Survival Of The Fittest

((Abigail Atkins continued from Scientist Studies))

Well, it had been a long day, but it was finally over.

That didn't mean she could afford to be lax, though.

In her usual rush, Abigail slammed the door to the classroom against the wall, the resulting bang causing her to drop one of the books she was carrying in alarm.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry!" she exhaled and fumbled to pick it back up, "I just wanted to be on time, I was in a hurr-"

...Nobody was in the room. That was odd. Mr. Kwong, the calculus teacher who usually acted as the TA for the debate team and provided them with most of their prompts was never late - his last class of the day was in the same room as the debate team's meetings, so why would he be? Maybe the meeting was canceled, Abigail mused as she placed her books in a neat little pile on the nearest desk. That would be disappointing... sure, it meant she had more time to finish her work and catch up on her shows tonight, but the meetings were always so much fun, and she enjoyed the company of so many of the people that were a part of the club... it was relaxing, in a strange way. Cautiously, as if worried she would somehow get in trouble for sitting in an empty classroom, Abigail took a seat at the desk, placing herself behind the small mountain of books and papers she knew she had to scale tonight. Maybe Mr. Kwong had just stepped out. Heck, even if the meeting was canceled, she could at least let anyone else that happened to show up know, too.

...And maybe stay to chat just a little bit. Maybe it was a little lazy of her, but today had just been so stressful, and she didn't want to have to face her homework the moment school ended...

Richard Han strode down the corridor, a folder full of calculus papers under his arm. He didn't mind hanging around after a school for a while, as much as he liked being at home, with the kitchen and the chaos. This time he had an "appointment" with Mr. Kwong, hence the calculus papers.

Kwong was a dedicated kind of teacher, he thought, thinking whether adding "sensei" would show more respect to the master mathematician. I mean, hanging around after school to help a student with maths? That's pretty dedicated. Admittedly, he's really here to help the debating team, but even that's something a lot of teachers wouldn't even consider...

He was coming up to the room, counting the door numbers down as he went by, really, he knew exactly where he was going, but somehow it felt appropriate.

hmm, 24, 23, 22... 21, this is it.

He was a little surprised to open the door and find the classroom empty, almost empty anyway.

"Oh, hi Abi, is Kwong-sensei around here anywhere?"

(Harold Fisher continued from The Dirty Version)

Harold always enjoyed participating on the Debate Team, though he wasn't sure that people enjoyed him being there. Sure, he actually took the time to dress nicely and do something with his hair, but putting a fresh coat of paint on a house does nothing to muffle the obnoxious noises coming from the interior. A compulsion to loudly get up into everyone else's business was not a very attractive trait for creating friendships or long-term romantic relationships. Not that Harold attended school for either of those.

Stepping through the door of the mathematics classroom, which housed the headquarters of the debate team, the first thing that struck Harold was that the place was nearly empty. This was odd, as he had checked the group's website before going to the meeting, and he hadn't seen anything about the meeting being called off. Still, he recognized at least one member, a young lady named Abigail Atkins. Why nobody else was here yet, Harold didn't know, but he decided to roll with it and wait. Maybe everyone else was delayed somehow.

You would think that there'd be more people, unless debate has gone out of fashion since the last meeting.

((Markham Connor continued from A Blank Paper and a Blank Mind))

His classes were done, his notes were taken, and his little black book was open as he read down the list of people he had analyzed. He didn't find anything too damning or interesting today and it was mostly just random actions that the people had done in the middle of class. There was that girl who kept picking at a mole at the side of her neck. That had been something to note down, at least.

Now it was time for his debate club and Markham headed towards the math building with some annoyance. It wasn't that he hated debate or anything, but the impulse to turn your opponents into idiotic strongmen were way too difficult to try to control. He tried his best to restrain his urge to call the other side full of moronic idiots who couldn't even tie their shoes if they were given a detailed list of instructions, but he was certain he came off smug and condescending at times.

It was something he was trying to correct since he couldn't afford to sound like that later on when he would be presenting his research findings. So he had joined the club to try to fix himself. It wasn't the best solution and didn't even seem to work that well but it was something. He turned into the classroom and nearly bumped straight into someone else. Some Asian kid he didn't know.

He muttered a quick sorry before sliding into the room and looking to see who else was there. Abigail and Harold. He slid into a seat and snapped his book shut, smirking a little. "A little empty today, huh? I wonder where the others are."

((Samya Franklin countinued from Bowling for Soup))

Samya Franklin hated being late. She had fallen asleep hard in her last class. After running to her locker and gathering her things, she made her way to the math buliding. After four years of meeting here, she still rather despied it. Math was not now or ever going to be her thing. Mr. Kwong was cool enough though. He was the only reason she bothered to take Calculus this year.

She ran down the hall to Room 21. Swinging the door open, she ran in to see that . . . there were only three other members there. Good. At least she wasn't the last one. No one can say the black girl's always late. Besides, chatting before the meeting started was as fun as it got. Once it got rolling, people went into "Debate Mode" and took no prisoners.

Sammy got a jumbo candy bar out of her bag and sat down by the rest of the group. "Hey guys, wonder why everybody's so late?", she shrugged. "And does anybody want some of this, before I take a bite?"

((Whoops, sorry Sunny, I was posting at the same time as you, didn't mean to ignore you there. Fixed.))

Abigail was a bit put off by Richard - not to say that she disliked him, the two shared a few classes and he was a pretty nice guy, if one that she didn't know very well, but he definitely wasn't on the debate team. What was he doing here? His question, though, made things a little clearer. "Hey, Richard," she responded, and with an exasperated smile added "I have no idea where he is. He's supposed to be TAing the debate team, so I dunno why he wouldn't be here. Unless he just got sick of all of us or something."

Harold and Markham were much more familiar faces, although Abigail had to admit she wasn't entirely happy to see the both of them. Markham was an okay guy, if a little quiet, but Harold, well... she hesitated to use a word like obnoxious, but for her he was just... a bit much sometimes. It wasn't even that he was spiteful, but he just came off a bit condescending when he was arguing, and the attitude stayed with him outside of actual debates, as well. Still, she got along with him relatively well, partly because she never had the guts to actually voice these opinions. After all, it was debate, this kind of activity was bound to attract argumentative types just by its nature, and it wasn't like she wasn't guilty of the same kind of problem every once in a while.

...And there was Sammy. She, on the other hand, was definitely someone Abigail was happy to see. She brought so much energy to the team, and she was so funny! It was people like her that always made Abigail happy to come to the meetings every week.

"Hey, guys. I dunno if you heard that, but uh, I guess you can tell Mr. Kwong isn't here. I was just planning on hanging around and waiting for him and just catching a late bus if he doesn't show up, unless you want to try to organize something ourselves or something like that."

Truth be told, Abigail would've preferred to just do the hanging around part. Starting a debate without Mr. Kwong there to sort of referee them felt a bit odd to her - peoples' arguments, her own included, would probably drag on forever and go off on all sorts of tangents if he wasn't there to keep things on track. The team was much more cohesive that way - without him what were they besides a bunch of teenagers sitting around arguing about random things? Maybe she should try to steer the conversation away from trying to organize their own debate. Fortunately, Sammy gave her something of an opportunity to do just that.

"Ooh, I will definitely take you up on that," Abigail said, responding to her edible offer, "I'm starving, I usually have a snack during chemistry after lunch, but I didn't have time today. They're piling on the work so hard, I swear..."

...Ugh, why would Mr. Kwong just not show up without saying anything? Maybe he got sick or had something else to do and just forgot to mention it? He must've had to leave in a hurry if he just neglected to say anything to anyone...

((Irina Burlachenko continued from Fencing))

Irina had forgotten to tie her heels properly. Great; now she was stumbling all over the school, holding a half-open backpack to her chest and risking a broken ankle. Her schedule was so out of whack it wasn't even funny. First she was late to Fencing, and now Debate. Someone up there in Heaven really hated her. Irina paused for a moment to get herself in order before continuing her madman's dash- pat hair down, retie heels, zip backpack, okay, good. She was still somewhat unfamiliar with the route to the Calculus room, and her harried state of mind didn't help the matter much. But, sure enough, there was Kwong's room, down the hall, not too far ahead.

The room was rather quiet when she entered, and to Irina's relief Mr. Kwong wasn't present. "Is the meeting still on?" she asked, looking around at her teammates. Irina would've had egg on her face if she returned to the gym now, talking in such a panic before fleeing practice. Don't panic, she told herself. "So...how is everyone?" Irina asked brightly, hoping to infuse the room with some sort of pep. "Am I the only one who got here a tad off-clock?"

"Hey, Richard,"
"I have no idea where he is. He's supposed to be TAing the debate team, so I dunno why he wouldn't be here. Unless he just got sick of all of us or something."

"Oh, thanks. Hmm, might be stuck in the staff..." someone barged past him, the hell? he looked around quickly, but it looked like the guy was totally oblivious. "...room."

He gestured a wave to Abi and turned to leave, when some other guy almost ran into him. eh, at least this one said sorry "uh, no problem."

Walking back down the corridor, two girls ran past him one after the other, the second one looking even more harried than the first. He couldn't help but smirk a little at all of these people running in "late" seeing as they were all getting there at the same sort of time. He wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Kwong had delayed the meeting and nobody had got the message, which sure would explain the break from his usual punctuality.

After a while he reached the staff room, knocked on the door and half opened it. There were a few teachers hanging around, chatting, marking papers. The room was organised into rows of desks, with dividers between them for hanging things on. like shelves, or their childrens' crayon masterpieces; come to think of it, there were a few really good portraits and hanging around, probably a gift from some old student or another.
"Mr. Kwong?"
"Yeah?" His head popped over the nearest divider, "Richard! just a sec."
He got up from his desk and came to talk at the door, "no students in the staffroom" was more of a habit than a rule now that school was over, but he got up anyway.
"Hey sir, just here with the extra work you asked for."
"Ah, great, looks good, your working out looks a lot better, easy to follow."
"Thanks sir, also, the debating team's getting organised, Abigail seemed to be waiting for you."
"Oh, right, kind of snowed under with work at the moment, might head up there in a sec, I'm sure they can organise themselves."
"Anyway, bye sir, thanks for the help."
"No problem, keep at it!" He walked back to his desk, leafing through the calc work he'd just been left with. Richard headed back down the hallway, feeling a little hungry and thinking of all the lovely food that was waiting for him at home.

(( Richard Han continued in : Han's Kitchen ))

"No, Irina," replied Harold without looking up from his desk, "you are not late, just our TA." Sitting quietly in the back of the classroom, Harold had given a wave to each new member who had come in. He recognized them all from previous meetings, though he hadn't placed a name to each one yet. Due to the slow start, he had been tempted to take out his laptop and take advantage of the campus's ample amount of wireless internet. That's when the people had piled in. While certain that Dr. Kwong would eventually arrive, he felt that it would be smart to get the ball rolling until he arrived, because they'd just be wasting time otherwise.

"I hope that Dr. Kwong will be here eventually," he said to all those gathered, "but for now, we should just get started, yes?" Harold never minded talking up and trying to take charge, even though he wasn't club president. Perhaps it could be interpreted as a power play of some kind, but it was mostly his lack of tolerance for people who wasted time with talking when they could be debating. Silly though that would sound to other people, Harold knew the difference between the two.

Standing up and walking over to join the rest, Harold ran his fingers across his slightly length hair to adjust it back to a semi-tidy position. "So," he said, "anyone care to start? I want to begin as soon as possible, with or without a referee. We can put him up to speed on what we've done, and he can judge if we're going off track."

(I find it hilarious that in the math thread Mr. Kwong was like an asshole and here he's all awesome.)

It was kind of amazing how everyone seemed to file in one after another. It was like synchronized lateness. Undoubtedly Mr. Kwong would show up late as well and then they could actually start the show. He didn't mind. It was kind of funny seeing everyone run in late only to realize that their very own TA was absent. The first entrant (after him, of course) in this line of tardiness was Samya Franklin, a cheerful girl that immediately found a seat and offered them all candy. She was nice, energetic, and always had a smile ready for newcomers. It was good for the club to have someone like her around since her attitude was good for soothing irritated tempers during some of the more...heated debates that had occurred in the past. He knew he didn't have the patience or ability to reconcile differences that easily. He declined her offer of candy with a small wave and a shake of his head, though.

Next up on the list was Irina Burlachenko, a senior that Markham found very attractive and he probably would have tried to ask her out on a date if he had any confidence or drive to make something like that happen. He still didn't know much about her besides what he knew from random debates and if things continued in the same track as they did now, he wouldn't even try. It was a shame, but he was more concerned with his research and his future prospects than getting a girlfriend that most likely wouldn't last to college (and thus be completely useless since he was a senior). He gave a nod towards her as she entered and replied to her question with a noncommittal "Nah, we were all pretty much late."

It was then that Harold proposed that they just start up a debate. He didn't mind starting immediately, but they didn't have sides or even a short list of pros and cons they could use to word their arguments around. Hell, they didn't even have a topic yet. They could have discussed abortion like they had done a couple of weeks ago, but he didn't want to touch that subject again with a ten foot pole. Who knew, maybe Harold had some great idea to get them started on. Maybe they'd just continue with last meeting's topic. He still had his notes in his backpack.

He leaned back on his chair and shrugged. "I don't care. Either way is fine with me."

No point in choosing sides now. He'd just sit back and observe. You only needed to choose a side when you were forced to.

Mr. Kwong not being there yet threw everything off. Had he ever even been late before? If so, she couldn't remember when. Speaking of lateness, Irina had come rushing in after her. She looked more than a little bit stressed. Of course, she had been running pretty fast. Wasn't she in fencing, too? Sammy had never been to a fencing match before, but she'd heard Irina was pretty good. Maybe she'd go see one of these days.

Having almost finished her giant Hershey bar, Sammy considered Harold's suggestion. She could jump into a debate as well as anyone else here. But she really didn't want to start the meeting with only five members present. Considering the debate team had about fifteen members and that you could generally count on at least ten of them being at the meeting, it didn't feel right to start yet. Plus, starting without out a referee always led to people playing serious hardball.

Markham really didn't care one way or another, which likely made Harold happy. She liked Harold well enough and he was whip-smart, but he tended to get rather cranky when you didn't have his point of view. It was fun during debates, but before and after them it was a bit of a pain. She hoped he wouldn't get too mad at her.

Here goes nothing. "Why don't we give it a few more minutes? It's just the five of us here, and if everyone does show up we'll have to bring them all up to speed. We could come up with a topic while we wait." She smiled, a little nervous. "So what do you guys think?"

Abigail offered Irina the sweetest smile she could and a wave as she made her presence known, but in all honesty, she was too frustrated at this point to be much more friendly than that. Harold would be the one to jump at the suggestion they continue on their own. Well... there wasn't any changing it now, the others would probably agree, and who was she to stop them? Maybe a debate would help take her mind off of the stress of work after all, whether Mr. Kwong was there or not.

"Why don't we give it a few more minutes? It's just the five of us here, and if everyone does show up we'll have to bring them all up to speed. We could come up with a topic while we wait."

...Phew. That would make things a bit easier. She did not tell Samya how great she was often enough. "Yeah, I agree," Abigail answered, quick to get a word in before anyone else could, "Even if Mr. Kwong doesn't show up we can at least wait for a few of the others to. If they're coming, anyway. Have you guys got any ideas?"

Feeling a bit less agitated now, Abigail settled more into her seat, going through the last few meetings in her mind. They'd covered specific things like abortion and stem cell research... they'd argued about much more abstract things, like the old "tree falling in a forest" question, and whether anything truly existed if it wasn't sensed... there was that week that they'd had that big discussion about Survival of the Fittest... urgh, she preferred not to think about that. Besides the fact that it was NOT a subject she would EVER have ANY kind of interest in, the debate itself had gotten a bit out of control and gone off in strange directions...

Fortunately, Abigail wasn't at a loss for other ideas for discussion. It had become a habit of hers to surf the internet a few days before a meeting to find good subjects to debate, and she'd recently discovered quite a few online forums devoted solely to debating various topics. Sure, a lot of the time the arguments began to devolve into flinging insults back and forth, but it was still a goldmine of ideas. One in particular had stuck out in her mind - it was a good thing, too, since she hadn't thought to write any of them down. If anything, THAT is a sign that I'm stressed lately... I never forget something like that!

"Well... there's one thing I've been thinking about lately I thought might be good to talk about here, whether gender identity is cultural or not. You know, whether something, like... say, the color pink, whether it's only perceived as 'girly' because our society says it is, or whether differing tastes based on gender are, like... ingrained into our brains. That sort of thing. ...Does that make sense?"

That and the fact that you're already unsure of what you're saying...

Taking his time, Ilario Fiametta III kept his stride even, as he approached the classroom that Debate was normally held in. He was going to be late. Tugging the silver watch from his pocket, he flicked open the face. Twelve minutes late, how unseemly.

Father would have chastised him. If you're on time, you're late. Always arrive early. It shows initiative, his father had explained on more than one occasion. Father was always the first to instruct Ilario on how he should improve himself. And Father did know best, didn't he?

The voices emanating from the open classroom told him what he'd already assumed. Ilario was tardy for the first time in his academic career. Shameful. Fiamettas prided themselves on their punctuality and procedure. Or so Father was always quick to tell him him. Ilario ran his fingers through his hair, drawing a deep breath into the seat of his lungs. Forcing himself to be calm, Ilario readied himself outside the classroom. Deep breaths in and out, counting slowly backwards from ten. Better.

His confident gait carried him into the room as Abigail Atkins proposed her topic for discussion. Apparently, the proctor was running late as well. Frowning, Ilario felt a stab of disappointment for the man. If students must worry themselves sick over arriving on time, the least he could do was to be punctual.

However, the thought didn't make the teacher spontaneously appear, so it really was a moot point. Focusing on Abigail, Ilario nodded. Gender identity as a cultural construct seemed as good a topic as any.

"Oh, and sorry for being late, I got caught up in the library. And, that's a good topic, Abi. Let's run with it, yeah? Unless anyone else has got any ideas, I mean."

((Vincent Murdoch continued from Singalong))

Hot on the heels of Ilario, Vincent Murdoch strolled into the debating meet room, holding aloft a pizza box containing two forlorn slices of Hawaiian. A small piece of dry pineapple fell to the floor as he sauntered over to the back of the room and thrww himself into a vacant seat. Despite himself, Vincent liked these debate meetings. It was as decent a way as any to waste a period or two, plus the chance to stand up and hear his own voice for a few uninterrupted minutes was an endlessly appealing notion. He propped his feet up on the table in his customary fashion and grinned at the assembled masses.

"Oh, and sorry for being late, I got caught up in the library. And, that's a good topic, Abi. Let's run with it, yeah? Unless anyone else has got any ideas, I mean."

"Sounds beautiful", said Vincent flatly. He glanced around the room, his brow furrowing slightly. There was an absence, a notable one. Ah yes. No wonder things were going so slowly.

"Where's Captain Kwong?", he asked through a thick mouthful of melted cheese. "Debating isn't the same without the stopwatch of doom".

Hah. Stopwatch of doom. Damn, I'm funny. I really am wasted on these low types.

Vincent continued speaking and chewing, a thin stream of spit flecks and crumbs cascading on to the desk in front of him,

"So... do we just referee ourselves or what?"

Irina gave the room a timid 'Hi' and shuffled around for a seat. It would feel awkward, for her at least, to sit directly next to any one person, so she opted to take the seat closest to the door. As Irina was getting settled in, she observed the next two people to enter after her, in nearly rapid succession. The first one Irina saw was Vincent Murdoch, whom she had seen and talked to but never really gotten to know. He received a wide smile, but nothing else. Then she saw Ilario Fiametta, and grinned. Irina, an emotional girl when it came to any sort of situation, was unable to restrain herself.

"Hi Ilario!" she called, waving her arm around in what could be considered a waving gesture for a moment before retracting it. Irina's face was surprised at her own boldness for a moment before she sank back into her desk, now looking more than a little embarrassed. Of course, since she had been standing up with her chest puffed forward and her knees bent, it took her a moment to actually 'sit', so the next minute or so was spent rearranging her tangled limbs.

When Irina was finally settled, she took out one of the books she had taken from the library a few days ago and cracked it open. 'When all else fails, bury your nose in a book', was what her grandmother had told her. Hopefully it worked well with social disgraces. It was only after she had gotten two pages past her original bookmark when Irina remembered that Abigail had suggested a debate topic.


"I think that's a great topic, Abs. We could do a lot with it." Irina said, not even recalling the topic itself.