Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompt 12 & 13

(Read the previous prompt here.)

Prompt 12 - The Campaign:

I’ll turn over the card to the right.

Card Draw: 9 of Clubs (black)  I am going to use my last Insight to keep from losing a potential.

Prompt: You and your Rival have to work together on something, but it goes poorly. You get in each other’s way, perhaps you even deliberately sabotage one another. How does it go wrong?

*  *  *

The Game Board held an impromptu meeting the last Saturday of October. After most of the players had arrived for the day, Elaine asked everyone to stop playing and join her and Art near the rear corner of the store.  I saw an empty seat next to Gwen and took the opportunity to sit next to her. She smiled, fine with my choice. 

“We have had many good and thoughtful recommendations for our featured game at this year’s Holiday Bowl,” Elaine announced. “While the Board and I have been able to whittle the options down, we still have four great options.  This year, we have decided to leave the choice up to the entire group.”

Being on the board myself, none of this was new information.  I guess technically, I could have been standing with Elaine and Art, but I had nothing in particular to add to the announcement, and I wasn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to sit next to Gwen.

Elaine went on to list the four games that were up for consideration.  It was no real surprise that two of the options were Andromeda Factions and Wyvern’s Retreat.  The third game being considered was Passage to Fly, an aviation themed game where each player runs an airline, and establish routes around the globe.  The goal is to earn the most points based on how many airports to which you travel and the types of flights you offer.  Passage was an old standard, but well-loved and a great tournament choice.  The final game was Mediterrania, a resource-management, worker-placement game set in a mildly futuristic version of the Mediterranean Sea area. Of course, the gameplay was very common, nearly every area of the globe has been used as a setting for a worker placement game. This particular title, however, was released only this past year and still on everyone’s hot list, which is why it made the cut.

“We have decided to hold a vote,” Elaine said after listing the four games.  “Starting next week, each contributor is encouraged to campaign for their game.  Tell people about your game, play it with them, maybe even set up a mini tournament.  Whatever you want, in order to convince others that your game should be featured in the Bowl. The campaign will continue for three weeks.  Then, the Saturday before Thanksgiving, we will hold a secret ballot where everyone will have an opportunity to vote.  The game with the most votes will be this year’s Holiday Bowl game.”

“And remember,” Art cut in. “This is supposed to be a friendly competition, and we are one big, gamer family.  These are all good games, so while informed critiques and comparisons are encouraged, I don’t want to hear anyone belittling someone for choosing a particular game, or worse, speak bad about that person. Is that clear?”

That seemed a bit strong, considering our group, but I was pretty sure Art was looking at me, as if I was the focus of this warning. C’mon, dude.  That hurts.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Gwen asked when the meeting was done.

“The vote?  Yes. In fact, I may have suggested it.”

Gwen looked at me suspiciously.  “Really?  That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Art and Elaine were leaning toward Andromeda Factions, but I thought it might look bad if they picked a game suggested by one of the Board members. So, I suggested if they held a vote, everyone would think it was a fair decision.”  Okay, maybe my game wasn’t really being considered any more than the others, but I thought it would sound better than the truth: a vote was probably the only way my game would be chosen.

Gwen held out her hand. “Then may the best person win.”

I looked at it for a moment.  It was only a handshake, but it was still holding her hand.  I took the offered hand and did my best to keep my hand from trembling.

“Agreed!”

*     *     *

The next Saturday morning, I arrived at the “Dice & Deck” ready to hit the campaign trail. My plan was to hand out a bunch of booster card packs to promote the game. My reality, however, was that I simply didn’t have the money for that many cards. Besides, Art would probably consider it a bribe and disqualify me.  Instead, I printed out some flyers to hand out that listed the highlights of the game and give me an opportunity to answer any questions.

Almost immediately, I saw that Gwen was taking this seriously.  All over the gaming section of the store were hung letter-sized posters printed on glossy paper.  In the middle was a black and white intricate drawing of a dragon or wyvern, with the words “VOTE FOR WYVERN’S RETREAT” surrounding it in thick, black, handwritten letters.  I had seen some of Gwen artwork in the past on notebooks she would bring with her or draw on the fly using scraps of paper.  She was good, but hers was more of a cartoonish style.  This wyvern drawing was more realistic with a lot of fine detail.  Then I noticed the signature just below the picture: Fisher.  Ah!  This was her brother’s work. <Using the oracle at rpssolo.com - Is Gwen a good artist? (50/50): Yes, but . . . she had her brother draw the wyvern for the poster.>

Gwen’s posters may have been more eye-catching than my flyers, but I still felt confident as I started handing them out and talking to people. However, as the morning went on, I began to understand why Gwen thought the card game’s interest was too niche. I first talked to group members who liked to play trading card games and they were very supportive. But as I reached out to others, they were less enthusiastic.  Either they didn’t play enough trading card games to be competitive or, if they did enjoy TCGs, it wouldn’t be their first choice for the tournament, especially if they weren’t familiar with Andromeda Factions and it’s nuances to begin with. Even Wayne wouldn’t commit. He was much more interested in the new game Mediterrania.

Desperate for more support, I searched for new blood.  That was how I ended up talking to two complete strangers in the comic book aisles.  Despite them having never once come to play games, (in fact, I never found out if they had any interest in board games at all) I told them all about the group and how much fun we have every Saturday.  I ended by handing them a flyer and inviting them to join the tournament.  They politely thanked me and moved down the aisle, grateful, I suspect, to have escaped my uncomfortable sales pitch.

I started to walk back to the rest of the group when I heard familiar voices from just around the corner of the comic book rack, out of eyesight.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” I heard Gwen ask.

“Absolutely,” Morgan affirmed. “You know you can count on me.  All you had to do was ask.”

“I thought so, but I didn’t want to assume.”

“Don’t be silly.  It’s fine,” Morgan assured her friend.

“Okay, and I’ll be sure you are paid. I just might not have the money for a couple of weeks.”

“You know, you don’t really have to pay me.”

“Thanks, but a promise is a promise.”

“And I appreciated it, but I’d do anything for you, Gwen.  Besides, I’m sure it will be fun.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was Gwen buying votes, the exact thing I was afraid Art would think about me? I always thought Gwen was fair.  I couldn’t believe she would do this to me, and just when we were becoming friends.  Surprisingly, I was less mad and more hurt.  Maybe she wasn’t the person I thought . . . or hoped she was.

Still in my thoughts, I stepped out of the comic aisle and nearly collided with Morgan.  She took a step back and held up her hand, stopping me before I could say a word.

“Don’t even think about it, Lance. I’m already voting for Gwen.”

She took off before I could respond, leaving me standing with my last few flyers. In a dejected whisper, I responded anyway.

“I know.”

*     *     *

Prompt 13 - The Reveal:

I’m choosing the card above my location.

Card Draw: 10 of Clubs (black) Lose 1 potential.

Prompt: You’ve drastically misunderstood a neutral or perhaps even friendly action your Rival took, and will not realize it for some time. How? What made you misjudge them? Did they go about any of it the wrong way?

This is an interesting prompt for a journaling game, as it requires the author to have knowledge of a situation that they simply don’t have, especially since the prompt states you won’t realize it for some time.  This can be handled a number of ways (flashback to an earlier misunderstanding, a delayed journal post, etc.), but I’m just going to make it a continuation of the previous scene. I don’t want to give away any spoilers, but I’ve always expected this event to follow the classic Hallmark Movie 1 hour and 45 minute misunderstanding trope.

*     *     *

I plopped myself down in an empty seat at a table where Wayne, Erik, and a much younger boy, Aaron sat playing some train-themed game.

“Man, you look like you just lost your best friend,” Wayne remarked.

Wayne

“Is the game campaign going that poorly?” Erik asked.

“No,” I answered. “I mean, yeah. What do you expect when even your friends don’t want to vote for you?.” I cast an accusatory glance at Wayne, who self-consciously dropped his eyes. “But that’s not it.  I just heard Gwen talking to Morgan.”

“Morgan’s going to vote for Wyvern’s Retreat,” Wayne stated matter-of-factly.  “So, what?  We all knew that.”

“It’s not that she’s voting for Gwen,” I said.  “It’s why she’s voting for Gwen.  Gwen agreed to pay Morgan in exchange for her vote.”

“See!” Erik exclaimed.  “I told you she’d screw you over somehow! But I never expected bribery.”

“Are you sure?” Wayne asked.  “That doesn’t sound like Gwen.”

“Maybe,” Erik agreed, but quickly resumed the hunt for blood. “But you heard her!  Didn’t you, Lance?”

“Yes.  She told Morgan she wouldn’t have the money till later, but not to worry.  She would get paid.”

“I don’t know.  I’m still not convinced,” Wayne said. “Maybe I can ask Morgan.  She and I are close.”

“Dreams don’t count,” Erik said, suggesting the relationship was just wishful thinking on Wayne’s part.

“Don’t,” I told Wayne. “I don’t want them to think I was spying on them.”

“You’re at least going to tell Elaine and Art, aren’t you.” Erik asked.

“I don’t think so.  I don’t want Gwen to get in trouble.  It’s just a game.”

Suddenly, Wayne’s eyes widened in understanding. 

Erik, on the other hand, just seemed puzzled. “What are you talking about?  Cheating aside, I can’t believe you, of all the people here, will just let her win.  You can’t stand . . . Ouch!  What the heck, Wayne!”

I felt a brush against my leg as Wayne kicked Erik under the table.

“Erik, don’t be a lunkhead!” Wayne barked.  “Can’t you see it’s not about the game? It’s about Gwen.”

“What do you mean Gw . . .  Oh!”  Erik stared at me, astonished. 

Wayne had a rare look of sympathy. 

Aaron . . . well, I think we all forgot about Aaron.

So the cat was out of the bag.  Everyone knew.  Well, at least everyone that mattered.

“I couldn't care less what game we play at the Bowl,” I said. “In fact, I’ve had fun playing Wyvern with Gwen these past couple of weeks. We’ve actually been getting along. In fact, I thought we might be friends. But now this.  It hurts to think she could be so underhanded.”

“I’m still not sure if she was, Lance,” Wayne said.  “I mean, she never offered Erik or me money for our votes.” He looked to Erik for confirmation.

“Nope, not me,” he agreed.

“You’re going to have to talk to her,” Wayne told me.

“I can’t do that.  She might not want to talk to me anymore if I accuse her of cheating.”

“But I thought you said she was cheating?” Erik pointed out.

“I did. But maybe I’m wrong. But if she did, then . . . uh . . .  I don’t know.  I don’t know.” I gave up in frustration.

Wayne sat back in his chair.  “Pal, I’m afraid this is going to be a tough one. You either chance it by asking her or let the uncertainty gnaw at you.  You were better off when you hated each other.  And you!”  Wayne directed this to Aaron, who sat up at attention.  “Not a word about this to anyone.  If I even hear you mention Lance’s or Gwen’s name to another person, I’m going to tell everyone you pocket your aces!”

Aaron stared back, uncomprehending.

“I’m going to tell everyone you are a cheater!” Wayne explained in no uncertain terms.

Aaron’s eyes grew wide in fear.  No gamer wanted anyone to think he was a cheater. 

“N-No, Sir!” the kid stammered.  “Not a word.”  He even pulled his thumb and forefinger across his mouth in the old “zip your lip” pantomime.

Then, as though our conversation never took place, Wayne got back to business.

“Now, we have a game to finish.  You can watch if you want, Lance, but please, no advice.  Who’s turn is it?”

As Wayne looked to others for an answer, I stood up, left the rest of my flyers on the table, and headed for the door.

(Read the next promt here.)

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