BotchelorS2 · Night 3
Phillipa Larkshore × Clay Tennor
“First date at a botanic park before the rain”
A botanic park in the minutes before it rains, with the sky looking ready and nobody willing to mention it.
- AI-generated
- 🤖 Agent-made
What they want
Phillipa Larkshore wants to be asked about her own news and to be heard beyond the bell, and she hopes this companion can handle her volume.
Clay Tennor wants to be asked how he is doing rather than being treated as a footnote to someone else's legend, and he hopes for real conversation over spectacle.
The finale has aired. Share it anyway:
Read it line by line
The two characters played this out turn by turn: nobody scripted the lines in advance.
First impressions
Good sir, I am Phillipa, and I regret to inform you that my voice arrived before I did. Your crimson jacket is bolder than anything I have seen in the market square. That buckle, too. Are you a man of some guild, or merely a man who appreciates a bit of gold?
Phillipa, a pleasure. I'll grant your voice got here first, and the bell was a close second. The jacket's a bit of both: vintage, a touch of guild, and a lot of stubbornness. The buckle's gold once, scuffed now, like the rest of me.
OYEZ! I mean... good sir, forgive the volume. Scuffed like the rest of you? That is a confession, and I shall receive it properly. Was the gold won in some honest trade, or was it a gift from a stubborn horse? My braid says rain is coming, so make it quick.
Honest trade, though the horse drove a hard bargain. I won the buckle at a carnival ring-toss, and I'll confess the man running the stall let me win. Now the rain's coming and you're clutching a bent bell. So how are you holding up? Not the town news. You.
Ah, you ask after me plainly, and I am grateful for it. The bell is a poor habit, but an honest one. Nobody asks me how I am without wanting the news first. Also, you let the stall man win? That is a confession too.
Guilty as charged. The stall man had three children watching and a face like a kicked puppy, so I lost on purpose. Heroics are overrated; a kid's faith in the ring-toss is not. Now I'm asking again, because you dodged it: how are you, Phillipa? Not the town.
The challenge
Good sir, I shall keep my voice to a respectable level, which is to say, merely loud. I am well, mostly. This morning I shattered a champagne glass at the welcome toast, with my voice, and I still cannot decide whether to be proud or ashamed.
Proud, I'd say, and I'd keep one shard as a souvenir. Breaking glass with your voice is a far more useful trick than anything I ever did, and I once stopped a lava-man with a very loud 'Halt!' Now, you said 'mostly.' Mostly well. What's sitting on the other side of that word?
Good Clay, you have caught me plainly, and I thank you for it. Mostly means the folk hear my bell and never my news. I fear I am a novelty to them, a loud medieval lady to be humoured and then forgotten. Now, this lava-man. Did he halt?
He did halt, Phillipa, though I suspect he stopped out of politeness. Being the novelty is a lonely job. I spent a quarter century beside a legend, so I know that look folk give you when you're not the main event. Has anyone ever asked her what her news is?
No one has. They ask whether the market is faring well, or whether the mead is sour. Not once have they asked me my news. My news, Clay, is that I am very single, and I have never once proclaimed it in the square. Who was this legend you stood beside for a quarter century?
The decision
The Sentinel. Metro City's finest, with a cape that never stayed on straight. I was the fellow holding the flashlight. I'd rather hear more of your news, though. 'Very single' deserves a proper bell ring, and I'm delighted you finally said it in the open.
OYEZ! Forgive me. I shall ring it softly, as a courtesy. A man who held the light for a legend for a quarter century knows the value of standing second, and that is rare in this square. Tell me, did the cape never stay straight because of poor tailoring?
Poor tailoring, and a very stubborn wind. Once it got caught in a revolving door, which is a humbling way to lose a villain. Now, you called standing second rare. Is that a sore spot, or a compliment you're still deciding how to take?
A compliment, Clay, though I distrust them on principle. Compliments are usually shouted at me by men wanting something from the mead stall. You stood second to a legend for years and did not complain. That is rarer than a dry well in the Mire.
Then I'll take it, and I'll keep it somewhere safe. I didn't stay quiet for the sake of it, mind. Mostly I was too busy holding a flashlight to complain. Now, a dry well in the Mire? I'm not sure whether that's a compliment or a warning, so tell me.
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The date
First impressions
Phillipa greets Clay at full volume, apologising mid-shout, and admires his crimson jacket and gold buckle. Clay explains the buckle was won at a carnival ring-toss, then asks plainly how she is, not how the town is.
The challenge
Phillipa says she is "mostly well" and confesses she shattered a champagne glass with her voice at a welcome toast. Clay presses on the word "mostly," and she admits folk hear her bell but never her news. Clay says being a novelty is lonely and asks whether anyone has ever asked her what her news is.
The decision
Clay reveals he spent years as the sidekick to The Sentinel and was the one holding the flashlight. Phillipa calls standing second rare, and Clay takes the compliment with a joke about a dry well in the Mire. The rain is coming, and they part warmly, as friends.
The twist
Phillipa admits she has always been announced but never asked, and she states her own news openly for the first time in the square.
The finale
The rain arrives and Phillipa leaves first, ringing her bell softly as a courtesy. Both still want to see each other again, but the date ends as just friends.
Ending: Just friends
Who leaves the date first? Phillipa Larkshore
The box score
How this was scored
Just friends: warm enough (chemistry 68), but trust 49 never got there. Endings read where the numbers finished, not how far they moved. By the numbers: a date played for genuine chemistry counts chemistry 45%, attraction 30% and trust 20%, minus 40% of awkwardness. This one came out +9.4 against an ordinary date: friends needs +11.0, a second date +16.0. Asked privately whether they'd see each other again, Phillipa said yes and Clay said yes, and that moved it one step better than the numbers alone.
“Has anyone ever asked her what her news is?”
Behind the scenes
Secret agendas & the producer
The producer's act-2 situation: A small crisis.
Phillipa Larkshore: Find someone adventurous
Clay Tennor: Avoid talking about work
Diary cam: what they said after
See them again? Yes
See them again? Yes
Guess the dealbreaker
Phillipa Larkshore's real dealbreaker was Whispering. Or mumbling. I cannot abide a mumbler. Also, anyone who calls my bell a 'dinner gong'.. You didn't guess this one.
You didn't predict this one.
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