"Gender identity as a social construction."
Well, at least it's better than that 'tree falling in the forest' bull. What a clusterfuck that debate was.
Max didn't like abstract debate topics. He excelled when people talked about extending censorship laws or holding university graduates in the country or bailing out banks or giving disabled people government-subsidised prostitutes or denying old people the right to hospital treatment, but when it came to abstract debates like this, he floundered.
Luckily for him, today he wasn't the only one.
From Markham's "little girls going to war" argument, the Con argument had collapsed a little, Max could see that, and Ilario's uncharacteristically bad argument shot his team in the foot by partly agreeing with the Pro - it isn't wrong to make generalisations indeed. Even Irina's barnstorming speech wasn't perfect, as it ignored one of the first rules of debate Captain Kwong had taught them - "never use yourself as an example, because the audience doesn't care what you do, they care what you think."
Then again, the Pro argument hadn't been much better. Samya's argument had been good, great even, but Max knew he had a lot of work to do to repair the Pro's argument after Vincent Murdoch's awfully-structured and horribly simplistic train-wreck of a speech.
But then, Max wasn't sure he could do much better as he stepped up to plate with his couple of pages of notes, shaking a little, as he was prone to when debating.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today we've heard a whole number of reasons for society not being the primary determiner of gender identity in this world from the Cons - from biological reasons to statistics to the fact that we're all just so special. However, we've heard very little substantive evidence from the Cons, outside of how individual Irina is and some hypothetical involving dolls and tanks, to support these arguments. This is simply because there's not much weight to them at all - biology itself is not the key determinant of gender identity in society simply because it takes human thought, built up by progressive societal ideals and constructs, to determine which gender is inherently predisposed to ballet or guns; statistics are by no means a cause of gender identity, merely an indicator that gender identity exists, and such statistics as that which Ilario revealed can be construed any which way but loose; and as for everyone being an individual - well, as much as Irina wanted to be fencing captain, there's no denying that there are more girls on the cheerleading squad."
Way to fight on their terms, Max. Stupid.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we in the Pro team have been adamant from the start that gender identity develops alongside society's notions of identity. Society is an inherently man-made construct, and so too is gender identity. Had man started off perceiving woman as equal, then maybe Markham's hypothetical would have been much different than it was, but because man perceived a difference in sex, because women could get pregnant or had breasts or had long hair or whatever, a gender identity developed in which the identity the woman possessed was defined by her role in a male-dominated society. Women became cleaners, mothers, cookers, while men became hunters, leaders, fathers, simply because jobs needed to be done in even the most primitive of societies, and man dictated the difference in order to fit these needs.
"Society's influence on gender identity is particularly evident when one observes the differences between modern-day Western culture and 18th century Western culture - in the 18th century, women were subject to a cycle of domestic work and pregnancy, and the best jobs they could get were as teachers or typists; whereas today, such a cycle is less common in Western culture, and women can climb the career ladder a lot higher than they used to, because feminist movements in the last century or so have changed society's opinion on the role of women and their gender identity."
Wrap it up, Max. Wraaaap it uuuuuup.
"For the reasons I have outlined, I am proud to nega...I mean, affirm the moot."
Max sat down.
Well, that was a bit of a mess.
Debate Exposes Doubt
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Pigeon Army*
- Posts: 232
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 6:17 am
((Sorry for holding up the thread, guys.))
Roland didn't quite get the last word on the subject as a whole, but he did get it for his team, which was good enough for him, he supposed. Ironically, both he and Max were rewarded for their tardiness by being given extra time to compose their arguments and react to the mistakes made by their peers. Then again, it could be hard to do both at the same time, but that didn't stop Roland from trying.
Markham limped out of the starting gate with a weak spurt of rhetoric that Roland knew he didn't actually believe in. G.I. Joes and Barbie dolls? Please. That wasn't even creative, just something anyone can think of through cultural osmosis. He didn't blame Markham, though; he actually kind of sympathized when the other kid failed to hide his shame. Lord knows that happened to Roland a few times.
His shabby argument was gleefully castrated by Sammy Franklin. Not that Roland was surprised; Sammy always took Debate Team very seriously, perhaps to the point of excess. Practicing rhetoric never hurt anyone, but real life wasn't as cut and dry as it was under Mr. Kwong's watchful eye. Anyway, her argument was a lot more sensible than Markham's, but since Markham was on his team, this was bad for him. He'd need to fix it fast.
But maybe he needn't work so hard if Ilario could pick up Markham's slack. The Fiametto Golden Boy would need his rhetoric in the career he was training for, and in previous debates, he'd proved to have a reasonable grasp of it. His grasp seemed to be slipping today, though; his argument was cold and impersonal, based on statistics and the law of averages. Again, life wasn't as clear-cut as that; patterns may work for society as a whole, but there are a lot more deviations from the norm than Ilario gave the world credit for, and they would sure as shit not take kindly to being lumped in with the faceless masses. Hopefully Kwong wouldn't consider that a relevant point.
Thankfully, the second Pro debater would fail to measure up to Ilario. Verminous Vincent Murdoch was the one guy that everybody put up with and talked about behind his back, the man with massive ego blinkers preventing him from seeing anyone else's opinions and reflecting his awesomeness tenfold. He immediately disregarded any sense of self-control and launched into faux-pithy and completely unprofessional snark that made Roland hide his hands under the desks so the rest of the team wouldn't see him makings fists.
Well, alright, that one Al Gore crack had a spark of promise.
It should have been easy for his next teammate, confident femme fatale Irina, to rip Vincent a new asshole, but for some reason, Irina chose to rely on anecdotal evidence to make the point that... fuck. What point was she trying to make? It took a while for Roland to figure it out, and he only managed it when asking himself how her argument would benefit the Con team. It could have been used for either side with little modification, and if the meaning was that hard to determine, it wouldn't help the team too much. Oh well.
Roland didn't pay too much attention to Max's argument because it dawned on him that he was next, and he'd have to come up with something quick. Suddenly he remembered one of the few books that both he and his sister enjoyed reading: Philip Kitcher's Living with Darwin. The book reconciled two different points of view by explaining that both creationism and intelligent design simply weren't reasonable schools of thought, but that it was perfectly possible for Christians to accept evolution and still remain faithful.
And that's when it hit Roland. While he couldn't argue in good faith that traditional gender roles were the only options in society, he could certainly argue that they weren't a creation of society. He was satisfied enough with the idea to come back to Earth and listen to Max stumble a bit with his closing statement.
No time like the present.
"The roots of traditional gender roles are even deeper than the earliest civilizations, originating at the dawn of the human species. We evolved from animals, many of which also have their sexes behave differently, usually even more drastically. The male lion leads his pride and does nothing while the females hunt all the food. Wolves form a pack structure reminiscent of the human nuclear family. Female chimpanzees stay home and learn to be mothers while the males leave to court females from other tribes. And in many species, the male seeds as many females as he can and leaves them with the burden of raising their young.
"The reason that the cultures of the ancient world settled on patriarchal systems didn't originate from a conspiracy of men to keep women in a subservient position, it came from leftover instincts that people relied on to survive instead of reasoning away like modern society. Instincts that were passed on from our ancestors, and remained there long after the link between man and nature was cut from our memory, perpetuated by people desiring to keep the status quo, afraid to change the world.
"But here in the developed world, we no longer have to forage for food, and we no longer have to be smart enough or athletic enough to avoid death and reproduce. We can afford not to follow our instincts about how men and women should act. But no matter how far we stray from our roots, they'll always be there, to remind us of where we came from."
Roland sat down again and folded his hands, looking to Harold to finish this game of theirs. His argument took a bit of an odd tangent, and again, it sort of hinged on a technicality. Plus, the evolution angle was bound to set a few eyebrows on fire if it got out of the classroom; he'd know Lily would give him an earful for giving such a coldly scientific recitation of mankind's early history. But fuck it. He'd said his piece with a straight face, and if his team lost because of him, so what?
It was only Debate Team, after all.
Roland didn't quite get the last word on the subject as a whole, but he did get it for his team, which was good enough for him, he supposed. Ironically, both he and Max were rewarded for their tardiness by being given extra time to compose their arguments and react to the mistakes made by their peers. Then again, it could be hard to do both at the same time, but that didn't stop Roland from trying.
Markham limped out of the starting gate with a weak spurt of rhetoric that Roland knew he didn't actually believe in. G.I. Joes and Barbie dolls? Please. That wasn't even creative, just something anyone can think of through cultural osmosis. He didn't blame Markham, though; he actually kind of sympathized when the other kid failed to hide his shame. Lord knows that happened to Roland a few times.
His shabby argument was gleefully castrated by Sammy Franklin. Not that Roland was surprised; Sammy always took Debate Team very seriously, perhaps to the point of excess. Practicing rhetoric never hurt anyone, but real life wasn't as cut and dry as it was under Mr. Kwong's watchful eye. Anyway, her argument was a lot more sensible than Markham's, but since Markham was on his team, this was bad for him. He'd need to fix it fast.
But maybe he needn't work so hard if Ilario could pick up Markham's slack. The Fiametto Golden Boy would need his rhetoric in the career he was training for, and in previous debates, he'd proved to have a reasonable grasp of it. His grasp seemed to be slipping today, though; his argument was cold and impersonal, based on statistics and the law of averages. Again, life wasn't as clear-cut as that; patterns may work for society as a whole, but there are a lot more deviations from the norm than Ilario gave the world credit for, and they would sure as shit not take kindly to being lumped in with the faceless masses. Hopefully Kwong wouldn't consider that a relevant point.
Thankfully, the second Pro debater would fail to measure up to Ilario. Verminous Vincent Murdoch was the one guy that everybody put up with and talked about behind his back, the man with massive ego blinkers preventing him from seeing anyone else's opinions and reflecting his awesomeness tenfold. He immediately disregarded any sense of self-control and launched into faux-pithy and completely unprofessional snark that made Roland hide his hands under the desks so the rest of the team wouldn't see him makings fists.
Well, alright, that one Al Gore crack had a spark of promise.
It should have been easy for his next teammate, confident femme fatale Irina, to rip Vincent a new asshole, but for some reason, Irina chose to rely on anecdotal evidence to make the point that... fuck. What point was she trying to make? It took a while for Roland to figure it out, and he only managed it when asking himself how her argument would benefit the Con team. It could have been used for either side with little modification, and if the meaning was that hard to determine, it wouldn't help the team too much. Oh well.
Roland didn't pay too much attention to Max's argument because it dawned on him that he was next, and he'd have to come up with something quick. Suddenly he remembered one of the few books that both he and his sister enjoyed reading: Philip Kitcher's Living with Darwin. The book reconciled two different points of view by explaining that both creationism and intelligent design simply weren't reasonable schools of thought, but that it was perfectly possible for Christians to accept evolution and still remain faithful.
And that's when it hit Roland. While he couldn't argue in good faith that traditional gender roles were the only options in society, he could certainly argue that they weren't a creation of society. He was satisfied enough with the idea to come back to Earth and listen to Max stumble a bit with his closing statement.
No time like the present.
"The roots of traditional gender roles are even deeper than the earliest civilizations, originating at the dawn of the human species. We evolved from animals, many of which also have their sexes behave differently, usually even more drastically. The male lion leads his pride and does nothing while the females hunt all the food. Wolves form a pack structure reminiscent of the human nuclear family. Female chimpanzees stay home and learn to be mothers while the males leave to court females from other tribes. And in many species, the male seeds as many females as he can and leaves them with the burden of raising their young.
"The reason that the cultures of the ancient world settled on patriarchal systems didn't originate from a conspiracy of men to keep women in a subservient position, it came from leftover instincts that people relied on to survive instead of reasoning away like modern society. Instincts that were passed on from our ancestors, and remained there long after the link between man and nature was cut from our memory, perpetuated by people desiring to keep the status quo, afraid to change the world.
"But here in the developed world, we no longer have to forage for food, and we no longer have to be smart enough or athletic enough to avoid death and reproduce. We can afford not to follow our instincts about how men and women should act. But no matter how far we stray from our roots, they'll always be there, to remind us of where we came from."
Roland sat down again and folded his hands, looking to Harold to finish this game of theirs. His argument took a bit of an odd tangent, and again, it sort of hinged on a technicality. Plus, the evolution angle was bound to set a few eyebrows on fire if it got out of the classroom; he'd know Lily would give him an earful for giving such a coldly scientific recitation of mankind's early history. But fuck it. He'd said his piece with a straight face, and if his team lost because of him, so what?
It was only Debate Team, after all.
For most of the argumentation, Harold had sat back and simply listened, adding the arguments together in his mind. All in all, this was a middling to mediocre exhibition of rhetoric, with the end result being that the last con man (he grinned a little at his personal joke) had to make up a lot of ground. Not that the pro side was much better. Vincent's argument, for instance, demonstrated to everyone that Mr. Murdoch knew how to eat pizza considerably better than he knew how to talk. Such a shame, that, as the task of regaining the win lay on him.
Harold's chest was tightening. His hands were naturally forming into fists. Debate was one of the few things that got him excited. After taking the allowed time to think up a counter-argument, he stood up, cleared his throat, and began.
"First, the Pro side will acknowledge that Evolution has played a part in our society's code of norms and acceptable behaviors. However, we will define Evolution thusly: a dramatic change over time, brought about by the gradual dominance of one variation over others. More plainly spoken, behaviors and beliefs may evolve over time just like biological structure, with the less acceptable evolutions and mutations of the time being weeded out by aggression from stronger or more numerous varieties.
"In societal terms, what we have here is a more civilized form of Survival of the Fittest (not that reality show, the concept), known plainly as peer pressure. Girls may or may not, for example, idolize famous authors or actors, but if the majority of girls claim to like them, then the dissenting forms will either be forced to pretend that they do idolize these celebrities, or face ridicule and abuse from their peers and probable exclusion from the dominant herd.
"As a result of all this, society as a whole has slid into various stereotypes about the preferences and roles of men and women. Not all the women in the world like fashion or talking about boys. Nor do all the men in the world get muscular or drink beer. However, because the majority of society either supports a particular identity, or bullies others into supporting that identity, gender roles have come into existence, as a product of the leading portion's expectations of their gender."
It could have been better. This issue was far too boring.
Harold's chest was tightening. His hands were naturally forming into fists. Debate was one of the few things that got him excited. After taking the allowed time to think up a counter-argument, he stood up, cleared his throat, and began.
"First, the Pro side will acknowledge that Evolution has played a part in our society's code of norms and acceptable behaviors. However, we will define Evolution thusly: a dramatic change over time, brought about by the gradual dominance of one variation over others. More plainly spoken, behaviors and beliefs may evolve over time just like biological structure, with the less acceptable evolutions and mutations of the time being weeded out by aggression from stronger or more numerous varieties.
"In societal terms, what we have here is a more civilized form of Survival of the Fittest (not that reality show, the concept), known plainly as peer pressure. Girls may or may not, for example, idolize famous authors or actors, but if the majority of girls claim to like them, then the dissenting forms will either be forced to pretend that they do idolize these celebrities, or face ridicule and abuse from their peers and probable exclusion from the dominant herd.
"As a result of all this, society as a whole has slid into various stereotypes about the preferences and roles of men and women. Not all the women in the world like fashion or talking about boys. Nor do all the men in the world get muscular or drink beer. However, because the majority of society either supports a particular identity, or bullies others into supporting that identity, gender roles have come into existence, as a product of the leading portion's expectations of their gender."
It could have been better. This issue was far too boring.
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landlocked*
- Posts: 99
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 9:03 am
Phew. Things had gone off without a hitch. Abigail couldn't help but feel satisfied with herself - not only was she able to organize a debate (sure, it was a really informal one, but still), AND she got to sit back and relax a little bit while the others did the rest. Was it a little lazy of her to choose to moderate due to stress? ...Weeeeell, maybe a little bit, but still. Setting things up had to count for something.
Besides, sitting and listening proved to be a pretty decent way to relax. All she had to do was focus on the arguments, and it kept her mind off of everything else for a while, as did keeping score. She'd moderated debates once or twice before, and Abigail found that it helped to have sort of a point system to determine which side to ultimately declare the winner. If she felt an argument was strong, she'd give the team a point, and if not she wouldn't. Not that she ever actually said the score out loud - that'd just offend people, that was the last thing she wanted - she just kept track mentally.
Markham was up first - and he didn't seem very confident in his statement. Abigail had expected someone on the con side to make the argument that it was human nature that caused societal norms as opposed to the other way around, and it wasn't an argument that she agreed with, but either way it wasn't a bad start. Maybe a little shaky, but he could've done worse. Okay, one for Con. Sammy's turn...
As usual, Samya spoke with a lot of confidence, and she used Markham's argument to shape her own. It was always tough to judge this kind of thing in an unbiased way when it was a friend she was evaluating, but Samya was a consistently solid debater, so Abigail didn't feel particularly guilty for giving her a mental point, as well.
Next up was Ilario... yikes. Speaking of being unbiased, it'd be even harder to do in this case... but she'd do her best. She listened carefully - Ilario was also a pretty confident speaker, if a little fidgety, but... Abigail had to admit, his argument wasn't up to his usual standard. It came off as a bit vague to her. ...It's wasn't terrible, but... Come on, what were you just saying about being unbiased? The score was still one all. Vincent was next.
Well, his argument was definitely pretty irreverent towards Ilario's, which rubbed Abigail the wrong way, but she had to admit it made a lot of sense. His statement that correlation didn't equal causation rang particularly true to her. If only he'd learn to be a bit more civil... regardless of that, he'd made a good point, and once again, she couldn't let personal preference get in the way. 2-1, Pro.
Irina certainly spoke with the most passion out of all of them, which was something Abigail had to admire, but bringing up personal experience was another pet peeve of hers as far as debate was concerned. Not to mention something that Mr. Kwong had warned them against. It seemed to Abigail that Irina had let herself get a little off-track, too - her argument didn't have much to do with those of her predecessors, and it almost seemed to support the Pro side more than the Con. You sure you're not just being hard on her for some other reason...? ...No, stop thinking like that... not everything has to do with your stupid crush. Anyway, okay, that means it's still 2-1 for the Pro side. Who did I say was next...?
Oh, right, Max. Another solid debater, and another person Abigail would consider a friend. His argument, was, as expected, a strong one, and he made sure to reference the arguments his teammates had presented, but it was also a little verbose. Abigail gave a quick glance at the clock hanging over the blackboard at the front of the room as he continued to speak - he was starting to go over his time limit. She cleared her throat, which seemed to help a bit - Max hastily wrapped the speech up. Hm... It was a good argument, either way, but she couldn't in good conscience give him a full point after going over the limit... Maybe half a point. 2 and a half - 1, Pro.
Roland was next... was he last member of Team Con? With her mental score being the way it was, that meant there was no way for Con to win at this point, was there? Maybe it wasn't entirely fair to judge this way, since the Con team had fewer members by default. Should she give them half a point as compensation? Wellll, maybe she'd see how the final score came out first. Roland was yet another friend, so Abigail reminded herself yet again not to let bias cloud her judgement. Once again, he brought up the idea that gender roles were simply instinct - perhaps outdated instinct, but instinct nonetheless - and cited various other examples in nature. Roland's piece hearkened back to points Markham and Ilario had made, although it didn't bring much new to the table. Still, it was fairly solid. 2 and a half - 2 and a half. They deserve the extra point, the other team's got more people... I should've thought this through more...
Finally came Harold with the closing statement, which summed up the ideas presented by the rest of his team pretty well, although again, it didn't expand much on them. But it was well worded, clear and direct - one more point for the Pro side. That meant they won with or without the extra point for Team Con. It was over, and... wow, it had actually worked out pretty well...
She didn't waste any time after Harold closed the debate - after just a beat of silence, Abigail stood up and announced to them, "All right, you guys, good job! I know that this was a lot more loosely structured than we usually do it, but thanks for bearing with me, that still turned out pretty well. You all had some good points, but... in the end, I have to give the victory to the Pro side. I feel like you guys were able to expand on each others' arguments a bit better. To be honest, a lot of the Con team's arguments were a little too general. Please don't take it personally or anything, you guys all know that you're good debaters. ...So, uh. ...I guess that's it! We're, uh... free to do... whatever now."
She clapped her hands together and sighed, partially with relief and partially more nerves before turning to Mr. Kwong and thanking him for being there. Sure he hadn't really done much, but Abigail could tell he was just in a bad mood, and they'd done fine without him. ...Yup, that was the end of that. All done. Nothing left to do now but... just... she could just go home right? There wasn't anything else important on her mind... she didn't have to stay here...
No. She did. If this didn't get done now, it never would. It's like Mom always says, it's easier to regret something you didn't do than something you did. As the rest of the team milled about a bit, caught in the awkward stage just before leaving, Abigail tapped Ilario on the shoulder. Her pulse raced so fast she could feel the blood pumping through her finger. "Hey, um, would you mind sticking around for a second? I need to... Ineedtoaskyousomething."
There. Now she didn't have a choice. Do or die, Abby.
No sooner than the words escaped her mouth, Abigail immediately hurried over to where Samya was. Hurriedly and without any prior explanation, she said in a whisper, "So I'm planning on asking Ilario to prom... uh, like, right now. C-could you maybe stay here for a minute for um... moral support?"
Besides, sitting and listening proved to be a pretty decent way to relax. All she had to do was focus on the arguments, and it kept her mind off of everything else for a while, as did keeping score. She'd moderated debates once or twice before, and Abigail found that it helped to have sort of a point system to determine which side to ultimately declare the winner. If she felt an argument was strong, she'd give the team a point, and if not she wouldn't. Not that she ever actually said the score out loud - that'd just offend people, that was the last thing she wanted - she just kept track mentally.
Markham was up first - and he didn't seem very confident in his statement. Abigail had expected someone on the con side to make the argument that it was human nature that caused societal norms as opposed to the other way around, and it wasn't an argument that she agreed with, but either way it wasn't a bad start. Maybe a little shaky, but he could've done worse. Okay, one for Con. Sammy's turn...
As usual, Samya spoke with a lot of confidence, and she used Markham's argument to shape her own. It was always tough to judge this kind of thing in an unbiased way when it was a friend she was evaluating, but Samya was a consistently solid debater, so Abigail didn't feel particularly guilty for giving her a mental point, as well.
Next up was Ilario... yikes. Speaking of being unbiased, it'd be even harder to do in this case... but she'd do her best. She listened carefully - Ilario was also a pretty confident speaker, if a little fidgety, but... Abigail had to admit, his argument wasn't up to his usual standard. It came off as a bit vague to her. ...It's wasn't terrible, but... Come on, what were you just saying about being unbiased? The score was still one all. Vincent was next.
Well, his argument was definitely pretty irreverent towards Ilario's, which rubbed Abigail the wrong way, but she had to admit it made a lot of sense. His statement that correlation didn't equal causation rang particularly true to her. If only he'd learn to be a bit more civil... regardless of that, he'd made a good point, and once again, she couldn't let personal preference get in the way. 2-1, Pro.
Irina certainly spoke with the most passion out of all of them, which was something Abigail had to admire, but bringing up personal experience was another pet peeve of hers as far as debate was concerned. Not to mention something that Mr. Kwong had warned them against. It seemed to Abigail that Irina had let herself get a little off-track, too - her argument didn't have much to do with those of her predecessors, and it almost seemed to support the Pro side more than the Con. You sure you're not just being hard on her for some other reason...? ...No, stop thinking like that... not everything has to do with your stupid crush. Anyway, okay, that means it's still 2-1 for the Pro side. Who did I say was next...?
Oh, right, Max. Another solid debater, and another person Abigail would consider a friend. His argument, was, as expected, a strong one, and he made sure to reference the arguments his teammates had presented, but it was also a little verbose. Abigail gave a quick glance at the clock hanging over the blackboard at the front of the room as he continued to speak - he was starting to go over his time limit. She cleared her throat, which seemed to help a bit - Max hastily wrapped the speech up. Hm... It was a good argument, either way, but she couldn't in good conscience give him a full point after going over the limit... Maybe half a point. 2 and a half - 1, Pro.
Roland was next... was he last member of Team Con? With her mental score being the way it was, that meant there was no way for Con to win at this point, was there? Maybe it wasn't entirely fair to judge this way, since the Con team had fewer members by default. Should she give them half a point as compensation? Wellll, maybe she'd see how the final score came out first. Roland was yet another friend, so Abigail reminded herself yet again not to let bias cloud her judgement. Once again, he brought up the idea that gender roles were simply instinct - perhaps outdated instinct, but instinct nonetheless - and cited various other examples in nature. Roland's piece hearkened back to points Markham and Ilario had made, although it didn't bring much new to the table. Still, it was fairly solid. 2 and a half - 2 and a half. They deserve the extra point, the other team's got more people... I should've thought this through more...
Finally came Harold with the closing statement, which summed up the ideas presented by the rest of his team pretty well, although again, it didn't expand much on them. But it was well worded, clear and direct - one more point for the Pro side. That meant they won with or without the extra point for Team Con. It was over, and... wow, it had actually worked out pretty well...
She didn't waste any time after Harold closed the debate - after just a beat of silence, Abigail stood up and announced to them, "All right, you guys, good job! I know that this was a lot more loosely structured than we usually do it, but thanks for bearing with me, that still turned out pretty well. You all had some good points, but... in the end, I have to give the victory to the Pro side. I feel like you guys were able to expand on each others' arguments a bit better. To be honest, a lot of the Con team's arguments were a little too general. Please don't take it personally or anything, you guys all know that you're good debaters. ...So, uh. ...I guess that's it! We're, uh... free to do... whatever now."
She clapped her hands together and sighed, partially with relief and partially more nerves before turning to Mr. Kwong and thanking him for being there. Sure he hadn't really done much, but Abigail could tell he was just in a bad mood, and they'd done fine without him. ...Yup, that was the end of that. All done. Nothing left to do now but... just... she could just go home right? There wasn't anything else important on her mind... she didn't have to stay here...
No. She did. If this didn't get done now, it never would. It's like Mom always says, it's easier to regret something you didn't do than something you did. As the rest of the team milled about a bit, caught in the awkward stage just before leaving, Abigail tapped Ilario on the shoulder. Her pulse raced so fast she could feel the blood pumping through her finger. "Hey, um, would you mind sticking around for a second? I need to... Ineedtoaskyousomething."
There. Now she didn't have a choice. Do or die, Abby.
No sooner than the words escaped her mouth, Abigail immediately hurried over to where Samya was. Hurriedly and without any prior explanation, she said in a whisper, "So I'm planning on asking Ilario to prom... uh, like, right now. C-could you maybe stay here for a minute for um... moral support?"
Markham listened to the other speeches half-heartedly, too distracted by recurring thoughts about how lousy his own speech was to give anyone else his full attention. Samya had done exactly what he had expected and easily came up with a strong rebuttal to his argument and even managed to rub his own argument in his face. He knew it was just a debate and this was all impersonal, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel a little twinge of pain in his heart after that one. It was a bad start for his team, at least...it looked like the Pro side would have a lot of more momentum now.
Ilario was up next and no matter how much he disliked the other debater, he recognized Ilario's skill and respected it. Even if Ilario was a ridiculous name. Strangely enough, the argument he present wasn't...great. In fact, if Markham had been a more judgmental man, he would have classified the argument as downright lousy and ridiculous. Then again, his own argument wasn't that much better, so there really was no room to criticize.
Vincent was up next and Markham immediately tuned the kid out. He doubted he would ever care for what Vincent had to say and even if they were in the same club, that didn't mean he had to listen. Markham decided to think about random and nonsensical things while pretending to listen, snapping out of it the moment Vincent left and Irina went up to the stand. He watched her performance closely, but wouldn't allow himself to make a judgment on it. He already knew how unbiased he was, so instead he just allowed him to enjoy hearing Irina's voice. Truly, the bad things helped you enjoy the good things that much more.
Max was up next and his speech, however long (he could hear Abigail clearing her throat), was another good one. It was depressing how much better the Pro side seemed to be doing compared to the Con side. He really had chosen the wrong side to argue on for this topic. Maybe he should have put more thought into it.
Wrapping up the Con side was Roland, who decided to tackle the evolutionary route and explained the phenomenon with science. Markham always did enjoy explaining things with cold hard logic and factual proof than personal experience. He decided that Roland's argument was probably the best out of the Con side and waited for Harold to finish up the debate so that he could escape and go home to copy his notes and consult his books.
After Harold's closing argument, Markham released a sigh and leaned back on his chair, waiting for Abigail to announce the results. Unsurprisingly, she labeled the Pro side as the winners and declared that all of the club members were free to do whatever they wanted now. Markham stood and gathered his things, not wanting to be the first one out of the room. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea and milled around the room for a minute or two before Abigail went up to Ilario and asked him something right before hurrying to Samya's side.
'None of my business.' He thought to himself. With a sigh, he just decided to leave and go home. It was better than standing around looking like an idiot. He briefly considered asking Irina if she would want to go to Prom with him, but immediately brushed it off as a stupid idea. With a bow to the assembled students, he said, "Nice debate, everyone."
With that, he left the room. 'What a lousy debate...Well, it was only one thing. Not all of them can be winners, I guess.'
((Markham Connor continued in the FUTURE with Chicken Soup for the Soul))
Ilario was up next and no matter how much he disliked the other debater, he recognized Ilario's skill and respected it. Even if Ilario was a ridiculous name. Strangely enough, the argument he present wasn't...great. In fact, if Markham had been a more judgmental man, he would have classified the argument as downright lousy and ridiculous. Then again, his own argument wasn't that much better, so there really was no room to criticize.
Vincent was up next and Markham immediately tuned the kid out. He doubted he would ever care for what Vincent had to say and even if they were in the same club, that didn't mean he had to listen. Markham decided to think about random and nonsensical things while pretending to listen, snapping out of it the moment Vincent left and Irina went up to the stand. He watched her performance closely, but wouldn't allow himself to make a judgment on it. He already knew how unbiased he was, so instead he just allowed him to enjoy hearing Irina's voice. Truly, the bad things helped you enjoy the good things that much more.
Max was up next and his speech, however long (he could hear Abigail clearing her throat), was another good one. It was depressing how much better the Pro side seemed to be doing compared to the Con side. He really had chosen the wrong side to argue on for this topic. Maybe he should have put more thought into it.
Wrapping up the Con side was Roland, who decided to tackle the evolutionary route and explained the phenomenon with science. Markham always did enjoy explaining things with cold hard logic and factual proof than personal experience. He decided that Roland's argument was probably the best out of the Con side and waited for Harold to finish up the debate so that he could escape and go home to copy his notes and consult his books.
After Harold's closing argument, Markham released a sigh and leaned back on his chair, waiting for Abigail to announce the results. Unsurprisingly, she labeled the Pro side as the winners and declared that all of the club members were free to do whatever they wanted now. Markham stood and gathered his things, not wanting to be the first one out of the room. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea and milled around the room for a minute or two before Abigail went up to Ilario and asked him something right before hurrying to Samya's side.
'None of my business.' He thought to himself. With a sigh, he just decided to leave and go home. It was better than standing around looking like an idiot. He briefly considered asking Irina if she would want to go to Prom with him, but immediately brushed it off as a stupid idea. With a bow to the assembled students, he said, "Nice debate, everyone."
With that, he left the room. 'What a lousy debate...Well, it was only one thing. Not all of them can be winners, I guess.'
((Markham Connor continued in the FUTURE with Chicken Soup for the Soul))
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Sunnybunny
- Posts: 400
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
Sammy put her on her desk and listened to the rest of the group debate their points. Everyone preformed about how she expected them to, with a couple of notable exceptions. Ilario didn't suck per se, but he certainly wasn't up to his usual quality. To be honest, it was nice to see him a bit unsettled. Made him seem more human and less like a robot. And Irina . . . if you had walked in not knowing what team she was on, you would have thought she was for Pro instead of Con. She definitely got points for being passionate though. Everyone else, herself included, was dry as toast. Harold's closing speech was as dry as burnt toast. Okay, maybe she expected that one.
Mr. Kwong had looked at them all impartially. If fact, if Sammy had to guess, she would say he was bored. On the bright side, none of them had come to blows or insulted each other's kin, so this was a good meeting in her book. It would be even better if her team won, but she would be cool either way. Losing wouldn't be the end of the world. Winnning would be awesome though.
"All right, you guys, good job! I know that this was a lot more loosely structured than we usually do it, but thanks for bearing with me, that still turned out pretty well. You all had some good points, but... in the end, I have to give the victory to the Pro side.
Sammy grinned. She would have laughed, but that would have just been rude. "Good job, ya'll.", she said to everyone. That would do, no need to gloat over it. She stood up and streched when Abby ran over to Ilario and asked him to stay for a bit. She wondered why, then figured it must be some debate business. Then Abigail ran over to Sammy, nearly knocking her down. This must be BIG news. Abby never gets riled up like this, not even about her sewing circle. She whispered the info.
"So I'm planning on asking Ilario to prom... uh, like, right now. C-could you maybe stay here for a minute for um... moral support?"
Wait, WHAT?
Abigail had never expressed any interest in any guy at Bayview, to her anyway. In fact, the only person she knew that had less interest in the whole high school romance thing that Abigail was . . . herself. Shock was not quite the word for how she felt right at the moment. She was floored. Hmm . . . this was really good though. She was happy that Abby liked Ilario and was acting on it. She's got more guts than I do. Everyone has more guts than I do. Maybe they would calm each other down. She whispered to to her, "No thanks for the warning! But yeah, I'll stay and back you up. What kinda friend would I be if I didn't!".
Even as she put two thumbs up, she got the feeling she was forgetting something. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Why did she have a bad feeling in her gut all a sudden? She looked around the room for an answer.
What is it? Why in the world do I feel like this? Maybe I should ask someone here for some pain pills. Maybe Irina has some. Wait a minute. Irina likes Ilario too . . .
Aww, hell . . .
Mr. Kwong had looked at them all impartially. If fact, if Sammy had to guess, she would say he was bored. On the bright side, none of them had come to blows or insulted each other's kin, so this was a good meeting in her book. It would be even better if her team won, but she would be cool either way. Losing wouldn't be the end of the world. Winnning would be awesome though.
"All right, you guys, good job! I know that this was a lot more loosely structured than we usually do it, but thanks for bearing with me, that still turned out pretty well. You all had some good points, but... in the end, I have to give the victory to the Pro side.
Sammy grinned. She would have laughed, but that would have just been rude. "Good job, ya'll.", she said to everyone. That would do, no need to gloat over it. She stood up and streched when Abby ran over to Ilario and asked him to stay for a bit. She wondered why, then figured it must be some debate business. Then Abigail ran over to Sammy, nearly knocking her down. This must be BIG news. Abby never gets riled up like this, not even about her sewing circle. She whispered the info.
"So I'm planning on asking Ilario to prom... uh, like, right now. C-could you maybe stay here for a minute for um... moral support?"
Wait, WHAT?
Abigail had never expressed any interest in any guy at Bayview, to her anyway. In fact, the only person she knew that had less interest in the whole high school romance thing that Abigail was . . . herself. Shock was not quite the word for how she felt right at the moment. She was floored. Hmm . . . this was really good though. She was happy that Abby liked Ilario and was acting on it. She's got more guts than I do. Everyone has more guts than I do. Maybe they would calm each other down. She whispered to to her, "No thanks for the warning! But yeah, I'll stay and back you up. What kinda friend would I be if I didn't!".
Even as she put two thumbs up, she got the feeling she was forgetting something. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Why did she have a bad feeling in her gut all a sudden? She looked around the room for an answer.
What is it? Why in the world do I feel like this? Maybe I should ask someone here for some pain pills. Maybe Irina has some. Wait a minute. Irina likes Ilario too . . .
Aww, hell . . .
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
Roland sighed and got up from his seat. The Con team's arguments may have been too general, but so was the actual debate topic. Roland didn't do well with those; generalities were something he'd been trying to wean himself off of. He wished the team would cover debates about specific issues, like Title IX or a bill in Congress. There'd be no fucking generalizations in his argument then.
Whatever. Debate was over and it was time to catch up with the inner circle. Markham had already left after a terse farewell, and Abigail and Samya were talking about... something. Something that managed to give Samya a good shock. Whatever it was, it was probably none of his business.
"So, Max," Roland said, walking toward the guy who reminded him to come to Debate Team today in the first place. "Got any plans for the afternoon? I'm just about bored stiff."
Whatever. Debate was over and it was time to catch up with the inner circle. Markham had already left after a terse farewell, and Abigail and Samya were talking about... something. Something that managed to give Samya a good shock. Whatever it was, it was probably none of his business.
"So, Max," Roland said, walking toward the guy who reminded him to come to Debate Team today in the first place. "Got any plans for the afternoon? I'm just about bored stiff."
Irina tried to pay attention throughout the rest of the debate, but her heart wasn't in it. She knew the end result- Con didn't stand a chance. Roland had done a great job with the closing, but the rest of their side hadn't done well enough to make it matter. Irina deeply regretted her decision to make her argument about herself now. That probably sealed the deal against them, as it blatantly ignored many of Dr. Kwong's rules.
Irina grimaced slightly when she heard that the Con side had lost- although, really, she had expected it. She didn't think that anyone on the Con side believed in what they were arguing for, and in her opinion, they did a pretty good job just trying to stay afloat. In fact, this had been a really good debate. Sure, it was oddly structured, rushed, and for the most part the subject had been rather haphazard, but the fact that the team had done decently under those circumstances made Irina swell with pride.
Irina stood up and scanned the room, watching as a few people filed out, but kept her eyes on one person. She straightened her shirt and made sure that her hair wasn't doing anything weird. Her confidence had just taken a staggering blow, and she needed all the courage she could get to do this. Irina took one step towards Ilario and felt braver already. Wide grin now on her face, Irina moved herself forward confidently.
And then Abigail approached Ilario. Irina froze as she heard Abby ask Ilario to 'stick around' before going over to Samya. She turned to watch them, now with an uneasy feeling in her gut. Okay, okay, there's no need to get hasty. Just be calm and...ask. Yes, ask. Irina tried to relax her facial muscles and walked over to her two fellow female debaters. "You did great, Sammy." Irina said. She did mean it, but her current uneasiness probably made it seem less true. "So, what are you two planning to do now?" she asked. Wow, smooth, she said to herself.
Irina grimaced slightly when she heard that the Con side had lost- although, really, she had expected it. She didn't think that anyone on the Con side believed in what they were arguing for, and in her opinion, they did a pretty good job just trying to stay afloat. In fact, this had been a really good debate. Sure, it was oddly structured, rushed, and for the most part the subject had been rather haphazard, but the fact that the team had done decently under those circumstances made Irina swell with pride.
Irina stood up and scanned the room, watching as a few people filed out, but kept her eyes on one person. She straightened her shirt and made sure that her hair wasn't doing anything weird. Her confidence had just taken a staggering blow, and she needed all the courage she could get to do this. Irina took one step towards Ilario and felt braver already. Wide grin now on her face, Irina moved herself forward confidently.
And then Abigail approached Ilario. Irina froze as she heard Abby ask Ilario to 'stick around' before going over to Samya. She turned to watch them, now with an uneasy feeling in her gut. Okay, okay, there's no need to get hasty. Just be calm and...ask. Yes, ask. Irina tried to relax her facial muscles and walked over to her two fellow female debaters. "You did great, Sammy." Irina said. She did mean it, but her current uneasiness probably made it seem less true. "So, what are you two planning to do now?" she asked. Wow, smooth, she said to herself.
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DetectiveArcher*
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
Listening patiently while the others put forth their own arguments, Ilario took note of his competition. Murdoch was up next and, my, didn't he set a ruthless example. Taking Ilario's statements of facts and statistics, he pulled it apart, pandering to the knee-jerk, emotional responses of the audience.
The idea came down to petty mudslinging: 'Ilario Fiametta believes that these people are weird. Isn't he mean?' With a vague grimace crossing his features, the young professional commended the tactics. He didn't like the Murdoch, but he had to admit that he was at least good enough to tear apart an argument, if not make one of his own.
Irina was up next. To Ilario's surprise, she made a rather good argument. Again it was a more emotional appeal to pathos, rather than a logical reason, but still it had conviction behind it. People flocked to conviction. And the concept she presented was so very appealing. After all, Ilario himself wasn't what his father had made, but what he wanted on his own, right? Surreptitiously gnawing at the inside of his cheek, he was silently glad that his teammate's time came to an end.
Whatever his feelings on the subject, it was enough to stir some emotion. That was good. Controlling emotions meant controlling the situation. Both of the debaters that came after him seemed to have a good grasp of that. He needed to practice more.
Max, on the other hand, had his routine down pat. It sounded like he'd been practicing in front of the mirror for quite some time. Ilario definitely needed to practice more, if he wanted to sound like a real professional. Roland, likewise, brought up an excellent point. Jesus, where these the same people he'd always been in debate with? Either Ilario was slipping, they were getting better, or he was just having an off day. He hoped it was the last option.
Eh? Was Harold talking? He'd completely spaced out on the boy, which was just as well, anyway. He couldn't think of a single thing he'd said. It must not have been very interesting or important. Frowning, Ilario scolded himself. If one didn't pay attention to others, they couldn't learn from the mistakes or successes of others. Very bad form.
The last speaker finished, the young Italian heir kept his face neutral, while the verdict was handed down. The decision was that the members of the Con side of the debate had been utterly defeat. Disappointing to be sure, but not entirely unexpected. Chewing again at the inside of his cheek, Ilario gave a quick and courteous congratulation to the victors, before returning to the seat where he'd left his bag.
Tugging at the polished steel chain of his pocket watch, Ilario drew the silvery timepiece out and flicked open the face. Nothing extremely pressing, but he should still be getting ready to leave. It would be good to have time to spend with Frankie and Rosa. Heaven alone knew what trouble those two got into when he wasn't around.
A tap on his shoulder froze him in place. Turning and taking a step back from the person trying to get his attention, Ilario felt his nerves stretch. Facing his classmate, he almost sighed in relief. "Oh, hey, Aby. Anything I can do for you?"
"Hey, um." She paused a moment, something obviously bothering her. "Would you mind sticking around for a second? I need to... Ineedtoaskyousomething." Her face flushing lightly, she quickly turned and hurried away.
"Eh...sure," he called after her, "no problem." What was that about? Markham commented on a nice debate and bowed out of the session. With a wave, Ilario bid him farewell in kind. Turning back towards Aby, who'd gone to say something to Samya. From the flustered look on her face, something Sammy didn't particularly like.
Soon after, Irina made her way towards the duo, striking up a conversation. Cocking an eyebrow, Ilario took his seat and stole another glance at his watch. He had some time to spare. And whatever it was Abigail wanted seemed important to her. Rubbing the back of his head, he leaned back in his chair and waited for whatever it was that she needed him for.
The idea came down to petty mudslinging: 'Ilario Fiametta believes that these people are weird. Isn't he mean?' With a vague grimace crossing his features, the young professional commended the tactics. He didn't like the Murdoch, but he had to admit that he was at least good enough to tear apart an argument, if not make one of his own.
Irina was up next. To Ilario's surprise, she made a rather good argument. Again it was a more emotional appeal to pathos, rather than a logical reason, but still it had conviction behind it. People flocked to conviction. And the concept she presented was so very appealing. After all, Ilario himself wasn't what his father had made, but what he wanted on his own, right? Surreptitiously gnawing at the inside of his cheek, he was silently glad that his teammate's time came to an end.
Whatever his feelings on the subject, it was enough to stir some emotion. That was good. Controlling emotions meant controlling the situation. Both of the debaters that came after him seemed to have a good grasp of that. He needed to practice more.
Max, on the other hand, had his routine down pat. It sounded like he'd been practicing in front of the mirror for quite some time. Ilario definitely needed to practice more, if he wanted to sound like a real professional. Roland, likewise, brought up an excellent point. Jesus, where these the same people he'd always been in debate with? Either Ilario was slipping, they were getting better, or he was just having an off day. He hoped it was the last option.
Eh? Was Harold talking? He'd completely spaced out on the boy, which was just as well, anyway. He couldn't think of a single thing he'd said. It must not have been very interesting or important. Frowning, Ilario scolded himself. If one didn't pay attention to others, they couldn't learn from the mistakes or successes of others. Very bad form.
The last speaker finished, the young Italian heir kept his face neutral, while the verdict was handed down. The decision was that the members of the Con side of the debate had been utterly defeat. Disappointing to be sure, but not entirely unexpected. Chewing again at the inside of his cheek, Ilario gave a quick and courteous congratulation to the victors, before returning to the seat where he'd left his bag.
Tugging at the polished steel chain of his pocket watch, Ilario drew the silvery timepiece out and flicked open the face. Nothing extremely pressing, but he should still be getting ready to leave. It would be good to have time to spend with Frankie and Rosa. Heaven alone knew what trouble those two got into when he wasn't around.
A tap on his shoulder froze him in place. Turning and taking a step back from the person trying to get his attention, Ilario felt his nerves stretch. Facing his classmate, he almost sighed in relief. "Oh, hey, Aby. Anything I can do for you?"
"Hey, um." She paused a moment, something obviously bothering her. "Would you mind sticking around for a second? I need to... Ineedtoaskyousomething." Her face flushing lightly, she quickly turned and hurried away.
"Eh...sure," he called after her, "no problem." What was that about? Markham commented on a nice debate and bowed out of the session. With a wave, Ilario bid him farewell in kind. Turning back towards Aby, who'd gone to say something to Samya. From the flustered look on her face, something Sammy didn't particularly like.
Soon after, Irina made her way towards the duo, striking up a conversation. Cocking an eyebrow, Ilario took his seat and stole another glance at his watch. He had some time to spare. And whatever it was Abigail wanted seemed important to her. Rubbing the back of his head, he leaned back in his chair and waited for whatever it was that she needed him for.
"... I have to give the victory to the Pro side. I feel like you guys were able to expand on each others' arguments a bit better..."
Huh, wha? Oh. We won. Good then.
He hadn't exactly been sleeping but Vincent had pretty much zoned out the moment Irina had started talking, content to bask in the quiet adulation he knew his argument had won him. Yeah. He hated to be repetitive, but he really had been shit-hot today.
Yeah. Look at Harold and Roland. Shit-scared, the pair of them. Like trying to follow Lenin. Or Elvis. Some kind of Lenin-Elvis hybrid. Gene splicing and shit. Does that exist? It sounds like it should exist.
Vincent mentally shook himself and glanced around the room. Now that the result had been announced things were beginning to break up. Markham had already made a run for it. Everyone else seemed content to simply file off into groups and talk to the people they actually liked, which made a nice change.
Mmm, refreshing honesty. Like Mama used to make.
He lent on one of the desks, cracking open another Dr. Pepper. He watched the room idly, standing just a few feet away from Irina as Abigail scuttled over to Ilario before just as abruptly scuttling off again. He raised his eyebrows slightly but thought nothing of it. Most likely scenario: she was just afraid that Ilario was going to stuff her in the back of a van, tie her to a chair and explain the top fifty reasons why Bayview was nothing more than a cesspool of ignorami. Dick.
Still, dick or not, Ilario did seem to have the attention of most of the girls in the room and this was a matter which needed addressing. After a hearty quaff of the Doctor, Vincent flicked his fringe and made his way over to Abigail and Sammy, who seemed to be conversing in terse whispers. He announced his presence with a languorous wave, treating Samya to a one-armed hug.
"Hey, Aby, Samuel. Hot debate, no? Got my juices flowing. Don't think it did much for Captain Kwong but hey, like my dear mother used to say, life isn't always about impressing old Chinese men."
Is he Chinese? He looks Chinese.
"So, anyone hungry? Never thought I'd say this but I'm jonesin' for some cafeteria stool. Looks like I'm institutionalised".
He grinned at the pair of them, his eyes only briefly flicking towards Ilario.
Huh, wha? Oh. We won. Good then.
He hadn't exactly been sleeping but Vincent had pretty much zoned out the moment Irina had started talking, content to bask in the quiet adulation he knew his argument had won him. Yeah. He hated to be repetitive, but he really had been shit-hot today.
Yeah. Look at Harold and Roland. Shit-scared, the pair of them. Like trying to follow Lenin. Or Elvis. Some kind of Lenin-Elvis hybrid. Gene splicing and shit. Does that exist? It sounds like it should exist.
Vincent mentally shook himself and glanced around the room. Now that the result had been announced things were beginning to break up. Markham had already made a run for it. Everyone else seemed content to simply file off into groups and talk to the people they actually liked, which made a nice change.
Mmm, refreshing honesty. Like Mama used to make.
He lent on one of the desks, cracking open another Dr. Pepper. He watched the room idly, standing just a few feet away from Irina as Abigail scuttled over to Ilario before just as abruptly scuttling off again. He raised his eyebrows slightly but thought nothing of it. Most likely scenario: she was just afraid that Ilario was going to stuff her in the back of a van, tie her to a chair and explain the top fifty reasons why Bayview was nothing more than a cesspool of ignorami. Dick.
Still, dick or not, Ilario did seem to have the attention of most of the girls in the room and this was a matter which needed addressing. After a hearty quaff of the Doctor, Vincent flicked his fringe and made his way over to Abigail and Sammy, who seemed to be conversing in terse whispers. He announced his presence with a languorous wave, treating Samya to a one-armed hug.
"Hey, Aby, Samuel. Hot debate, no? Got my juices flowing. Don't think it did much for Captain Kwong but hey, like my dear mother used to say, life isn't always about impressing old Chinese men."
Is he Chinese? He looks Chinese.
"So, anyone hungry? Never thought I'd say this but I'm jonesin' for some cafeteria stool. Looks like I'm institutionalised".
He grinned at the pair of them, his eyes only briefly flicking towards Ilario.
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Pigeon Army*
- Posts: 232
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 6:17 am
((OOC: Sorry about the wait here. 
))
"WHAT?! Oh, jeez Roland, don't sneak up on me like that."
Max had zoned out at about the time Abigail revealed the results, and while he was happy that his team had won, he couldn't help but be dissatisfied at the way he'd debated. It was messy, rushed, clumsy - all the bad habits he'd been trying to wean himself off, he'd been resorting to them without a care.
Roland's question had broken Max's self-deprecating trance, and the imposing student was staring at him in a jokingly threatening way, making Max wonder just how long he'd been zoned out for.
"Ah, schoolwork. Got a Physics assignment due in next week, and I've not even started it yet. 'Fraid I can't hang out, but you know how it is with Herr Furkert, heh."
Mr Furkert was one of the school's senior Physics teachers, and Max had been unlucky enough to pull him as a teacher. It made a hard subject even harder for Max, with that vulture-like man breathing down his neck and yelling sporadically. But if there was one thing Mr Furkert hated the most, it was students who put the minimum of work into their work. And Max had no intention of being hated by the man, though the year hadn't got off to a fantastic start with Max's paper on kinetic energy and different types of ball, something Furkert had berated as "primary school level schiesse".
"What about you? You got anything planned?"
))"WHAT?! Oh, jeez Roland, don't sneak up on me like that."
Max had zoned out at about the time Abigail revealed the results, and while he was happy that his team had won, he couldn't help but be dissatisfied at the way he'd debated. It was messy, rushed, clumsy - all the bad habits he'd been trying to wean himself off, he'd been resorting to them without a care.
Roland's question had broken Max's self-deprecating trance, and the imposing student was staring at him in a jokingly threatening way, making Max wonder just how long he'd been zoned out for.
"Ah, schoolwork. Got a Physics assignment due in next week, and I've not even started it yet. 'Fraid I can't hang out, but you know how it is with Herr Furkert, heh."
Mr Furkert was one of the school's senior Physics teachers, and Max had been unlucky enough to pull him as a teacher. It made a hard subject even harder for Max, with that vulture-like man breathing down his neck and yelling sporadically. But if there was one thing Mr Furkert hated the most, it was students who put the minimum of work into their work. And Max had no intention of being hated by the man, though the year hadn't got off to a fantastic start with Max's paper on kinetic energy and different types of ball, something Furkert had berated as "primary school level schiesse".
"What about you? You got anything planned?"
"Damn," Roland said, both as a reaction to getting shot down and out of sympathy to Max's plight. He did indeed know what it felt like to be screamed at by that fuckbucket Furkert. The old buzzard knew that Roland's heart wasn't into physics, regardless of how much effort he put into it. He berated Roland for daring to place his interests outside the cold, hard bosom of science and focusing on humanities. Whatever. Who needed that cunt, anyway?
"Well, aside from asking Abby or maybe Ilario to hang out, I can look forward to another evening alone, gathering information and making posts online. Obviously I still need to spread the word a bit more." He glanced over his shoulder at Harold when he began this last sentence. He had nothing against Harold personally, it was just mind-boggling that people still bought into the lie that SOTF was a reailty show. Sure, it was marketed and merchandised as such, but people really died on those islands, for fuck's sake! How could they ignore the evidence? Did they see it as an overly elaborate viral marketing campaign?
"So," he said, interrupting his own train of thought for the sake of his blood pressure. "What do you suppose Abby said that's got Samya hot and bothered?" He had an inkling of what this was about, but couldn't be sure as of yet. Maybe Samya's reaction had nothing to do with Ilario, and she was just planning on asking Ilario to do her a favor. He'd see soon enough.
"Well, aside from asking Abby or maybe Ilario to hang out, I can look forward to another evening alone, gathering information and making posts online. Obviously I still need to spread the word a bit more." He glanced over his shoulder at Harold when he began this last sentence. He had nothing against Harold personally, it was just mind-boggling that people still bought into the lie that SOTF was a reailty show. Sure, it was marketed and merchandised as such, but people really died on those islands, for fuck's sake! How could they ignore the evidence? Did they see it as an overly elaborate viral marketing campaign?
"So," he said, interrupting his own train of thought for the sake of his blood pressure. "What do you suppose Abby said that's got Samya hot and bothered?" He had an inkling of what this was about, but couldn't be sure as of yet. Maybe Samya's reaction had nothing to do with Ilario, and she was just planning on asking Ilario to do her a favor. He'd see soon enough.
It always ended this way. After every single debate the team did, the meeting always seemed to degenerate into casual conversation and discussion of things that Harold couldn't care less about. The prom for one. Standing up and walking over to the door to leave, he stopped to turn around when Vincent suggested going to the cafeteria and getting some food. While he hadn't been one of the invited parties, he was considering whether or not to ask Mr. Murdoch about whether or not he could come along, and had even started opening his mouth to speak before thinking against it.
Ah, what is the point of it? I probably would just ruin things for everyone by insulting their families or something like that. Better to let them have fun and eat by himself.
While Harold realized his obnoxious nature, it didn't really feel like it was worth it to change himself. Far too much effort, and nobody would believe that he had changed anyway. Besides, having a repulsive nature usually meant that he could get a table to himself. Or everyone would steal the tables and refuse to let him sit at one, but he didn't mind eating outside or in the library.
People will always be jerks to people who are fat and speak their mind. I can hardly fight back.
And so, without a word to those assembled, aside from a quick "Thank you for the meeting" to Mr. Kwong, the pudgy man stepped out, hoping that he could find a good place to eat at.
(Harold Fisher continued in Eleuthera)
Ah, what is the point of it? I probably would just ruin things for everyone by insulting their families or something like that. Better to let them have fun and eat by himself.
While Harold realized his obnoxious nature, it didn't really feel like it was worth it to change himself. Far too much effort, and nobody would believe that he had changed anyway. Besides, having a repulsive nature usually meant that he could get a table to himself. Or everyone would steal the tables and refuse to let him sit at one, but he didn't mind eating outside or in the library.
People will always be jerks to people who are fat and speak their mind. I can hardly fight back.
And so, without a word to those assembled, aside from a quick "Thank you for the meeting" to Mr. Kwong, the pudgy man stepped out, hoping that he could find a good place to eat at.
(Harold Fisher continued in Eleuthera)
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Pigeon Army*
- Posts: 232
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 6:17 am
((OOC: This is becoming more and more commonplace for me, but sorry about the delay. Uni and swine flu have distracted me. If I am interrupting the post order, however, that's my mistake.))
Roland seemed a bit downhearted by Max's admission, but everyone in school knew what Furkert was like, and Max knew his buddy would understand.
"Well, aside from asking Abby or maybe Ilario to hang out, I can look forward to another evening alone, gathering information and making posts online. Obviously I still need to spread the word a bit more."
"Sounds like a fun night," Max chuckled. Roland's passionate activism against that Survival of the Fittest show was an oddly endearing facet to the large, imposing guy. Max had never watched the show, and he always felt a bit odd about that, given how much of a political football that television show was these days. However, it wasn't something that was causing him any loss of sleep, and it always amused him to hear Roland bitching about how he was going to correct people on the internet.
"So, what do you suppose Abby said that's got Samya hot and bothered?"
"Huh?" Max scanned the room to find her, and his eyes locked on the duo of debating lasses. He thought for a second, before shrugging and confessing, "I've got nothing. Maybe she's got detention or something." He chuckled to himself quietly, before stretching his arms and pushing himself up out of his chair. He picked up his bag and nodded at Roland.
"You have a good night, eh?" Off the cuff, he added in his stereotypical old person voice, "Give those bloggers what for, eh, my old bean!" He laughed and made for the door, waving to people and nodding at them as he left. He had an assignment to do, a student council to convene before the end of the week, and a myriad of other pressing things to do.
It was going to be a tight week.
((Max Neill continued in Captain's Orders))
Roland seemed a bit downhearted by Max's admission, but everyone in school knew what Furkert was like, and Max knew his buddy would understand.
"Well, aside from asking Abby or maybe Ilario to hang out, I can look forward to another evening alone, gathering information and making posts online. Obviously I still need to spread the word a bit more."
"Sounds like a fun night," Max chuckled. Roland's passionate activism against that Survival of the Fittest show was an oddly endearing facet to the large, imposing guy. Max had never watched the show, and he always felt a bit odd about that, given how much of a political football that television show was these days. However, it wasn't something that was causing him any loss of sleep, and it always amused him to hear Roland bitching about how he was going to correct people on the internet.
"So, what do you suppose Abby said that's got Samya hot and bothered?"
"Huh?" Max scanned the room to find her, and his eyes locked on the duo of debating lasses. He thought for a second, before shrugging and confessing, "I've got nothing. Maybe she's got detention or something." He chuckled to himself quietly, before stretching his arms and pushing himself up out of his chair. He picked up his bag and nodded at Roland.
"You have a good night, eh?" Off the cuff, he added in his stereotypical old person voice, "Give those bloggers what for, eh, my old bean!" He laughed and made for the door, waving to people and nodding at them as he left. He had an assignment to do, a student council to convene before the end of the week, and a myriad of other pressing things to do.
It was going to be a tight week.
((Max Neill continued in Captain's Orders))
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DetectiveArcher*
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
((Landlocked has taken a seemingly permanent leave of absence, and left Abigail to be handled by me, for the time being. Sorry for the wait.))
A wave of relief pulsed through Abigail, as Sammy promised to act as back up. The anxiety of her situation hadn't faded away, not by a long shot, but it had suddenly become more bearable. At least she thought it had. Her stomach fluttered, butterflies flitting excitedly to and fro in her stomach.
This would be it, just a few quick words strung together to ask for a date. Not that hard, really. Nothing to it at all, except to go for it. The worst thing he could say was 'no,' right? Right. That would be pretty horrible. Flushing lightly as she steeled herself, Abigail nodded to Samya, who suddenly was looking somewhat pale. Looking closer at her friend, Abby cocked her head to the side. "Something wrong?"
Hastily joining the conversation, Irina broken in with praise for Samya's debating prowess. Abigail found herself frowning slightly. It wasn't a great setback, but it did seem a bit inconvenient for another person to try to strike up a conversation at such a critical moment. "So," the blond exchange student probed hesitantly, "what are you two planning to do now?"
Feeling another short flush of heat tinge her cheeks, Abigail cast a glance at Sammy, before averting her gaze towards to ground. The moment passed as she cleared her throat and looked from Irina to Ilario. "W-well," she began, only to be cut off by another sudden addition to their group.
Vincent Murdoch waved lazily, before dropping his arm around Sammy's shoulder and making another of his jokes. It wasn't really amusing, but that might have been because Abigail happened to know that Mr. Kwong was Korean, not Chinese. Before she had a chance to correct him, Vincent was already suggesting the group get lunch.
Shaking her head, Aby politely declined. "Maybe in a second. I've, uhm...got something to do. So...yeah, I'll be back in a second, alright? Remember, wish me luck, Sammy, okay?"
With that, not wanting to be interrupted for a third time, she turned back towards Ilario. Fiddling with his pocket watch, appearing to be somewhat flustered, he looked very...cute. That was a good word for him. He wasn't attractive in a traditional, masculine sense, but he was still good looking. He certainly wasn't gorgeous or handsome. Just, well...cute.
Forcing her mind back to a more rational state, she chided herself. She shouldn't get so distracted, especially just before something so important. Gathering her wits about her once more, she returned to his side.
------------------------------------------------
A few minutes of unsure, anxious waiting later, Abigail reappeared next to Ilario's desk. Sensing something in her stance, or perhaps the way her fingers timidly danced together, he rose from his seat. "Is something wrong?" he asked, using every bit of his self-control to keep from stumbling over the words. The brunette shook her head.
Not a good sign. If Abigail was at a loss for words, it meant that what she had to say was nothing immaterial. Oh, Christ he was going to get kicked off the team for doing so poorly. How could he have been so careless?! "Well, then," he said slowly, allowing his mind to for a coherent question. "Is there something...I can do for you?"
"Well," she began, in the same slow, considered approach he had taken, "there's something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh?" It was all he could muster, for a moment. "What's that?"
"I was wondering if you'd...." She trailed off a moment, weakness edging into her voice before she discovered her nerve once more. "I was wondering if you'd go to prom. With me."
The question sent his mind reeling, his jaw nearly dropping. Blushing furiously, he fought to keep his face impassive after being so blindsided. Whatever it was he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. Had he done something, maybe said something that would make her think he was attracted to her? Certainly she was intriguing in her own way. Perhaps even somewhat attractive, if one was being generous. Not that Ilario was so enamored with physical qualities.
What was he supposed he say? A simple yes would work, wouldn't it? But...what if he agreed to go and disappointed her? What if he did something stupid? Could he keep it together all night. He'd never been on a...date. He felt his breathing begin to speed up. Not good. Oh, Christ, definitely not good.
Why would she want to go with him anyway? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. She must have some strange thought as to the type of person he was. What if he wasn't the person she thought she knew? What if he went with her and she had a sudden rush of sense? What if he freaked out or broke down? Why was this so hard? He didn't even like her for God's sake! His throat tightened at the thought, his palms sweating as he clenched and unclenched them.
"I...uh...." He struggled to find the words. Eloquent thought fled as the sudden, oppressive weight of fear strangled the life out of higher brain function. "I've...already got plans." The lie came abruptly, almost without thought. He wanted to shrink away, disappear. A merciful God would strike him dead. He fidgeted, waiting for the forthcoming lightning bolt.
The long pause and absent of divine retribution was almost as guilt wracking as the quiet "Oh," that Abigail finally mustered. Almost. "W-well, if you've already got plans, I understand. N-no hard feelings, right?" She gave a bright smile that didn't touch her eyes. "Yes...of course. No hard feelings." Why did it feel like he'd just been the one to be turned down? After another long pause, Ilario cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry." It was all he could think of. The fact made him feel worse. "If...uhm. If you'll excuse me. I've got to meet my sisters in a little bit." She nodded, still smiling her false smile. "Oh, right. No problem! Sure, I'll just...uh, see you later. Yeah?"
He nodded, before shouldering his messenger bag. He thought he should say something, but couldn't force anything meaningful to coalesce into anything worth saying. Instead, he opted for another feeble apology and left.
Taking a moment to center herself again, Abigail looked back at Sammy and shook her head. The gesture taking the last of her energy, Aby decided it would be best to sit down, taking the seat that Ilario so recently vacated. She'd known he might have declined, but it still hurt. She immediately regretted asking at all.
((Ilario continued elsewhere.))
A wave of relief pulsed through Abigail, as Sammy promised to act as back up. The anxiety of her situation hadn't faded away, not by a long shot, but it had suddenly become more bearable. At least she thought it had. Her stomach fluttered, butterflies flitting excitedly to and fro in her stomach.
This would be it, just a few quick words strung together to ask for a date. Not that hard, really. Nothing to it at all, except to go for it. The worst thing he could say was 'no,' right? Right. That would be pretty horrible. Flushing lightly as she steeled herself, Abigail nodded to Samya, who suddenly was looking somewhat pale. Looking closer at her friend, Abby cocked her head to the side. "Something wrong?"
Hastily joining the conversation, Irina broken in with praise for Samya's debating prowess. Abigail found herself frowning slightly. It wasn't a great setback, but it did seem a bit inconvenient for another person to try to strike up a conversation at such a critical moment. "So," the blond exchange student probed hesitantly, "what are you two planning to do now?"
Feeling another short flush of heat tinge her cheeks, Abigail cast a glance at Sammy, before averting her gaze towards to ground. The moment passed as she cleared her throat and looked from Irina to Ilario. "W-well," she began, only to be cut off by another sudden addition to their group.
Vincent Murdoch waved lazily, before dropping his arm around Sammy's shoulder and making another of his jokes. It wasn't really amusing, but that might have been because Abigail happened to know that Mr. Kwong was Korean, not Chinese. Before she had a chance to correct him, Vincent was already suggesting the group get lunch.
Shaking her head, Aby politely declined. "Maybe in a second. I've, uhm...got something to do. So...yeah, I'll be back in a second, alright? Remember, wish me luck, Sammy, okay?"
With that, not wanting to be interrupted for a third time, she turned back towards Ilario. Fiddling with his pocket watch, appearing to be somewhat flustered, he looked very...cute. That was a good word for him. He wasn't attractive in a traditional, masculine sense, but he was still good looking. He certainly wasn't gorgeous or handsome. Just, well...cute.
Forcing her mind back to a more rational state, she chided herself. She shouldn't get so distracted, especially just before something so important. Gathering her wits about her once more, she returned to his side.
------------------------------------------------
A few minutes of unsure, anxious waiting later, Abigail reappeared next to Ilario's desk. Sensing something in her stance, or perhaps the way her fingers timidly danced together, he rose from his seat. "Is something wrong?" he asked, using every bit of his self-control to keep from stumbling over the words. The brunette shook her head.
Not a good sign. If Abigail was at a loss for words, it meant that what she had to say was nothing immaterial. Oh, Christ he was going to get kicked off the team for doing so poorly. How could he have been so careless?! "Well, then," he said slowly, allowing his mind to for a coherent question. "Is there something...I can do for you?"
"Well," she began, in the same slow, considered approach he had taken, "there's something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh?" It was all he could muster, for a moment. "What's that?"
"I was wondering if you'd...." She trailed off a moment, weakness edging into her voice before she discovered her nerve once more. "I was wondering if you'd go to prom. With me."
The question sent his mind reeling, his jaw nearly dropping. Blushing furiously, he fought to keep his face impassive after being so blindsided. Whatever it was he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. Had he done something, maybe said something that would make her think he was attracted to her? Certainly she was intriguing in her own way. Perhaps even somewhat attractive, if one was being generous. Not that Ilario was so enamored with physical qualities.
What was he supposed he say? A simple yes would work, wouldn't it? But...what if he agreed to go and disappointed her? What if he did something stupid? Could he keep it together all night. He'd never been on a...date. He felt his breathing begin to speed up. Not good. Oh, Christ, definitely not good.
Why would she want to go with him anyway? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. She must have some strange thought as to the type of person he was. What if he wasn't the person she thought she knew? What if he went with her and she had a sudden rush of sense? What if he freaked out or broke down? Why was this so hard? He didn't even like her for God's sake! His throat tightened at the thought, his palms sweating as he clenched and unclenched them.
"I...uh...." He struggled to find the words. Eloquent thought fled as the sudden, oppressive weight of fear strangled the life out of higher brain function. "I've...already got plans." The lie came abruptly, almost without thought. He wanted to shrink away, disappear. A merciful God would strike him dead. He fidgeted, waiting for the forthcoming lightning bolt.
The long pause and absent of divine retribution was almost as guilt wracking as the quiet "Oh," that Abigail finally mustered. Almost. "W-well, if you've already got plans, I understand. N-no hard feelings, right?" She gave a bright smile that didn't touch her eyes. "Yes...of course. No hard feelings." Why did it feel like he'd just been the one to be turned down? After another long pause, Ilario cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry." It was all he could think of. The fact made him feel worse. "If...uhm. If you'll excuse me. I've got to meet my sisters in a little bit." She nodded, still smiling her false smile. "Oh, right. No problem! Sure, I'll just...uh, see you later. Yeah?"
He nodded, before shouldering his messenger bag. He thought he should say something, but couldn't force anything meaningful to coalesce into anything worth saying. Instead, he opted for another feeble apology and left.
Taking a moment to center herself again, Abigail looked back at Sammy and shook her head. The gesture taking the last of her energy, Aby decided it would be best to sit down, taking the seat that Ilario so recently vacated. She'd known he might have declined, but it still hurt. She immediately regretted asking at all.
((Ilario continued elsewhere.))