawa asks, patiently, patronizingly, so that Kageyama's anger rises at the indignity of his pride being stung.

"No," he bites out, clamps his jaw closed to keep himself from saying more.

"Oh, Tobio," Oikawa says, utterly despairing of him. "Whatever will I do with you. How many times have you taken this test?"

Kageyama's teeth grind, swallowing down the number so that it stays lodged in his throat. Oikawa's smile only stretches wider, wide and knowing and amused, because they both know the answer. Nine, nine times Kageyama has tried this test, each time pushing farther, each time lasting longer, every time going down in a blaze of weapons fire he can still feel ripping holes through him once he's back in reality.

Nine times he's attempted the challenge because he isn't someone afraid of working hard, because he isn't someone who's given up. Nine times — more than anyone else in the history of the operation. That's a designation he can't help but feel viciously proud of, while also burning with the shame of failure, failure on every count.

"Too many," Oikawa continues, not waiting long for Kageyama to give him an answer. "You've failed so many times, Tobio-chan, why don't you just give up?"

"I won't," Kageyama insists. "I can do this."

Oikawa's face blanks, eyes blinking wide as if in surprise. He smiles only after, a cleverer twist of his mouth, pulling up from only the right corner. The sight of that smile makes Kageyama want to step back, bending before his superior's amusement, aware that Oikawa's mirth rarely leads into anything good. "Stubborn, stubborn," Oikawa says, so that the smile never leaves his face.

Kageyama holds his ground, if only barely.

"Run me through the simulation," Oikawa says, beginning to walk, pacing slowly past Kageyama as he moves around the chamber. It's circular and empty, a room just big enough to allow the candidate to move, to maneuver, to act out his activities in virtual reality if the physical motions are something he needs.

"From the start," Oikawa adds, when Kageyama doesn't speak up fast enough. "Or should I run it through for you?"

Kageyama bites his tongue, teetering over the choice. The military discipline that's been drilled into him urges him to obedience, to complying with a directive from a senior officer before giving his report. His pride encourages him to do otherwise. And something, something about the light in Oikawa's eyes when he rounds on Kageyama for information, something about that makes him think this is a tale Oikawa wants to be the one to tell.

Kageyama keeps quiet, allowing Oikawa the stage.

"The warning bells sound," Oikawa says. "That's always the beginning of the simulation. The warning bells alert the ship to the commencement of an attack, and you leave your post to investigate the commotion. That is your first mistake. And no—" He holds up a hand when Kageyama opens his mouth, cuts off the interruption he's expecting before he can begin. "No, it doesn't matter that you've run the simulation before and you know what the readouts will tell you. A commander working beneath me doesn't abandon his post. He checks the readouts. He allows his people to call in with their statuses. He takes the calls."

His gaze is heavy on Kageyama, weighty and judging, his disapproval clear enough to chafe. Kageyama bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood, forces himself to keep quiet, to hold back the objections he wants so badly to voice. He's done this nine times, it's maddening to listen to those same reports over and over, to hear again and again how the ship in the simulation is being ripped apart.

Oikawa continues, that smile still on his lips.

"You abandon your post and engage the enemy. You have limited ammunition, and you time your shots well, using it sparingly. You consider the environment you're in and avoid damaging the ship, avoid making any moves which will turn the machinery all around you against you. That's good. That's being a smart soldier."

Despite himself, Kageyama can't help but swell a little with pride at the praise. He is a good soldier, and an excellent marksman. From Oikawa of all people — proud holder of multiple military prizes for marksmanship — saying as much is a high compliment indeed.

"You do not check in with your fellow officers," Oikawa continues. "That... Is not so good, is it, Tobio-chan? You're meant to protect them. They are your team. How can you protect your team if you can't even talk to them?"

The pride Kageyama was feeling evaporates all at once, washed away beneath a cool tide of dread. Oikawa speaks so patiently — condescendingly — his thin little smile turning instead toward a frown. And that's always been Kageyama's weakness, hasn't it? Talking to other soldiers, knowing how to speak to people? Oikawa asks him, how can you protect your team, and Kageyama burns with shame for his inability to answer.

"You continue fighting," Oikawa says, ignoring the way Kageyama's eyes have gone wide and glassy, ignoring the way he's frozen up as if the picture Oikawa paints puts him back in the simulation directly. "You eliminate enemies. You clear a path through a section of the ship, holding down your position. You think you are doing well, better than in any previous run. It's the first time no one has gotten past you. You think incorrectly."

Oikawa is no longer smiling. Kageyama's hands are fisted so tightly at his sides that his knuckles show white but he can't stop listening, has no choice but to relive the simulation until the end.

"Your teammates have checked in with you six times, the alerts from their messages visible on the readouts inside your helmet. You ignore them. Another mistake, too severe to be recovered from. Your fellow soldier still on the bridge is warning you of an attack from the enemy ship. It breaches the hull of the area you're in. Panicked, but clear-thinking, you flee into the level below. You are not ripped out into the vacuum of empty space. You are ambushed on the lower deck."

Kageyama swallows. His blood again runs cold, just as it had in the simulation, his spine as straight facing Oikawa as it was staring down all of those enemy heads. He'd known there was no way out; he'd known the simulation was kill or be killed, that the best he could do in the face of overwhelming odds was clear a path.

"You take cover as best you can. You fire on the enemy combatants. Your mind is still working clearly, quickly, and your shots are clean. Many enemy soldiers fall. You take damage, return fire cutting through your suit and burning your skin. You continue holding off the enemy. You've formed a bottleneck, preventing the enemy combatants from flooding onto the next floor until they deal with you. It's sound military strategy... Of a sort. You are, nevertheless, overwhelmed.

"You last forty-three minutes and fifty-two seconds in the simulation. You are killed in action. Your death is excruciating, but short. You've failed."

Oikawa finishes, and his mouth presses closed into a thin, pitiless line. He's watching Kageyama, doubtlessly taking in the set of his spine, the square of his shoulders, the way he's shaking, shaking so hard that he cannot control it, remembering the feeling of being shot through from ten different angles when his ammunition depleted and he gave in to the ambush. Oikawa watches him, and then Oikawa smiles.

"Do you know what you did wrong?" Oikawa asks again, that same question that's always first on his tongue. "You've made many mistakes, yes, yes, I can tell you about all of them. But do you know why you failed?"

"I didn't clear a path for the team," Kageyama says. "I had an objective, and I didn't meet it. I couldn't save them."

"You couldn't see them!" Oikawa counters, laughing. It's not a mirthful sound, tinged all through with poisonous distaste. Kageyama realizes, a dull, dawning awareness that washes over him like sunrise on some other, distant world, off-colored and wrong, that Oikawa is disappointed in him.

He realizes, with some horror, that perhaps Oikawa does want for him to succeed.

"Your batchmates have passed the test," Oikawa confides, his voice low and soft. "Kindaichi-kun and Kunimi-kun have been accepted for the new unit. Can it be that you're falling behind, Tobio-chan?"

Kageyama clenches his jaw shut, no longer biting back angry words, thoughtless retorts. His eyes sting; it occurs to him, distantly, that what he's choking back are frustrated tears.

"You'll have to do better next time," Oikawa says, in that same soft, pitying tone. "I can't allow you more chances than ten. You may be the only one in the simulation, living or dying by your own choices. But you aren't alone. If you cannot work with a team who's nothing but programming and code, who will do the same things every time you make requests of them, how can you work with a team of other people?"

Kageyama swallows, thickly against the blockage in his throat, and ducks his head.

"Pass the test, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says. "If you want to be on this team, prove that you can work with one."
horchata: (Default)


[personal profile] horchata 2016-06-24 05:26 pm (UTC)(link)
NICE LIRA auuugh this was really nice, and an amazing show of Oikawa's esteem and frustration, as well as that last line. What a great last line, Lira. Damn.