Glutton for Punishment

The little bird was a singer, trained by the best and performing for the masses. Renowned for its song, the bird was blue of feather and beak, truly unique with a million different songs to match. Tonight it sang of challenges and trials, of games and of promises, of failure and of triumph. The little bird sang of a quest, challenging those who thought themselves worthy and brave (or perhaps foolhardy) enough to compete.

Not many answered the birds call. To test those that did, there was a challenge within the song. Those who would take part were to find themselves something that represented the bird and its song, presenting them to a man known only as "The Ringmaster". Only seven found what the bird had meant and these seven received instructions, leading them to a theme park. The rides ran, full of people screaming in both fear and excitement. The refreshment stores were commanding booming business and the gift shops doing almost as well, while the place was bright and lively, each corner revealing some new wonder. But the competitors moved past all this, following the directions in the song. They reached a place full of tents, some black, some purple and further back some red. They moved on and on through these tents, easily more than fifty, until they reached a place of rubble and dust, the once bright and vibrant red faded to a dusty pink. They moved through the gloom, wondering if perhaps they had misunderstood, had maybe come to the wrong place.

But they found him eventually. Where else would one find The Ringmaster but in a circus tent? The thing was broken, full of holes and covered in spider's webs, but it had unmistakably been the big top, centre of the show.

"Seven deviants, here for the challenge?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes downcast. One by one the seven acknowledged his question. Five were American, one German and the last British. The Europeans found themselves wide awake, for to them this was early morning. The others were, although not tired, perhaps not so ready for it was early afternoon to them. The Ringmaster seemed to think a moment before he spoke again. "Locate a witch, one that prefers pink, and directs volunteers. Give to her the drawing of a large, purple eye. Provide for me proof that you have done this by this time tomorrow."
And so the seven left the top, exploring the theme park for the witch of whom The Ringmaster spoke. They did not travel together, but individually, moving past rides and stalls until, finally, they would come across the witches stall.
The British competitor, upon her arrival, saw that a number of purple eyes already decorated the stall, staring down at her from above. Some were beady and some were sharp and yet all of them were watching. There were, however, fewer eyes than there were fellow deviants, so she drew her own in purple ink and pinned it to the stall. As proof she photographed the eye in its new position and turned to head back to the top and The Ringmaster. He took the photo without a word, pocketing it and giving no indication of how many, if any, he had already received.

When the next challenge was announced, it seemed to be an easier one. Merely a hunt – strange as the items they were searching for seemed to be. The Ringmaster asked them for three things – a flashlight, a duck and an apple – to be presented to him with a story connecting the three.

One deviant was kept behind and told by The Ringmaster that, as last to complete the previous challenge, she would be unable to compete any further. While the first elimination had taken place, there had also been a champion of sorts. One of the six remaining had been presented with a token from The Ringmaster for being the first to complete the challenge – a shirt he could find from a stall at the park. He thanked The Ringmaster and left to continue on the challenge with the rest
The time for the end of the challenge came and went, and the competitors grew impatient. Where, they thought, was the next challenge? What was it they were expected to do? Should they merely sit and wait until The Ringmaster next spoke, or should they leave and come back the following day? They drifted in and out of the top, before finally leaving to sleep. When finally the news did come, perhaps they felt a little cheated.

The round itself seemed a little odd – there was no elimination, no winner. Instead the next round was given and all six were to compete. "Locate a chix who embraces the blue star. Present to her the most glorious blue star you can create!" They left in a hurry, perhaps having seen the blue star the previous day as they searched for the items The Ringmaster had wanted.

Again the British deviant arrived to see stars already decorating the stall, but as before there were fewer stars than there were competitors. She created her own and hung it from the edge of the stall, snapping a picture and hurrying back to the top.
Luck was, as it happened, with the European competitors this time. The update came as they rose from sleep, while the Americans continued to snore – one of them eliminated as he slept. This was a task that required no running about, unless one needed to look for the answers, but this was not always necessary. The Ringmaster posed four questions and received for answers from the five who remained in the tournament. The British deviant was quick with her searching and returned with the answers first, before the American's had even roused from sleep. The Ringmaster took them and gave no indication whether she was right or wrong. Now that they were getting used to the way this worked, those who had completed the challenge wandered further from the park, only popping back occasionally to see if there was a new challenge.

The time past the deadline seemed to drag past, until finally The Ringmaster spoke again. Not all the deviants were there to hear his words – the British deviant was away eating dinner -  but there were a few there to hear the next elimination, leaving the two Europeans and two of the original five Americans in the running. The British deviant received a minor prize – three months free entry to the exclusive areas of the park. When she arrived she thanked The Ringmaster and waited for the next challenge.
The Ringmaster spoke, repeating what he had already said to some of the others. "Find the third tent I built in this park. Use what you find there to write me a mystery story. Bring me this story before this time tomorrow."
The tent was easy enough to locate, and inside was a great crack across the floor – perhaps the reason this tent was abandoned. Mystery stories, whilst perhaps not any of their fortes, were not the most difficult thing to write and they were all in by the deadline the following day.

The following task was missing. Stolen, or so The Ringmaster claimed. The final three, while suspicious, played along with his game, following the hints he laid out before them. "This person volunteers at a roller coaster. She likes pandas – perhaps if you praise them enough she will return the task to you – perhaps a poem."
The final three deviants headed away to find this mysterious volunteer, two American's and the British deviant. As before they searched separately, and when they found this mysterious person manning a rollercoaster at the far end of the park she was easy to tell from the rest (largely due to the panda hat she wore).

The British deviant was no master at flattery, never mind poetry, so she said the very first words that popped into her head. These were, as it happened, a limerick.

"There once was a panda named Harry,
Who had a friend named Larry.
Handsome pandas were these,
Truly the bees knees,
Far more than your common canary."

Although the final rhyme irked her, it seemed enough to please the mysterious volunteer. "This task is not like others as time will not decide your fate. You have until July the 21st to create a piece that is in your preferred medium which sums up this game as you experienced it." The deviant nodded and turned away.

What she needed now was a pen and a sheet of paper.