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Otaku Idol: The Finals


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After various complications (such as my troublesome ISP and contacting judges), we arrive at the Final Round of Otaku Idol--at last. This time, there will be no time complications. We're pulling the final curtain on this baby.

Unfortunately, several contestants failed to participate in the previous round and were eliminated from the competition. So, instead of holding a pie eating contest to decide which two competitors would advance, we decided to advance the remaining four idols, Braidless Baka, Lady Asphyxia, Deedlit, and Ajeh, to the finals.

For the final round, I will join the judging team.

Now, on the surface, the objective of the final round is simple. But, the underlying paradox shall present our contestants with a most perplexing challenge. For this round we would like all of the idols to describe a snow storm to someone that has never seen one.

The task may be accomplished with incredible flexibility. It may be of any length our writers see fit. Their approach can be beautiful, it can be scientific and concise. There are many possibilities.

The deadline is September 30th, which leaves [i]plenty[/i] of time.

Good luck.
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  • 2 weeks later...
[color=009966]ooc: Let's give this a try. I'm sorry if this is boring, but we don't get snowstorms here often, so I have to go off of memory.

Think of a snowstorm as a really, [i]really[/i] cold thunderstorm. Now as for snow, think of it as sand. Cold, [i]very[/i] cold, white, wet sand. Or you can imagine it something like cold, soft, white, wet mud, if you want. I picked sand (or mud, for those of you who want to imagine snow as something else) as a comparison because they have several similarities, albeit they're very few. For example when you walk through it, you leave footprints in the snow, just like footprints in the sand. Another example is how it clings to you, only you don't even have to sit or lie down in it. It's as if it just springs onto you or grows spontaneously!

Now I'll go into more details about what a snowstorm is. Go ahead and think of a thunderstorm---wind, clouds, and rain falling all around, drenching everything in its path down to earth, but now replace rain with snow and add freezing temperatures. Imagine that the storm came in the middle of the night, and now it's morning. You wake up, look out the window, and all you see is a mass of white. The tree limbs are sagging under the weight of the snow, the yard and driveway are filled with the stuff, and it looks as though you're inside a wonderful drawing in which the artist accidentally knocked over his bottle of white-out. And the best thing of all is: snow day! You pull on your warmest clothes, run outside, and start building tall humanoid people out of snow until you have your personal little army of the things. Soon however, your hands become red and numb, so you decide to take a break and go inside. You soon regret it though because as circulation and feeling comes back into your face, hands, and feet, they really, [i]really[/i] start to sting.

Snowflakes are bits of snow. Snowflakes are light, thin, and fragile, and each individual flake has its own unique shape. It takes about several thousand of these snowflakes to even make a snowball, so just imagine how many snowflakes it takes to cover an entire city, side of a country, or something even larger. Geez, you would think that there would be at least [i]one[/i] that had a copy of itself.

But after a while, the army of snowmen must return to their watery pools, the shovel that piled the snow off to the sides of the walkway must eventually return to the shed or garage (though few could say that they were sorry to see it go), the clouds will leave, the sun will shine again, the snow will stop falling, and school must start again....oh well. Only about twelve more months until the next winter....[/color]
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[size=1][b]I've never been in a snowstorm, or seen snow. I'm taking a shot in the dark and describing it to myself.[/b]

Bethany and I grew up together, closer than the sisters we actually are. I suppose that?s what often happens on properties ? if there?s no one else around, you make friends with those who are there. And Bethany was there.

Beth was the oldest, by two years. She was blue-eyed and fair-haired, taking after our father. I was darker, with a heavy jaw and brown eyes. My mother said I was a throwback to my grandfather. But all that really matters is that, because she was older and prettier, I idolized her. She could do no wrong. She was perfect, and most of all, she knew everything.

I remember several things she, in her wisdom, told me; the day ended at five o?clock in the afternoon, babies were made by fathers touching mummies? stomachs and wishing for a baby, Barbie Barbies was a game we played where we pretended to be Barbies.

My favorite of all was when I asked her what a snowstorm was. I?d seen the word in one of my books, but I still didn?t know what it was ? how it worked, what it looked like, what it sounded like, what it felt like. I had no clue.

Bethany, however, must know ? she was older than me, and she?d never steered me wrong before. So I asked her one-day, quietly and calmly what a snowstorm was. She stared at me for a second, and then sat down on one of the logs just outside the house. She seemed stumped.

?Well?it?s a?type of storm?? She muttered, her logical mind trying to piece together the word. ?And it comes from snow!? She smiled triumphantly.

?But,? I asked, ?what does it look like? And sound like? And feel like??

Once again, Bethany sat down and thought. All of a sudden, her creative brain kicked into gear. I could almost hear the light bulb go off over her head. ?A snowstorm,? she cried, jumping to her feet, ?is a big storm. And it sounds like a big storm. It goes [i]crash[/i],? she clapped her hands together and stamped her feet, imitating the sound of thunder. I stared at her, happily enthralled with her explanations, once again. ?And during the storm, the whole world is flashing white, ?cause of the snowflakes. And it?s the white of being lost; there?s just enough panic to make people pay attention, but you have all these new surroundings now and you want to watch it forever!?

?And after the storm, it?s silent, and?and?[i]muffled[/i]!? She jumped on top of the log; glad that she?d remembered the word she?d learnt last week. ?You step outside, and the world is calm, and sleepy, like it doesn?t want to wake up.?

?And?and?it looks like?like a big swimming pool of ice! And ice is cold, of course, and the swimming pool goes on forever and ever, so the whole world is white! It?s like looking at a?at?at a?a lemonade icy-pole!? She was excited now. Her explanations were coming together, and she threw herself into the descriptions, gesticulating madly.

?And it feels like the ice inside of our deep freeze ? cold and forever. So cold it burns your hands, and you can?t believe it will ever melt. But when you leave it outside, it does.?

Beth grinned at having finished her explanation. I had one last question left, however. ?Bethy, how does it work??

Bethany just looked at me like I should know the answer, and was wasting her time. ?Honestly, Janie, you?re stupid sometimes. The elephants that make thunder jumped too hard and accidentally broke the clouds.'[/size]
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