talonkarrde: (Default)
This is an arena, my friend, a colosseum that is the pride of this country, where spectators come to spend their time, a currency above any other. It is a competition, my fellow gladiator, where we must demonstrate our skills, our cunning, our masteries. And it is a battle, my enemy, against me and every person that is in here with you, for only one will emerge victorious. 

There are those that will fall because they lack the strength to continue on after five, ten, twenty rounds, and we will miss them. There are those that fall because they do not please the crowd, for the crowd is a fickle and strange creature that can not be predicted, and we will mourn them. And finally, there are those who will fall because they are defeated in direct combat, one on one, and we will respect them.

And then we will move on, those who are still standing, for there are still more battles to fight. It does not end until there is only one left, and then, after that, there is always the next season, though the one that wins will join the crowd, and turn it as he or she wills, and bestow his or her favor upon the competitors.

Let me tell you a bit about them.

He — over there — he's someone to watch out for, someone who comes up with a new and inventive response every time a challenge is thrown out. He'll come from out of nowhere and take the glory and adulation of the masses, and all the rest of us will be left behind, watching as the crowd throws roses and coins at his feet.

And her, the one with the yellow eyes — wait until she enters the arena, wait until she starts talking, and watch the crowd as they gasp, and cry, and fall to their knees, begging for more. She sinks her barb into you, and only when you are hers will she let go — but really, does she ever let you go? 

At least they are honorable, those two, who show you all their cards and win through skill instead of deception. In this, as in any competition that matters, there are others that are not so, who will deal themselves seconds and misdirect and deceive. But the rules are the rules, and playing 'underhanded' is not the same as doing something illegal. Consider for a moment that perhaps the two I mentioned before are only honorable because their skill is such that they need not resort to other tactics. If they did not win the crowds, if they did not have so many supporters from their hometowns, would they still walk the same path? It is a question to be considered.

But regardless of the path that we choose, we share the same goal, and we will face the same challenges, and we will fall, one after another, until only one remains.

May the best person win — and perhaps, for once, it would be nice if he were a man.
talonkarrde: (Default)
Some things you do for yourself, other things you do for other people. 

And then there are the things that you do for...well, you're not honestly sure, but it works out in the end.

Idol, though, isn't really any of those things. Or maybe it's all of those things. Sometimes, you wonder why you're in it, other times, you write pieces that you end up showing everyone as star examples of who you are and what you can do.

And rarely, once in a blue moon, you write a piece that you show no one at all, but it's something you desperately needed to write, something you're better for having written.

Idol is about your writing, yes, but it's also about the writing of the others in the competition, about genres you weren't sure existed before this prompt, and even, yes, sometimes about the drama and bickering and 200+ comments in the green room that you may never actually finish reading.

So here I am.

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talonkarrde

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