Multiverse's Next Top Model: I Wanna See You Strut

[cityship]

The TV flashes with a new message.

Tyrant Mail,

If you want to win, you can't be chicken!

Fiercely in Love,
Tyrant

After some time to change into their now-mandatory 8-inch heels, contestants are led to an stiflingly hot arena where 'devoted fans' (i.e. confused people prodded into the auditorium by casting agents) are watching. A giant catwalk, made to look like a barbecue with real flames and coals, rolls out before them. At its feet giant fried chicken-themed thrones hold the judges, all of whom are surrounded by fans buffeting their hair about and keeping them from getting a thick shellack of sweat.

"Contestants!" Jay Emmanuel strides up to them, impossibly-perfect skin still smooth and dry. He may, in fact, be part android. "Let's get you to styling! For your challenge today. You have to embody the spirit. Of fighting animal cruelty by dressing as a couture piece of poultry and strutting your stuff! Get it? Strut?"

The contestants are led away by the stylists, with the knowledge that their number will be at least one fewer by the end of the challenge.

[OOC: I will continue to backtag makeover threads for as long as you like!]

Comments

BACKSTAGE

[cityship]

Contestants are filed backstage and stuffed int these outfits before having their hair and makeup done.

[Make threads, hijack each other, mingle, confess to the camera, so on. If you would like to talk to an NPC please put it in your header.]

Re: BACKSTAGE

[ruffntumblenut.livejournal.com]

Ruffnut was utterly, utterly confused by all this.

Some various people had tried to explain to her why it was important she wear the heels.

Why it was important she let them do her hair.

Why it was important she not start beating the aid who had come to take her measurments.

But none of it helped in the long run and now she sat at a mirror staring at herself, hair out of it's usual braids, no helmet, no furs or leather.

"Yeah...Stacy picked the wrong girl for looks...maybe if I'm lucky there's some kind of combat round." She sighed and slumped in the seat, "At least they picked a topic I'm good with." She smirked and looked around carefully before reaching into one of the vanity mirrors drawers and drew out a massive bone with some meat on it.

The last time she'd tried to eat some aid had snatched it away from her warning her the grease would make her pours stand out on camera. She had just about electrocuted him for that.

But there were no aids around right now...so far as she knew.

Re: BACKSTAGE

[bequiet_hescreamed]

"Fear" was not a word in Guru Clef's vocabulary, but he was... concerned.

"Do you think they'll eat us?" he almost whispered so as to avoid drawing suspicion from the aids. "If we get eliminated, I mean?"

[theboywhodied]

There are certain advantages to no longer having hair, and Cedric's just discovered one of them. With half of the 'hair and makeup' equation removed, he can simply rehearse after his quite ridiculous headpiece is sufficiently fluffed---though he's been told not to wear it quite yet, so his bald head is shining for all to see. And mock.

He's preparing for the 'strutting', wondering whether extra points are awarded for absurdity. How closely should he imitate a chicken? A dying chicken? Is it acceptable to use magic?

"The real challenge, I suspect, is making this look good." Bald, feather skirt, heels? Ugh. He'll focus on movement and skill, then, and hope Harry and company aren't watching from above.

[greeedycat]

Normally, Caz would say something here. A scathing remark, a pointed quip, some speck of sarcasm or mockery.

In this situation, Cazali couldn't bring himself to do it. All he could do was stare, turn away, and feel the bare minimum emotion required to potentially add up to "pity".

[gunspluscells.livejournal.com]

Aya was just frowning at Cedric. He looked more like a Mardi Gras performer than a high class model. How could this make anybody look good? She was stuffed into a similarly ridiculous looking dress that was in this year's "decorative chicken" style. Or at least that's what she thought.

"I think Tyrant wants... what's the word, fierce?"

Re: BACKSTAGE

[re-engineer.livejournal.com]

The heels, Angie could deal with. The dress wasn't too bad.

She stood staring at the hat, turning it a couple different directions. "I'm not entirely sure how you even put this ON."

[theboywhodied]

"There should be a small point at the center of the forehead," Cedric suggested, looking over the headpiece once more. It was so bizarre!

He'd managed to don his, though it was slightly lopsided and in danger of falling off. It was a tossup, really, whether he looked worse with his shining bald head or with the mess of feathers hiding it.

Re: BACKSTAGE

[crazypsychic]

Sabrina did not like any of this. Changing her hair, her clothes, her boots, everything... It was so tempting to turn the aide who was assisting Tyrant and the others into a doll. She certainly did so when her emotions were locked away but... it would not be right.

"This was not at all what I was expecting for my first mission."

Re: BACKSTAGE

[pretty_lethal]

"This isn't what I was expecting for any mission ever," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes. Honestly, a real fashion show she could have at least dealt with. But this absurd thing? Just great.

Rachel hated everything about the look. It was stupid, and they'd done dreadful (no pun intended) things to her hair.

[theboywhodied]

"I suppose it could be worse," Cedric said, but it sounded less and less certain every time he said it. "The only danger's reasonably possible to avoid."

THE RUNWAY

[cityship]

The contestants walk the burning hot, smoking runway wearing their feathers and high heels. At the end of the runway, they must pose before returning to the backstage. The charcoal blocks under their shoes are the size of oranges.

[Post and the NPC judges will comment. Feel free to fall, jump off the runway, shoot fire at Tyrant, whatever! Go wild!]

Re: THE RUNWAY

[punchedoutdestiny]

This is stupid. At least, that's what Simon thinks. He probably shares this opinion with a lot of the crew. It wouldn't be so bad, though, if they didn't have to wear the weird shoes. He can barely stand in it, and he feels like he should be temping in Cytomander's army right about now...

Oh well. It's for the good of the ship, right?

Simon takes a breath and wobbles out onto the stage and catwalk, and gets a few steps before he loses his balance, falling over onto the coals with a pained scream or few.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[facepunching.livejournal.com]

A chill air began to blow; the grillwork of the runway began to hiss, then frosted over in delicate wintery ice. Like hell Soren was going to walk across a heated barbeque if he could help it. He made his way down the ramp in his feathers and heels, face flushed despite the sudden drop in temperature. At the end of the runway, he struck a pose that was half-real effort, half-sincere wish that everyone in the vicinity would drop dead.

Then he spun on his heel and marched off, letting the flames of the barbeque blaze into life once more.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[ruffntumblenut.livejournal.com]

There is a gasp from the crowd or backstage...somewhere really but an audible gasp as out comes Ruffnut next...and her outfit is on hot! So hot! Literally on fire!

Orange flames crackle cheerfully along the feathers and edges of the outfit, but she's put on her best most confident face, unable to hide the blush in her cheeks (or is that the heat coming off her outfit toasting her skin?)

She moves in sort of a jerky dance, faster then a model strut, spinning so fast at one point that when she comes to a stop at the end of the runway her hat is still spinning. The sudden stop throws her into a bow before she leaves the same way she came out in moves that are either incredibly graceful dance maneuvers, or horribly uncoordinated stumbles and flails of someone who has never worn heels.

By the time she reaches the curtain again, what was once a full dress now ends at a scantily short skirt, the flames having eaten their way up the outfit.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[gunspluscells.livejournal.com]

There was a flaming runway. Coals and everything. Smoke and heat. Aya felt like a barbecued chicken more than ever. There was no way she was walking over fire in this outfit. It was just going to burn at this rate and she had standards.

A stage hand attempted to push her onto the stage. But they found that doing so had no effect, for Aya was glowing with an orange energy. She had activated her Barrier skill and was now calling on her Parasite Energy. She really didn't want to use it if she could help it. Those jumping coals and smoke had no effect on her as she proceeded to walk down the runway now, nevermind the fact that she's still surrounded by an orange glow.

She managed to walk down the runway in those heels with no incident, then posed. She just wanted to get out of here. That glowing orange energy burst and flew everywhere, mostly around the judges. It was more pyrotechnics than anything else, but damn did she wish she could do damage with her Parasite Energy again. The barrier reconstituted itself around her and Aya walked back.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[theboywhodied]

So the other contestants are using magic! That makes things easier, then. Cedric grins, taking the time to quietly cast a Flame-Freezing charm over himself. He can still fall if he's not careful, of course, but he won't get burned. After nearly losing half of his face to a dragon's flame in the Triwizard Tournament, he's not eager to relive that type of injury.

Into the fire and flames he goes. He tries to hold his head high, stand tall and proud, but it's ridiculously difficult in heels. He's rehearsed, and he does manage to make it to the end of the runway, but there he wobbles and gets stuck. One long heel has wedged itself between the blocks of charcoal. A flash of anger---and inspiration---strikes.

With what sounds like an agonized yell, he crouches, writhes in 'pain', unlatches the heels, and flings off both shoes (it's silly to only wear one). Might want to avoid the hot shoes, audience. He makes what would've been a strong pose in any other situation, but here comes off as the death throes of a barbecued chicken.

Such is the life.

[pretty_lethal]

On the bright side, Rachel's graceful enough that walking in heels isn't too big an issue, as ridiculous as they are.

The anger at the outfit, though, shows on her face, clearly. As well as what they did to her hair. And also the general mission. But she had to do what she had to do.

But they want her to be the 'bitch'? Fine, she can do that.

She all but stomps down the runway, practically leaking discontent.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[greeedycat]

Given his aloof attitude to the rest of the competition thus far, it was pretty surprising Caz even bothered to peer out of the curtain. His Greeed form was still pink- something he hadn't had the time to attend to -so he was just going to go it in human form. Sadly, his "outfit" had been tailored to fit the bigger form. So, he'd just made an illusion of the outfit. At the very least, it couldn't set on fire that way.

With little to no concern for the heat and temperature, he did the stupid model walk, and stopped at the end of the run to give the judges his middle finger (flipping them the bird, his last attempt at sarcasm). After completing his sneer, he strutted back a lot more casually. Frankly, he was starting to wonder if it'd be easier to turn the judges in to monsters and have the rest of the crew beat them up in "self defense".

Re: THE RUNWAY

[re-engineer.livejournal.com]

Angie didn't want to admit it, but the words of the judges had stung at the 'Ty over'. Sure, she was the oldest looking member of the away mission, though she doubted she was the oldest member. Not when she'd once known a woman who looked in her late twenties and had been nearly a hundred years old. But dismissing her just because she was older?

Yeah, Angie wasn't going to stand for that.

The outfit was ridiculous, but Angie took to the runway with her head held high and her nanotech cooling her so that she wouldn't sweat. Moreover, she did it with a swagger and a grin that were very much sexual. Stopping at the end of the runway, she smiled coolly, looking over each judge before turning and heading back.

The judges might well hate it and Angie really wished she could say that she didn't care. Fact of the matter was, she wanted to win. Right now, that meant keeping her cool. Just for now.

I am sad I had to make the first 'cock of the walk' joke guyz.

[masterofnun.livejournal.com]

Punchy, with his hair freshly-dyed black and a gap placed in his teeth for 'cosmetic reasons', is feeling like the cock of the walk (pun totally intended). Even if those feathers are giving him the mother of all rashes.

In an odd gesture of common sense, he waits until the last minute to put his shoes on - no sense risking a broken ankle before the challenge even starts. Which is, unfortunately, just enough time for Soren to get at them...

As Jay Emmanuel calls his name, Punchy strides out onto the runway, hands on his hips, doing a perfect impression of the Blue Steel (except for the unfortunate fact that he can't totally suppress his childish grin at having strangers cheer him on to do something).

And just like that, his leg goes out from under him. One of his heels has been ever so slightly altered to be shorter than the other. On flat ground it was just awkward, but on the runway it's impossible. Punchy pitches forward and thankfully covers his face with his hands before landing in the coals.

Unfortunately, covering his face with his hands doesn't prevent the boom mic from picking up the cardinal sin of the FCC: rampant swearing.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[redheadcarrier.livejournal.com]

Asuka was still sulking over what they had done to her hair. Cornrows. Her flaming red hair was in cornrows. But she didn't really have time to sulk (even if she totally was). She wanted to win. So, teeth gritted, she prepared for her walk.

"This dress is ridiculous," she muttered to herself. At least she could manage her balance. Sort of. At least until she hit the coals. She wabbled down the runway, still putting her best stride on, even as she muttered threats to the judges (and Tyrant) under her breath. She reached the end, struck her best pose and then turned around.

Unfortunately, on the way back, she went down and the whole outfit was smoldering by the time she clambered back to her feet, shrieking at the judges as she hobbled her way backstage, "What kind of contest is this? And who taught you people how to design an outfit?! It's all horrible! It's just trash! Trash!"

Re: THE RUNWAY

[grimbiker]

Sirius's outfit was in tatters after his fight with Rachel. Unfortunately, trying to mend it with magic had been less than successful. Sirius had a knack for breaking things, not fixing them.

But what he lacked in cosmetic fashion he made up for in a walk that most runway models would die for. He never did have to practice his arrogance nor his elegance. His muscles had withered in Azkaban but they hadn't disappeared, in fact they were coming back the more time he spent on the meatship. He was toned enough to be considered muscular but still thin enough to pass for a model.

And he was expecting Rachel to come tearing after him the moment he stepped on the runway.

Re: THE RUNWAY

[sonofether.livejournal.com]

So this is where the dexterity came in handy. It was worse than one of Morgan's obstacle courses! The weave made his head itch, and Stephen was pretty sure the feathers clashed with his newly dyed skin, but...

Sometimes modeling was just dealing with the ridiculous. At least that had been Anuja and Primaya's opinion when his sisters had gone over their fashion magazines within earshot.

They'd told him flat out that he couldn't wear his goggles on the catwalk, but he planned to attempt to manipulate the flames anyway, so every few steps the fires would gout about him. Thankfully, that seemed like it was working. And along with that, Stephen just tweaked the spell so that he didn't feel the heat.

His strut onto the catwalk was a slow one. He had a determined look on his face, chin lifted, hips swaying with overtones of Ru Paul--or maybe a stripper. Stephen was Un Grand Poulet, and damned if he wasn't going to let them all know it!

Re: THE RUNWAY

[bequiet_hescreamed]

Clef didn't give himself time to think about what he was doing before dashing out onto the catwalk as fast as his little legs could carry him in eight-inch heels. Sparks and entire charcoal bricks flew up in his wake, catching fire to the back of his dress. By the time he skidded to a stop, shielding his face from the sparks he was kicking up in front of him, the entire back and most of the front of the dress was just gone and he had minor burns everywhere but his face. The damage was nothing he couldn't heal himself with magic, and the pain only served to inspire his fierceness.

As the charred remains of his dress fell away, he uncovered his face to reveal a fierce glare at the judges. The kind of glare that says, I am contemplating injuring many innocent people in order to throw hot bricks of coal at you.