With the holidays, I need a week off from writing. Feel free to vote on episode 9 for one more week. (I will also address the voting snafu that Angela pointed out. :) )
Chad
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Survivor: The Initiative Episode 9
Survivor: the Initiative Episode 9
Breakdowns
Day 25
Voletta Todd, Ion, continuing her strategy of trying to make herself valuable to the team, brought in an ionic field full of plucked fruits from the tops of the forest trees. Voletta was proud of her performance in the game thus far. She’d been a quiet, steady presence on her various teams. She’d been valuable around camp, valuable in voting, and hadn’t really made any enemies. Indeed, she’d tried to befriend many of them, though those strange alliances were not really valid; Biohazard was gone now, and Nocturne was rarely seen away from Battle Star’s side in recent days.
Voletta set the fruits in a stack by the fire. The Symkarian wilds had little to offer in the way of fruits, only bitter, shelled things, or so Voletta was told (as she couldn’t eat at all and thus hadn’t tasted the fruits). Voletta looked around the camp and saw that it was empty, which surprised her. She was the only one that didn’t sleep, and her six teammates had all been sleeping. She’d only been away from camp for an hour, and here she was, alone now. No wait, someone was still in the shelter. Who was that?
Voletta floated closer to the ramshackle wooden shelter, covered in fronds and ferns to keep out the rain. It had stormed heavily all night, and there seemed to be only a brief reprieve this morning. There was a woman in the shelter, sleeping. It clearly wasn’t Nocturne, in fact it looked more like Number Nine, who’d been gone for days. When Voletta stepped into the shelter, the woman she didn’t recognize sat up and screamed. Voletta flew backward in a panic.
“Noo! NO!” The woman looked at her arms, examining them. Voletta suddenly realized this was Valkyrie, though in a smaller, less muscular form. “Not again! I am not this woman anymore!” As Voletta watched, the woman stood and pushed her way past Voletta and out of the shelter. “Out of my way!” The woman then closed her eyes and seemed to focus inwardly on herself, her face showing great strain. She opened her eyes and panic flashed there. “NO!”
Voletta stayed a distance away. “Valkyrie? Is everything okay?”
“No! It’s not okay! I turned back into my human self again! I didn’t will the transformation, it just happened in my sleep! And—and now I can’t change back into Valkyrie! What’s wrong with me?”
Voletta felt a number of emotions course through her. Annoyance at Valkyrie’s tears. A bit of concern for her longtime ally. But mostly, overwhelmingly, a deep-seated swelling of fury. It was like a dam broke inside her and a river of unresolved emotions washed forward. With a furious scream breaking from her, Voletta unleashed a wall of ionic energy at the shelter, collapsing it in upon itself, destroying it completely.
With a cold fury, Voletta turned around and saw Valkyrie uncharacteristically cowering there before her, looking frightened for her life. “How dare you.” Voletta was practically whispering. “How dare you tell me of the curse of being human. How dare you lock yourself in an immortal form and hide your human self from us. How dare you tell me there is something wrong with you.”
And with the realization that something in her had shifted beyond repair, Voletta willed herself to fly away.
Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, was frustrated. He’d come down to the lake shore for a bit of solace. He’d awakened earlier than his tribe mates, earlier than all save Ion (well, she didn’t sleep anyway) and walked down here. He’d had barely a moment to himself in the last several days. What, with all the drama up at camp leading up to Steel Spider’s departure, with this new bizarre “relationship” he found himself in with Nocturne, with the constant pressure of trying to make it in this game weighing on his shoulders… he just needed a few minutes to himself. The rain had stopped for a short time, but now it was steadily falling again. Lemar sat nestled against a large tree trunk to keep himself dry, but it was cold, and with each drop of rain, he felt his spirits fall a bit farther.
“Brother Lemar, may I have a word?” Lemar saw Derwyddon standing a few feet away, his brown robes soaked and clinging to his form. Lemar sighed. He shrugged and slid over slightly so that Derwyddon could sit next to him.
“Geez, old man, you must be freezing.”
Derwyddon didn’t look at Lemar. “I rarely feel the effects of nature upon my form. It is mine to command the elements, not to be subject to their fickle nature.”
Lemar rolled his eyes, then steadied himself. “What’s up?”
“Brother Lemar, several days ago I asked you of your motivations, and you expressed to me that you were meant to be a hero. I wondered how you came to that resolve.”
Lemar was confused. “I don’t know that there was some moment that I suddenly decided it was for me. Life just led me down that path.”
“Life. Not fate? Not god?”
“Look, Derwyddon, I believe I make my own fate. Whether or not a god exists, and I believe there is one, I still think I’m in charge of my own path. I’m not on some scripted path of events that I am meant to complete.”
Derwyddon looked at him now. “I have lost my faith that my path is being directed. I once felt compelled to be here. Then, recently, I felt it was my duty to see the wrongs done to my brethren, such as Steel Spider, righted. But now that wayward youth is gone. I have not been able to determine who in our camp is the poison among us. And I find myself overwhelmed with memories of my past failures. Brother Lemar, I am… weary. And, as modern mortals put it, depressed. I no longer know my place, and I no longer know my path.”
As a fresh wave of annoyance washed over him, Lemar turned away to look at the lake, riddled with pinpricks along the surface where the drops of rain were hitting. “Sounds to me like you never knew your path to begin with.”
And not for the first time, Lemar wondered if he ought to just throw in his hat and go back to jail.
Day 26
As the rain poured down around him, Brendan Doyle, MAULER, sat in his armor. He hadn’t taken the armor off in two full days now. It was uncomfortable, and he knew that he reeked, but it was easier than dealing with the cold and the rain. And it gave him an automatic mask. No one could read his facial expressions and reactions when he had his helmet on.
Things around camp were a mess. The rain was pelting them so hard they couldn’t get a fire going. Their shelter had been shattered into pieces and no one was saying how. Valkyrie had changed into some hottie blonde who kept crying all the time. No one had seen Ion and Nocturne in over 24 hours, and Battle Star and Derwyddon were so depressed they barely did anything at all.
But, Brendan noted to himself, that was pretty much exactly how he and Sandstorm had wanted it around camp. Everyone miserable and not trusting each other. Everyone infighting. Their two biggest threats, Battle Star and Valkyrie, who were primarily threats due to their strength of character, were now off the playing field. And Brendan felt safe simply kicking back for a bit and ignoring the game for a day, giving in to his own self-pity for a time.
Brendan looked over at Sandstorm, who had used his grit armor to create a solid rain guard around him; Brendan was guessing that Sandstorm could do that for all of the team, but he knew that wasn’t part of his ally’s strategy for sure. Sandstorm smiled, though there was no joy in his eyes.
“You ever killed a man, Doyle?”
Brendan felt a shiver down his spine, and was glad again for his helmet. “Aye. Back in me mercenary days. Never for sport, always for cash. What about ye?”
“Dozens, at this point. But always for a purpose. Always for cause.”
Brendan looked over at the camera that was recording them, knowing there were government agents watching their every move. “I’ve changed since then, though, laddie. I’m not the same man anymore. I’m workin’ at bein’ a hero now.”
“See, I’m still the exact same guy. I’m still the guy willing to do what it takes to get the job done.”
Brendan lowered his voice, though he knew the cameras were picking up his every word. “Tony, what’re ye doin’? Why’re ye bein’ so… candid, what with the cameras right here?”
Sandstorm stood up now, and looked right at MAULER. “Because it didn’t matter that I kept my motivations a secret. The government found ways to get telepaths in my head and pull my secrets out of me. No there is no reason to hide it.” Sandstorm looked at the camera directly now. “And I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way.” Then he looked back at MAULER. “Luckily, I’ve still got allies who have my back.”
As Sandstorm walked away, MAULER felt cold dread creep through his system. He had joined an alliance with Sandstorm because it suited him, it was something he could be a bit devious about, and he liked being a bit devious. But he didn’t know then that Sandstorm was a murderer; he didn’t know that this kid was so dangerous. So unstable. He had to get out of the alliance, before he was judged by the government to be a threat rather than a potential hero. He had to get out now. Or he’d never get his kid back.
Angela Cairn, Nocturne, felt the water surround her form and it seemed to flow into her skin, into her tissues and veins and organs. The water purified her, somehow, and she felt her body changing. She lay at the bottom of the lake, where she’d been for the last thirty hours and more. She didn’t need to breathe or sleep or eat. She was regenerating. She was being reborn.
Angela had been reborn in water once before. After her initial transformation into this creature of the night the fed on the pains of others, she’d been killed and had lain in the water for several days before awakening, and finding herself a new being. She hoped her rebirth now would be as dramatic. She needed this change. She needed to be over the pains of the past, for once and for all.
Under the water as she was, Angela couldn’t scream. She couldn’t cry. And the ache in her heart had steadily decreased. She would always love Jackie Kessler, but she didn’t have to mourn her lost partner so intensely. She didn’t have to suffer so terribly and for so long any longer. She could be new. She could feel hope. Maybe she could even speak without restriction again. This new transformation would be powerful indeed, she just knew it.
Several hours later, Angela’s form rose to the top of the water. Her transformation was complete. She moved forward, testing out her wings, her legs, her lungs. Testing her new voice. She reached out with her emotional powers and realized they were somehow sharper than before. The pain was gone! The pain was gone.
Day 27
Immunity Challenge
Jasper Sitwell looked through the rain as the seven remaining contestants gathered. He immediately noted some marked differences among them. Ion floated eerily away from the group while Nocturne, looking confident instead of frightened, clutched the arm of a downtrodden Battle Star. Derwyddon looked exhausted and MAULER and Sandstorm, who were usually rather chummy, stood on opposite sides of the group from each other. But most startling of all was Valkyrie now stood in her frail human form of Samantha Parrington, looking miserable and wet. Jasper knew that these self-awareness challenges would be taking their toll on the group, but he hadn’t expected so profound an impact so soon into the challenges.
Jasper introduced the guest for this challenge, a bizarre mystic named Crimson who had briefly served with the Hulkbusters. Jasper explained that today’s challenge would be proceeded by Crimson using his mystic abilities to ferret out the true motivations of each of the contestants, to learn what would drive them as heroes, and what was driving them to be heroes in the first place. Jasper noticed a dangerous sneer on Sandstorm’s face, but moved on to explain the rest of the challenge. After their motivations were tested, each of them would be put through a difficult obstacle course, involving intense running, climbing, a swim (even though it was raining), and a series of agility tests. The individual to finish fastest would be given immunity and would be safe at that night’s tribal council.
Battle Star was just glad to be out of the rain, even if he wasn’t sure he could take another of these challenges. He didn’t recall ever being so tired, especially not since he’d had super human strength. When Crimson put his fingers on either side of Battle Star’s skull, he felt the spell delving into his very being, and he felt his feelings become exposed. When Crimson was finished, he turned to face the other contestants.
“Lemar Hoskins desires to be a hero for one primary reason: to prove that he can do it. He is tired of being in the shadow of others and wants to become a leader in his own right. But he wants to do it on his own terms.” As Crimson spoke, Lemar felt shame flush his face, and he wasn’t sure why. He knew it was the truth, but why was it so hard to face?
With a briefly renewed determination, Lemar entered the prepared obstacle course. Using his superior strength, he barreled through it and finished in seven minutes. Then the newly familiar emptiness descended upon him once again as he sat back down in the rain.
Ion, still reeling in fury at the others and at herself, wasn’t sure how these challenge hosts got into her brain; she wasn’t even sure she truly had one. Yet here she was, in her containment suit, with Crimson’s hands on either side of her helmet plate.
“Voletta Todd desires to be a hero for one primary reason: to become human again. She so hates her transformed state that she is literally willing to do anything to find her way back to being human. Having tried routes of evil, she is now willing to embrace acts of good.” Voletta was humiliated, having her secret motivations exposed to the group this way. At least they didn’t know it was she who’d destroyed the shelter. Not yet.
Given her ionic state and capacity for endurance, Voletta had expected she’d do well in the obstacle course, but she couldn’t simply fly through the portions that required running. Struggling to manipulate her body suit to follow her mental commands, it took her a full twelve minutes to complete the challenge.
With a cold realization, Sandstorm sat down and saw Crimson standing before him. He considered refusing to participate in the challenge, but knew that that would disqualify him from the game. It would be now that everyone would know his motivations, his willingness to do anything to stop the government from using humans as weapons. He figured that after this, he would be forced back to jail, and not even allowed to finish the game, and he felt sick inside. All his goals, all his hard work, gone.
“Tony Trainer desires to be a hero for one primary reason: to protect the rights of the innocent and the victim. Despite his efforts to discover his own life path, Tony has struggled to find the best ways to accomplish his mission, and he is now learning that following the path of a true hero is the way to do so.” Tony was absolutely flabbergasted at this. Could this be true? It didn’t seem like Crimson was lying. Was Tony… changing?
Tony had a difficult time focusing on the challenge. He cruised through it on autopilot, failing to use his grit armor as effectively as he normally would. With his thoughts spinning and his mind racing, Tony finished the challenge in seventeen minutes.
Samantha Parrington (she wouldn’t think of herself as Valkyrie, she couldn’t) sat shivering, wet, cold, and hungry. She couldn’t figure out how she had ended up here. Her hero self was strong and self-assured, but she’d somehow kept Samantha from being her human self for several months. How had this happened? Samantha didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t change back to Valkyrie, and she didn’t know if she even wanted to. She closed her eyes tightly when Crimson placed his hands on her head.
“Samantha Parrington wants to be a hero for one primary reason: to prove to herself once and for all that she is an individual who can make her own way in life. Not willing to rely on anyone for help or to ask anyone for advice, Samantha has spent months wrapped in her immortal form to avoid facing the pains of mortality. She fears failure more than anything else.”
With a cold, knowing dread inside her, Samantha worked her way slowly through the challenge, but her mortal muscles just weren’t up to the task of this difficult competition. She wouldn’t quit, however, and finally finished, after forty-four painful minutes on the course.
MAULER was struggling within himself to find what his own motivations were, and he felt shocked that he couldn’t say for sure. It used to be money. He wanted to think it was his son now, but that wasn’t a for sure either, that might be just an ideal. He felt a cold sweat as he took off his helmet for the first time in days and allowed Crimson to place his hands on his head.
“Brendan Doyle wants to be a hero for one primary reason: to find some semblance of happiness in his life. After years of searching for it, Brendan is subconsciously realizing that he doesn’t have anything to bring him steady or lasting happiness. He hasn’t found it in family, adventure, or self, and he is hoping that the life of a hero will bring him the happiness he has longed for.”
Filled with an embarrassed fury, thinking Crimson had called him some kind of sissy, Brendan flubbed in the immunity challenge, making a few careless mistakes that caused him to start the course over. He finished in eighteen minutes.
Derwyddon would normally be curious at meeting another mystic, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew he had a penchant for feeling low, but this was bigger, more unsettling, than his last depression. He truly didn’t care what happened to him in this moment.
“Derwyddon wants to be a hero for one primary reason: he wants to feel like his life has some purpose. Derwyddon is confused by the centuries-long path his life has taken, and he has a habit of looking for meaning in the smallest of things, attributing his faith and self-doubt to spirituality. This motivation is in contrast to his greatest fear, that his life has no meaning at all.”
Derwyddon, expecting to feel an increased amount of depression, instead felt an increased amount of apathy at hearing these words. He couldn’t will his magic to work for him, not under these circumstances. He simply stood in the entrance of the challenge for several minutes before he was told that he could sit this one out if he so chose. He chose to sit it out.
Nocturne felt the intense gaze radiating outward from Crimson as he extended his hands toward her. The flavor of this intensity was powerful. Nocturne was loving this new experience she had of savoring the flavors of positive and strong emotions, rather than just the pain in other beings.
“Angela wants to be a hero for one primary reason: to prove herself better than those around her, or at least as capable as them. This is a new motivation, one that has come after years of pains and self-recriminations. Angela now realizes that her role as a hero can be as a triumphant individual, and not only one who absorbs the pain of others to cover up the pain of self.”
Feeling more confidence than previously, due to her drinking of the intensity of Crimson, Angela pushed herself through the course and finished it in nine minutes, using her strength, prehensile hair, and wings to her benefit at all the right moments.
With the rain coming down around him, Jasper held out the immunity necklace to Battle Star, who looked less than thrilled to receive it.
Tribal Council
After welcoming in the two members of the jury, Biohazard and Steel Spider, Jasper began asking questions to the strangely changed group. “Valkyrie, there seem to be some not so subtle shifts among your group tonight. What happened?”
Jasper was shocked when she began to cry. “Our shelter, it’s gone, somehow wiped out. And the rain. And we are all just going through some p-personal things.”
MAULER jumped in before Jasper could ask another question. “There’s been a lot’a tension around camp these last few days. We’re all jest getting’ ta know one another better, I suppose, and getting’ ta know ourselves better at the same time.”
Jasper focused on Derwyddon. “Derwyddon, you seem especially miserable this evening. What is going on?”
Derwyddon refused to make eye contact and simply didn’t answer. Jasper quickly moved into the voting.
The first vote was for Battle Star. This was from Derwyddon, who was sticking to his past strategy.
The second vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Samantha Parrington, who wanted to see the sad old man finally put out of his misery
The third vote was for Battle Star. This was from Sandstorm, who still wanted his greatest competitor out of the game.
The fourth vote was for Sandstorm. This was from MAULER, who wanted to unsettle his former ally.
The fifth vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Battle Star, who couldn’t stand the mage’s self-recriminations.
The sixth vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Nocturne, who was voting along with her alliances in Valkyrie and Battle Star.
The seventh vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Ion, who was clued in to the vote by a surprisingly confident Nocturne.
With sadness, Jasper announced that Derwyddon would be the tenth person voted out and the third member of the jury. He didn’t have time to extinguish Derwyddon’s torch as Derwyddon did it himself with a gesture. He walked away with a disappointment that seemed to speak of just one more failure in a long life worth of them.
Thank you for your votes and participation! We are back on schedule this week, and this was a close vote! We are now down to six, with only a few more weeks left to go in our little competition here. There are still more shake-ups to come, and they’ll last right to the end of the game. I hope you are enjoying the series, and the character progression (shh, that’s my favorite part, if you couldn’t tell).
Voting closes on Tuesday again this week, and you can post votes here, Email, or send them on facebook. Who goes next? Due to random determination, Nocturne gets immunity next week.
Team Rogers:
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)—immunity
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
Breakdowns
Day 25
Voletta Todd, Ion, continuing her strategy of trying to make herself valuable to the team, brought in an ionic field full of plucked fruits from the tops of the forest trees. Voletta was proud of her performance in the game thus far. She’d been a quiet, steady presence on her various teams. She’d been valuable around camp, valuable in voting, and hadn’t really made any enemies. Indeed, she’d tried to befriend many of them, though those strange alliances were not really valid; Biohazard was gone now, and Nocturne was rarely seen away from Battle Star’s side in recent days.
Voletta set the fruits in a stack by the fire. The Symkarian wilds had little to offer in the way of fruits, only bitter, shelled things, or so Voletta was told (as she couldn’t eat at all and thus hadn’t tasted the fruits). Voletta looked around the camp and saw that it was empty, which surprised her. She was the only one that didn’t sleep, and her six teammates had all been sleeping. She’d only been away from camp for an hour, and here she was, alone now. No wait, someone was still in the shelter. Who was that?
Voletta floated closer to the ramshackle wooden shelter, covered in fronds and ferns to keep out the rain. It had stormed heavily all night, and there seemed to be only a brief reprieve this morning. There was a woman in the shelter, sleeping. It clearly wasn’t Nocturne, in fact it looked more like Number Nine, who’d been gone for days. When Voletta stepped into the shelter, the woman she didn’t recognize sat up and screamed. Voletta flew backward in a panic.
“Noo! NO!” The woman looked at her arms, examining them. Voletta suddenly realized this was Valkyrie, though in a smaller, less muscular form. “Not again! I am not this woman anymore!” As Voletta watched, the woman stood and pushed her way past Voletta and out of the shelter. “Out of my way!” The woman then closed her eyes and seemed to focus inwardly on herself, her face showing great strain. She opened her eyes and panic flashed there. “NO!”
Voletta stayed a distance away. “Valkyrie? Is everything okay?”
“No! It’s not okay! I turned back into my human self again! I didn’t will the transformation, it just happened in my sleep! And—and now I can’t change back into Valkyrie! What’s wrong with me?”
Voletta felt a number of emotions course through her. Annoyance at Valkyrie’s tears. A bit of concern for her longtime ally. But mostly, overwhelmingly, a deep-seated swelling of fury. It was like a dam broke inside her and a river of unresolved emotions washed forward. With a furious scream breaking from her, Voletta unleashed a wall of ionic energy at the shelter, collapsing it in upon itself, destroying it completely.
With a cold fury, Voletta turned around and saw Valkyrie uncharacteristically cowering there before her, looking frightened for her life. “How dare you.” Voletta was practically whispering. “How dare you tell me of the curse of being human. How dare you lock yourself in an immortal form and hide your human self from us. How dare you tell me there is something wrong with you.”
And with the realization that something in her had shifted beyond repair, Voletta willed herself to fly away.
Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, was frustrated. He’d come down to the lake shore for a bit of solace. He’d awakened earlier than his tribe mates, earlier than all save Ion (well, she didn’t sleep anyway) and walked down here. He’d had barely a moment to himself in the last several days. What, with all the drama up at camp leading up to Steel Spider’s departure, with this new bizarre “relationship” he found himself in with Nocturne, with the constant pressure of trying to make it in this game weighing on his shoulders… he just needed a few minutes to himself. The rain had stopped for a short time, but now it was steadily falling again. Lemar sat nestled against a large tree trunk to keep himself dry, but it was cold, and with each drop of rain, he felt his spirits fall a bit farther.
“Brother Lemar, may I have a word?” Lemar saw Derwyddon standing a few feet away, his brown robes soaked and clinging to his form. Lemar sighed. He shrugged and slid over slightly so that Derwyddon could sit next to him.
“Geez, old man, you must be freezing.”
Derwyddon didn’t look at Lemar. “I rarely feel the effects of nature upon my form. It is mine to command the elements, not to be subject to their fickle nature.”
Lemar rolled his eyes, then steadied himself. “What’s up?”
“Brother Lemar, several days ago I asked you of your motivations, and you expressed to me that you were meant to be a hero. I wondered how you came to that resolve.”
Lemar was confused. “I don’t know that there was some moment that I suddenly decided it was for me. Life just led me down that path.”
“Life. Not fate? Not god?”
“Look, Derwyddon, I believe I make my own fate. Whether or not a god exists, and I believe there is one, I still think I’m in charge of my own path. I’m not on some scripted path of events that I am meant to complete.”
Derwyddon looked at him now. “I have lost my faith that my path is being directed. I once felt compelled to be here. Then, recently, I felt it was my duty to see the wrongs done to my brethren, such as Steel Spider, righted. But now that wayward youth is gone. I have not been able to determine who in our camp is the poison among us. And I find myself overwhelmed with memories of my past failures. Brother Lemar, I am… weary. And, as modern mortals put it, depressed. I no longer know my place, and I no longer know my path.”
As a fresh wave of annoyance washed over him, Lemar turned away to look at the lake, riddled with pinpricks along the surface where the drops of rain were hitting. “Sounds to me like you never knew your path to begin with.”
And not for the first time, Lemar wondered if he ought to just throw in his hat and go back to jail.
Day 26
As the rain poured down around him, Brendan Doyle, MAULER, sat in his armor. He hadn’t taken the armor off in two full days now. It was uncomfortable, and he knew that he reeked, but it was easier than dealing with the cold and the rain. And it gave him an automatic mask. No one could read his facial expressions and reactions when he had his helmet on.
Things around camp were a mess. The rain was pelting them so hard they couldn’t get a fire going. Their shelter had been shattered into pieces and no one was saying how. Valkyrie had changed into some hottie blonde who kept crying all the time. No one had seen Ion and Nocturne in over 24 hours, and Battle Star and Derwyddon were so depressed they barely did anything at all.
But, Brendan noted to himself, that was pretty much exactly how he and Sandstorm had wanted it around camp. Everyone miserable and not trusting each other. Everyone infighting. Their two biggest threats, Battle Star and Valkyrie, who were primarily threats due to their strength of character, were now off the playing field. And Brendan felt safe simply kicking back for a bit and ignoring the game for a day, giving in to his own self-pity for a time.
Brendan looked over at Sandstorm, who had used his grit armor to create a solid rain guard around him; Brendan was guessing that Sandstorm could do that for all of the team, but he knew that wasn’t part of his ally’s strategy for sure. Sandstorm smiled, though there was no joy in his eyes.
“You ever killed a man, Doyle?”
Brendan felt a shiver down his spine, and was glad again for his helmet. “Aye. Back in me mercenary days. Never for sport, always for cash. What about ye?”
“Dozens, at this point. But always for a purpose. Always for cause.”
Brendan looked over at the camera that was recording them, knowing there were government agents watching their every move. “I’ve changed since then, though, laddie. I’m not the same man anymore. I’m workin’ at bein’ a hero now.”
“See, I’m still the exact same guy. I’m still the guy willing to do what it takes to get the job done.”
Brendan lowered his voice, though he knew the cameras were picking up his every word. “Tony, what’re ye doin’? Why’re ye bein’ so… candid, what with the cameras right here?”
Sandstorm stood up now, and looked right at MAULER. “Because it didn’t matter that I kept my motivations a secret. The government found ways to get telepaths in my head and pull my secrets out of me. No there is no reason to hide it.” Sandstorm looked at the camera directly now. “And I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way.” Then he looked back at MAULER. “Luckily, I’ve still got allies who have my back.”
As Sandstorm walked away, MAULER felt cold dread creep through his system. He had joined an alliance with Sandstorm because it suited him, it was something he could be a bit devious about, and he liked being a bit devious. But he didn’t know then that Sandstorm was a murderer; he didn’t know that this kid was so dangerous. So unstable. He had to get out of the alliance, before he was judged by the government to be a threat rather than a potential hero. He had to get out now. Or he’d never get his kid back.
Angela Cairn, Nocturne, felt the water surround her form and it seemed to flow into her skin, into her tissues and veins and organs. The water purified her, somehow, and she felt her body changing. She lay at the bottom of the lake, where she’d been for the last thirty hours and more. She didn’t need to breathe or sleep or eat. She was regenerating. She was being reborn.
Angela had been reborn in water once before. After her initial transformation into this creature of the night the fed on the pains of others, she’d been killed and had lain in the water for several days before awakening, and finding herself a new being. She hoped her rebirth now would be as dramatic. She needed this change. She needed to be over the pains of the past, for once and for all.
Under the water as she was, Angela couldn’t scream. She couldn’t cry. And the ache in her heart had steadily decreased. She would always love Jackie Kessler, but she didn’t have to mourn her lost partner so intensely. She didn’t have to suffer so terribly and for so long any longer. She could be new. She could feel hope. Maybe she could even speak without restriction again. This new transformation would be powerful indeed, she just knew it.
Several hours later, Angela’s form rose to the top of the water. Her transformation was complete. She moved forward, testing out her wings, her legs, her lungs. Testing her new voice. She reached out with her emotional powers and realized they were somehow sharper than before. The pain was gone! The pain was gone.
Day 27
Immunity Challenge
Jasper Sitwell looked through the rain as the seven remaining contestants gathered. He immediately noted some marked differences among them. Ion floated eerily away from the group while Nocturne, looking confident instead of frightened, clutched the arm of a downtrodden Battle Star. Derwyddon looked exhausted and MAULER and Sandstorm, who were usually rather chummy, stood on opposite sides of the group from each other. But most startling of all was Valkyrie now stood in her frail human form of Samantha Parrington, looking miserable and wet. Jasper knew that these self-awareness challenges would be taking their toll on the group, but he hadn’t expected so profound an impact so soon into the challenges.
Jasper introduced the guest for this challenge, a bizarre mystic named Crimson who had briefly served with the Hulkbusters. Jasper explained that today’s challenge would be proceeded by Crimson using his mystic abilities to ferret out the true motivations of each of the contestants, to learn what would drive them as heroes, and what was driving them to be heroes in the first place. Jasper noticed a dangerous sneer on Sandstorm’s face, but moved on to explain the rest of the challenge. After their motivations were tested, each of them would be put through a difficult obstacle course, involving intense running, climbing, a swim (even though it was raining), and a series of agility tests. The individual to finish fastest would be given immunity and would be safe at that night’s tribal council.
Battle Star was just glad to be out of the rain, even if he wasn’t sure he could take another of these challenges. He didn’t recall ever being so tired, especially not since he’d had super human strength. When Crimson put his fingers on either side of Battle Star’s skull, he felt the spell delving into his very being, and he felt his feelings become exposed. When Crimson was finished, he turned to face the other contestants.
“Lemar Hoskins desires to be a hero for one primary reason: to prove that he can do it. He is tired of being in the shadow of others and wants to become a leader in his own right. But he wants to do it on his own terms.” As Crimson spoke, Lemar felt shame flush his face, and he wasn’t sure why. He knew it was the truth, but why was it so hard to face?
With a briefly renewed determination, Lemar entered the prepared obstacle course. Using his superior strength, he barreled through it and finished in seven minutes. Then the newly familiar emptiness descended upon him once again as he sat back down in the rain.
Ion, still reeling in fury at the others and at herself, wasn’t sure how these challenge hosts got into her brain; she wasn’t even sure she truly had one. Yet here she was, in her containment suit, with Crimson’s hands on either side of her helmet plate.
“Voletta Todd desires to be a hero for one primary reason: to become human again. She so hates her transformed state that she is literally willing to do anything to find her way back to being human. Having tried routes of evil, she is now willing to embrace acts of good.” Voletta was humiliated, having her secret motivations exposed to the group this way. At least they didn’t know it was she who’d destroyed the shelter. Not yet.
Given her ionic state and capacity for endurance, Voletta had expected she’d do well in the obstacle course, but she couldn’t simply fly through the portions that required running. Struggling to manipulate her body suit to follow her mental commands, it took her a full twelve minutes to complete the challenge.
With a cold realization, Sandstorm sat down and saw Crimson standing before him. He considered refusing to participate in the challenge, but knew that that would disqualify him from the game. It would be now that everyone would know his motivations, his willingness to do anything to stop the government from using humans as weapons. He figured that after this, he would be forced back to jail, and not even allowed to finish the game, and he felt sick inside. All his goals, all his hard work, gone.
“Tony Trainer desires to be a hero for one primary reason: to protect the rights of the innocent and the victim. Despite his efforts to discover his own life path, Tony has struggled to find the best ways to accomplish his mission, and he is now learning that following the path of a true hero is the way to do so.” Tony was absolutely flabbergasted at this. Could this be true? It didn’t seem like Crimson was lying. Was Tony… changing?
Tony had a difficult time focusing on the challenge. He cruised through it on autopilot, failing to use his grit armor as effectively as he normally would. With his thoughts spinning and his mind racing, Tony finished the challenge in seventeen minutes.
Samantha Parrington (she wouldn’t think of herself as Valkyrie, she couldn’t) sat shivering, wet, cold, and hungry. She couldn’t figure out how she had ended up here. Her hero self was strong and self-assured, but she’d somehow kept Samantha from being her human self for several months. How had this happened? Samantha didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t change back to Valkyrie, and she didn’t know if she even wanted to. She closed her eyes tightly when Crimson placed his hands on her head.
“Samantha Parrington wants to be a hero for one primary reason: to prove to herself once and for all that she is an individual who can make her own way in life. Not willing to rely on anyone for help or to ask anyone for advice, Samantha has spent months wrapped in her immortal form to avoid facing the pains of mortality. She fears failure more than anything else.”
With a cold, knowing dread inside her, Samantha worked her way slowly through the challenge, but her mortal muscles just weren’t up to the task of this difficult competition. She wouldn’t quit, however, and finally finished, after forty-four painful minutes on the course.
MAULER was struggling within himself to find what his own motivations were, and he felt shocked that he couldn’t say for sure. It used to be money. He wanted to think it was his son now, but that wasn’t a for sure either, that might be just an ideal. He felt a cold sweat as he took off his helmet for the first time in days and allowed Crimson to place his hands on his head.
“Brendan Doyle wants to be a hero for one primary reason: to find some semblance of happiness in his life. After years of searching for it, Brendan is subconsciously realizing that he doesn’t have anything to bring him steady or lasting happiness. He hasn’t found it in family, adventure, or self, and he is hoping that the life of a hero will bring him the happiness he has longed for.”
Filled with an embarrassed fury, thinking Crimson had called him some kind of sissy, Brendan flubbed in the immunity challenge, making a few careless mistakes that caused him to start the course over. He finished in eighteen minutes.
Derwyddon would normally be curious at meeting another mystic, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew he had a penchant for feeling low, but this was bigger, more unsettling, than his last depression. He truly didn’t care what happened to him in this moment.
“Derwyddon wants to be a hero for one primary reason: he wants to feel like his life has some purpose. Derwyddon is confused by the centuries-long path his life has taken, and he has a habit of looking for meaning in the smallest of things, attributing his faith and self-doubt to spirituality. This motivation is in contrast to his greatest fear, that his life has no meaning at all.”
Derwyddon, expecting to feel an increased amount of depression, instead felt an increased amount of apathy at hearing these words. He couldn’t will his magic to work for him, not under these circumstances. He simply stood in the entrance of the challenge for several minutes before he was told that he could sit this one out if he so chose. He chose to sit it out.
Nocturne felt the intense gaze radiating outward from Crimson as he extended his hands toward her. The flavor of this intensity was powerful. Nocturne was loving this new experience she had of savoring the flavors of positive and strong emotions, rather than just the pain in other beings.
“Angela wants to be a hero for one primary reason: to prove herself better than those around her, or at least as capable as them. This is a new motivation, one that has come after years of pains and self-recriminations. Angela now realizes that her role as a hero can be as a triumphant individual, and not only one who absorbs the pain of others to cover up the pain of self.”
Feeling more confidence than previously, due to her drinking of the intensity of Crimson, Angela pushed herself through the course and finished it in nine minutes, using her strength, prehensile hair, and wings to her benefit at all the right moments.
With the rain coming down around him, Jasper held out the immunity necklace to Battle Star, who looked less than thrilled to receive it.
Tribal Council
After welcoming in the two members of the jury, Biohazard and Steel Spider, Jasper began asking questions to the strangely changed group. “Valkyrie, there seem to be some not so subtle shifts among your group tonight. What happened?”
Jasper was shocked when she began to cry. “Our shelter, it’s gone, somehow wiped out. And the rain. And we are all just going through some p-personal things.”
MAULER jumped in before Jasper could ask another question. “There’s been a lot’a tension around camp these last few days. We’re all jest getting’ ta know one another better, I suppose, and getting’ ta know ourselves better at the same time.”
Jasper focused on Derwyddon. “Derwyddon, you seem especially miserable this evening. What is going on?”
Derwyddon refused to make eye contact and simply didn’t answer. Jasper quickly moved into the voting.
The first vote was for Battle Star. This was from Derwyddon, who was sticking to his past strategy.
The second vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Samantha Parrington, who wanted to see the sad old man finally put out of his misery
The third vote was for Battle Star. This was from Sandstorm, who still wanted his greatest competitor out of the game.
The fourth vote was for Sandstorm. This was from MAULER, who wanted to unsettle his former ally.
The fifth vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Battle Star, who couldn’t stand the mage’s self-recriminations.
The sixth vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Nocturne, who was voting along with her alliances in Valkyrie and Battle Star.
The seventh vote was for Derwyddon. This was from Ion, who was clued in to the vote by a surprisingly confident Nocturne.
With sadness, Jasper announced that Derwyddon would be the tenth person voted out and the third member of the jury. He didn’t have time to extinguish Derwyddon’s torch as Derwyddon did it himself with a gesture. He walked away with a disappointment that seemed to speak of just one more failure in a long life worth of them.
Thank you for your votes and participation! We are back on schedule this week, and this was a close vote! We are now down to six, with only a few more weeks left to go in our little competition here. There are still more shake-ups to come, and they’ll last right to the end of the game. I hope you are enjoying the series, and the character progression (shh, that’s my favorite part, if you couldn’t tell).
Voting closes on Tuesday again this week, and you can post votes here, Email, or send them on facebook. Who goes next? Due to random determination, Nocturne gets immunity next week.
Team Rogers:
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)—immunity
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Survivor: the Initiative Episode 7
Survivor: the Initiative Episode 7
Targets on Backs
Day 22
As Brendan Doyle, MAULER, thought back to the contestants they’d voted off previously (primarily Brother Nature, Number Nine, and Biohazard), he figured most of the major drama queens would be already gone. Nope. Despite getting rid of the weirdest guys, and despite having mostly men left in the game, Brendan found himself surrounded by drama queens.
“Woman, it is not your place to question my direction or my motives. I find the Initiative a confining and despicable use of government power.” In the three weeks Brendan had known Derwyddon, he’d never seen the old man lose his cool like this. Ion could really push his buttons.
Ion was floating in front of Derwyddon, her weird suit holding in all that energy that made up her body. “First of all, Derwyddon, you should address me with more respect. I am a renowned scientist, and calling me ‘woman’ is derogatory and unappreciated.” Ion waited while Derwyddon gave a humph. “And secondly, if you hold such scorn for the Initiative in the first place, then why did you choose to enroll, no less to take part in this competition?”
Derwyddon’s cheeks reddened slightly. It was like they’d both forgotten that Brendan was standing there. “I have a difficult time explaining this to those… not of my faith. Please understand. I’m centuries old. I come from a different age of man, before the cursed religion of Christianity wiped out the pagan faiths across the Earth. I little approve of institutionalization or those who choose to support it.”
Ion floated down to the ground now and stepped in close to Derwyddon. “Then why did you choose to enroll?” Brendan found himself curious about the answer as well.
“I had nothing to do with the decision. It is where my gods chose to send me.”
Ion threw up her hands. Brendan was shocked about how passionate she was sounding. She generally came across as so clinical and stoic. “So despite being centuries old and having a wealth of wisdom to draw from, you choose to rely upon some inner compass to guide your every move. Then you attribute it to messages from god, despite the fact that the very thing you are being ‘instructed’ to do goes against the very person you profess to be at your core.”
Brendan expected the old man to be angry, but Derwyddon looked into the distance, like he was remembering something old. “When I first awakened, my fury was so great that I ensorcelled a group of monsters to destroy the very world around me. I spent the next few centuries atoning for that mistake, hunting down those monsters until I felled the last just a few years ago. My path since then has been a mystery to me. I know that I am to right the injustices done. Injustices such as a government agent biting the arm off of a misled hero, our own ally the Steel Spider.”
Ion’s face mask turned toward Brendan and gave him the chills, as she always did. “My ‘path’, as you call it, is not so different. My own intense focus on science led me to being the creature I am now. I see the Initiative as the opportunity to not only redeem myself, but to find a cure for myself as well.”
Brendan walked away from the pair, letting them continue their heart to heart without him. He wondered at the contestants he was surrounded by. Derwyddon, an incredibly powerful sorcerer who was undergoing a centuries-long identity crisis. Or Ion, a sentient gas who wanted people around to believe she was sincere in everything she said and did; Brendan didn’t believe a word.
Brendan couldn’t wait until he could talk to Sandstorm about this. A few more weaknesses in their opponents they could exploit, just as soon as their plans against Battle Star and Valkyrie, their biggest threats, bore fruit.
“How did you get your powers, Angela?”
Angela Cairn, Nocturne, felt the strength radiating off of Battle Star as she nestled against him. They were alone in their shelter and he’d invited her to take a rest. She had sensed his surprise when she had lain next to him and put her head on his shoulder. He’d immediately rested his hand on her back, in between her pliable wings. She felt safe. Angela had never really thought of strength as an emotional state, but Battle Star was an incredibly self-confident man. Such a refreshing place to be, his arms, after all the uncertainty and pain of the past few years.
Her voice trilled as she spoke. “My past, it is difficult to speak of. You have heard of Baron Zemo?”
She felt Battle Star nod. “Yeah, he’s one of Captain America’s bad guys.”
“Yes. He created a machine, a terrible machine that mutates the human form. It painfully mutates you into a new being, one that reflects your various subconscious desires or thoughts of self. For me, at the time of my transformation, I was in incredible pain over the loss of my partner. I had been a police officer, eager to prove myself on a force full of men, but I had failed the person most important to me. I was transformed against my will, and changed into a creature of the night. A creature who could hide in the shadows, who could defend herself, and who could make others hurt as she did, but one constantly forced to feel the pains of others as well.”
Battle Star’s chest moved evenly below her head as he breathed in. Angela drank in his strength as he spoke. “I went through a pretty painful transformation myself, in the Power Broker’s machines, but I did it willingly. Did you ever find Baron Zemo and stop him?”
Angela fought away the fear that filled her when she thought of the Mutilation Killer. “Zemo was never my enemy. It was one of his mutates, the Mutilation Killer, who killed my partner and transformed me. I have put that part of my past to rest.”
“So what have you been doing since?”
“I’ve been helping those who feared as I did, who hurt as I did. I’ve been taking their pains upon myself to give them peace.”
Battle Star lifted Angela’s head with a hand and rolled onto his side to look at her. “But you don’t deserve all that pain. Not a beautiful creature like you.”
Angela looked away. Because she was scared. Because she was embarrassed. But mostly because she was feeling something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Desire.
Battle Star leaned in closer, his head on his hand, his beautiful brown eyes focused on hers. “Don’t fly away.” His voice was so soft.
Then he kissed her.
Day 23
Oliver Osnick, the Steel Spider, remembered all the big words his psychiatrists had thrown around in prison at him. Histrionic. Hero worship. Attention-seeking. Antisocial. Provocative. Exaggerated expression of emotion. Personality disorder. Delusions of grandeur. Narcissistic.
Oliver understood every word. He cognitively recognized the truth in everything the doctors told him about himself. About his brain chemistry. They helped him understand how pervasive his disorders could be. They knew of his brilliant mind, which he had frequently turned to weapons design (including that of his amazing harness). Oliver was not an idiot. The doctors helped him understand himself.
Then they locked him up, doped him up on medication, and forgot about him.
Oliver had chosen to go off the medication. He’d quit it cold turkey, all in one day. That’d been a few months ago. All the withdrawal was done now, and he had a free-thinking mind was again. As Oliver dipped his hand into the lake and cupped water in it, he wondered if things weren’t getting bad again. He knew he’d been emotionally reactive in this game, that he’d been moody and irritable and that he’d even had a few delusions. But this was training to be a hero. A hero! He could do this.
As he looked back at the water, he noticed Sandstorm standing above him, and Oliver immediately tensed up. He didn’t like people sneaking up on him or getting so close. “What do you want, Trainer?”
Sandstorm smiled that bright while smile of his, offset by his dark ebony skin. “Calm down, Ollie. I just saw you down here and thought we could talk for a minute.”
“I don’t really have anything to say to you.” Oliver stood up and moved to walk away, but Sandstorm caught his shoulder.
“Listen, out of respect for an ally, even though we aren’t good friends, I wanted you to be aware, Valkyrie is gunning for you. She’s been talking with everyone privately about voting you off next. Apparently she thinks you are unstable and not a very good hero, at least that is what she told me.”
Oliver refused to respond to Sandstorm and instead took the hand off of him and walked away. Once in the trees, Oliver attached his harness, then he extended his metal legs and used the to propel him across the beach. Where was Valkyrie? He needed to confront her now, while his anger was still hot.
It took him several minutes, but Oliver found her, her feet in the water on the other side of the small lake. Valkyrie had been laying on her back, soaking in some sun, before Oliver had approached, now she was sitting up and looking at him expectantly.
Oliver settled down next to her, pulled back his mask, and looked her in the eyes. “I know what you’ve been saying about me. I know you are after me. And I won’t go down without a fight.”
Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “Oh, my plans are exposed, are they? And who has been telling you of my game strategies?”
Oliver, pushing down his fury, stood up and extended his metal legs to move away. “I know about all your little secret alliances. You try to vote me out, I’ll expose you to everyone.” And with that boast, he rushed away.
Day 24
Immunity Challenge
Jasper welcomed the eight contestants to the new immunity challenge. He introduced this challenges guest star, the bizarre Think Tank, a fledgling hero with his eyed brain preserved in a jar atop his body, and a premier member of Montana’s Freedom Force. The contestants, except for Nocturne, seemed a bit uneasy around him and took their seats. Jasper explained that the format of this challenge would be much like the last one. Each contestant would work privately with Think Tank to determine what their greatest failure had been in the past, as opposed to their greatest fear in the previous challenge. They would then be given an electronic gun and given the chance to shoot as many targets as they could in a gallery filled with cutouts of villains; two points would be lost for every hero or civilian “shot” during the challenge, and one point gained for each target successfully acquired. The order of the contestants was determined randomly, and the contestant with the highest point total would win immunity.
As Battle Star took a seat in front of Think Tank, he steeled himself in an effort to maintain calm. The greatest fear challenge had shaken him more than he’d expected, and he intended to be prepared for this one. This experience was more intense than the last one. Instead of just seeing a form in front of him, Battle Star found him, in his own mind, transported back to the moment of his greatest failure, required to live it all over again.
As Battle Star recognized where he was, he felt a stone drop in his stomach. The militant Watchdogs, again! The same group that had hung him and left him for dead. They had targeted the elderly parents of John Walker, who was then acting as Captain America. And, before their eyes, the elderly Walkers were gunned down! Fodder for the criminals, who were trying to put the new heroes in their place. Battle Star had relived the failure, and the pain it had caused his friend, dozens of times, and the pain hurt as badly today as it ever did.
When Battle Star moved into the shooting gallery, he did his best to put his own concerns aside. He wasn’t used to offensive weaponry, and made several mistakes. At the end, he walked out with a score of 17.
MAULER prepared himself, but truly felt like he had no regrets in his life. Sure, he’d missed the birth of his son, but Daniel’s rat of a mother had never even told MAULER she was pregnant, so that was a regret, just something to be mad about. Before he could reflect further, Think Tank had pulled MAULER’s mind into events from the past.
It was just a few years ago. Brendan Doyle had been hired by Edwin Cord to steal the MAULER armor, but he’d come across his old soldier-of-fortune partner James Rhodes. After donning the armor himself, Doyle had gone to battle with Iron Man and he soon realized that he wouldn’t be able to complete his entire mission. His reputation ruined, Doyle decided to keep the armor himself and start life as a costumed criminal instead. And that was his regret; going from a mercenary to a criminal had been a terrible idea, and all of Doyle’s setbacks could be traced to that decision.
In the shooting gallery, MAULER used his armor’s reaction timing to easily take out each of the targets with pinpoint accuracy. He surprised everyone, except himself, with a score of 95.
As Think Tank entered Derwyddon’s mind, the old druid already knew what to expect, and he wasn’t surprised. He briefly noted the irony of this “vision” falling directly after his last, when he’d faced his fear of being stuck in the ocean for so long. Here he was, newly awakened, reborn in a world he no longer understood. Derwyddon experienced again the shame, the pain, the frustration, and the fury at finding the world overwhelmed by Christianity, finding his own faith null. Derwyddon had lashed out with his new magics, creating deadly monsters, cursing the Earth with a flock of demons sent to destroy all things that sang of this new faith. One act of fury that had taken Derwyddon centuries to atone for.
On the shooting gallery, freshly overcome with shame and unfamiliar with the associated technology, Derwyddon fired multiple times, missing or hitting a wrong target nearly every time. He finished with a shameful -30 points.
Nocturne’s insides went cold as this strange man with the brain on his head used a telepathic energy to read her mind. She knew what was coming. It was the same as her greatest fear. It was the turning point in her life, when she went from being a human to being a nonhuman, from working to prove herself to being a creature of the night. The death of Jackie Kessler. Jackie’s image was ingrained in Nocturne’s brain, at the forefront of her thoughts, at the edge of her every action. And yet seeing Jackie come to life before her caused Nocturne too much pain, just as it had the challenge before this. Even with the possibility of finding love and safety with Battle Star now in her life, Nocturne could not face this now. She couldn’t face it ever.
She once again opted out of the physical part of the challenge, and flew away to console herself.
Sandstorm knew this moment would come eventually. This was the point when everyone would start to learn the truth about him. He’d be questioned and the authorities would wonder why they even allowed him into the Initiative in the first place. But they were invested in him already, and they couldn’t cut him loose, not now.
As Think Tank entered his brain, Sandstorm willed the memories to come upon him. He was in Canada, during one of his assignments. The government there had a secret branch, something they called Department K, and a program that they used to turn humans into weapons, heroes into soldiers. A group called Weapon PRIME was fighting Sandstorm away, attempting to stop him from infiltrating the government facility. And they succeeded. They repelled Sandstorm’s grit armor, stopped him long enough for the government agents in the facility to get away. Sandstorm had later hunted down and killed three of the men, the ones he could find, but this, the moment of his greatest failure, had been the first time a super human presence had stopped him from meeting his goals.
With cold calculation, he entered the shooting gallery, fired on the assigned targets, and left with a score of 22.
Regret was an emotion that Valkyrie did not feel, and did not allow herself to feel. So she had suspected that when Think Tank entered her brain he would simply walk right back out, disappointed at finding no weakness there. Instead, she heard the voice.
“You can’t keep me in here forever! You have to let me out! I have a life to live! A family! Goals, wishes, dreams, pains, desires, wants, hurts! You can’t keep me stifled in here under your shell of strength! I feel! I exist!” The words sounded loudly in Valkyrie’s ears. It was the voice of her human self, Samantha Parrington, the very part of her identity that she’d kept hidden all these weeks. She couldn’t face this, anything but this, anything but her own weakness.
Valkyrie entered the shooting gallery shaky, unsure of herself, and she hated herself for feeling that way. This, plus her unfamiliarity with offensive weaponry, yielded her a score of 10.
Ion knew that this exercise would reawaken her old failure to turn herself back into human form, so she steeled herself emotionally and waited there while Think Tank entered her brain.
She was right. Her mind was taken back to the cold climates of northern Greenland. She’d moved there for a time after her transformation, using her scientific moneys to purchase a small cabin. She spent as much time as she could in the extreme colds, loving the feeling of being human again, but freezing at the same time. Within weeks, she’d taken incredibly ill and had to stay in her energy form to keep from dying. The pain of the transformation had never been greater than at that time.
Ion used her ionic field to hold the electric gun, but she lacked the mobility to use the weapon properly. Cursing that she couldn’t use her own powers in this competition, she scored a mere 8 points.
Steel Spider had a multitude of regrets on which to draw, but he had no idea which one was the greatest. He almost wondered if it would be allowing himself to remain overweight so long in his youth. But he shouldn’t have been surprised when Think Tank entered his brain.
He was taken back to the time when he sat at Jane Lane’s bedside, seeing her nearly dead because of his inability to save her from that nearly fatal gunshot wound. The beautiful girl who’d seen the best in him, who’d relied on him to be there for her. There she lay, helpless, and it was all his fault.
Steel Spider tried to put his concerns aside and focus on the challenge. He was an excellent marksman, after all. He fired shot after shot, but he was too overwhelmed and hit too many false targets. He ended with a score of 12.
Jasper declared MAULER the challenge’s winner, by a longshot, and granted him immunity in the upcoming tribal council.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
As the eight remaining contestants took a seat around the fire in the shelter, it began to rain hard outside. They watched as the sole member of their jury, Biohazard, his power dampener still secure around his neck, arrived to watch the proceedings. Jasper proceeded with the questioning.
“Battle Star, in the last tribal council, you were nearly voted out. Where do you see your position in the game now?”
“Jasper, I’m still not sure what happened. No one will fess up to voting for me in the first place. I obviously don’t know what is going on with everyone around me, but I ain’t scared of any of them. They are right to see me as their toughest competition.”
“MAULER, with immunity around your neck, you are safe tonight. Do you think this was a good night for you to have immunity?”
“Aye, fer sure, laddie. Ye can never be too sure in this game what is gannae happen, an’ I’m happy ta be havin’ assured safety, that’s fer sure.”
“Derwyddon, are the new immunity challenges causing more difficulties for you in the game, and what impact are they having on a group as a whole?”
Derwyddon was thoughtful. “These challenges are unsettling. They aren’t a test of strength, but of character. They are requiring us to look at our individual motivations and to determine where we stand as heroes. Most challenging indeed.”
Jasper then moved on to the votes.
The first vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Nocturne, who was voting along with her womens’ alliance and who wanted the most unstable party out of the game.
The second vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Ion, who was following Valkyrie’s instruction in getting rid of an unstable competitor.
The third vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Valkyrie, who wanted this bizarre competitor who had challenged her out of the game.
The fourth vote was for Battle Star. This was from Derwyddon, who was repeating his previous vote.
The fifth vote was for Battle Star. This was from Sandstorm, who wanted his toughest competitor out of the game.
The sixth vote was for Battle Star. This was from MAULER, who was voting along with Sandstorm, seeking to sow discord among the tribe.
The seventh vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Battle Star, who now saw Steel Spider as least deserving of being a hero, though he was concerned about the new revelations regarding Sandstorm.
The eighth vote was for Battle Star. This was from Steel Spider, who was clued into this vote by Sandstorm.
Jasper announced that they had their first Survivor tie. He explained that everyone would have to revote, and that if there was still a tie, then the six contestants without votes would have to draw rocks and one of them would be randomly sent home.
During the revote, everyone kept their vote the same, except for Derwyddon, who didn’t want to trust the fate of the rocks. Steel Spider was announced as the next person voted out of the game. Jasper extinguished his torch and the would-be hero slowly walked away.
Thank you to everyone who voted and who continues to stick with this little story of mine! I hope you continue to enjoy it! We are down to our final seven contestants, and are rapidly moving toward the conclusion of the game. Five men, three women, only one sole survivor among them.
Next episode is titled Breakdowns, and everyone of our characters goes through some startling changes as they react to the revelations about themselves in the immunity challenges. Their self-discovery, and their own abilities to be heroes, will be tested like never before. Episode 9 begins the character tracks that will take them through to the end of the game. Don’t miss it!
As always, you can post votes here, Email them, or send them through on facebook. Due to random selection, Battle Star gets immunity next episode, and boy does he need it!
TEAM ROGERS
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins) (immunity)
Derwyddon
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
Targets on Backs
Day 22
As Brendan Doyle, MAULER, thought back to the contestants they’d voted off previously (primarily Brother Nature, Number Nine, and Biohazard), he figured most of the major drama queens would be already gone. Nope. Despite getting rid of the weirdest guys, and despite having mostly men left in the game, Brendan found himself surrounded by drama queens.
“Woman, it is not your place to question my direction or my motives. I find the Initiative a confining and despicable use of government power.” In the three weeks Brendan had known Derwyddon, he’d never seen the old man lose his cool like this. Ion could really push his buttons.
Ion was floating in front of Derwyddon, her weird suit holding in all that energy that made up her body. “First of all, Derwyddon, you should address me with more respect. I am a renowned scientist, and calling me ‘woman’ is derogatory and unappreciated.” Ion waited while Derwyddon gave a humph. “And secondly, if you hold such scorn for the Initiative in the first place, then why did you choose to enroll, no less to take part in this competition?”
Derwyddon’s cheeks reddened slightly. It was like they’d both forgotten that Brendan was standing there. “I have a difficult time explaining this to those… not of my faith. Please understand. I’m centuries old. I come from a different age of man, before the cursed religion of Christianity wiped out the pagan faiths across the Earth. I little approve of institutionalization or those who choose to support it.”
Ion floated down to the ground now and stepped in close to Derwyddon. “Then why did you choose to enroll?” Brendan found himself curious about the answer as well.
“I had nothing to do with the decision. It is where my gods chose to send me.”
Ion threw up her hands. Brendan was shocked about how passionate she was sounding. She generally came across as so clinical and stoic. “So despite being centuries old and having a wealth of wisdom to draw from, you choose to rely upon some inner compass to guide your every move. Then you attribute it to messages from god, despite the fact that the very thing you are being ‘instructed’ to do goes against the very person you profess to be at your core.”
Brendan expected the old man to be angry, but Derwyddon looked into the distance, like he was remembering something old. “When I first awakened, my fury was so great that I ensorcelled a group of monsters to destroy the very world around me. I spent the next few centuries atoning for that mistake, hunting down those monsters until I felled the last just a few years ago. My path since then has been a mystery to me. I know that I am to right the injustices done. Injustices such as a government agent biting the arm off of a misled hero, our own ally the Steel Spider.”
Ion’s face mask turned toward Brendan and gave him the chills, as she always did. “My ‘path’, as you call it, is not so different. My own intense focus on science led me to being the creature I am now. I see the Initiative as the opportunity to not only redeem myself, but to find a cure for myself as well.”
Brendan walked away from the pair, letting them continue their heart to heart without him. He wondered at the contestants he was surrounded by. Derwyddon, an incredibly powerful sorcerer who was undergoing a centuries-long identity crisis. Or Ion, a sentient gas who wanted people around to believe she was sincere in everything she said and did; Brendan didn’t believe a word.
Brendan couldn’t wait until he could talk to Sandstorm about this. A few more weaknesses in their opponents they could exploit, just as soon as their plans against Battle Star and Valkyrie, their biggest threats, bore fruit.
“How did you get your powers, Angela?”
Angela Cairn, Nocturne, felt the strength radiating off of Battle Star as she nestled against him. They were alone in their shelter and he’d invited her to take a rest. She had sensed his surprise when she had lain next to him and put her head on his shoulder. He’d immediately rested his hand on her back, in between her pliable wings. She felt safe. Angela had never really thought of strength as an emotional state, but Battle Star was an incredibly self-confident man. Such a refreshing place to be, his arms, after all the uncertainty and pain of the past few years.
Her voice trilled as she spoke. “My past, it is difficult to speak of. You have heard of Baron Zemo?”
She felt Battle Star nod. “Yeah, he’s one of Captain America’s bad guys.”
“Yes. He created a machine, a terrible machine that mutates the human form. It painfully mutates you into a new being, one that reflects your various subconscious desires or thoughts of self. For me, at the time of my transformation, I was in incredible pain over the loss of my partner. I had been a police officer, eager to prove myself on a force full of men, but I had failed the person most important to me. I was transformed against my will, and changed into a creature of the night. A creature who could hide in the shadows, who could defend herself, and who could make others hurt as she did, but one constantly forced to feel the pains of others as well.”
Battle Star’s chest moved evenly below her head as he breathed in. Angela drank in his strength as he spoke. “I went through a pretty painful transformation myself, in the Power Broker’s machines, but I did it willingly. Did you ever find Baron Zemo and stop him?”
Angela fought away the fear that filled her when she thought of the Mutilation Killer. “Zemo was never my enemy. It was one of his mutates, the Mutilation Killer, who killed my partner and transformed me. I have put that part of my past to rest.”
“So what have you been doing since?”
“I’ve been helping those who feared as I did, who hurt as I did. I’ve been taking their pains upon myself to give them peace.”
Battle Star lifted Angela’s head with a hand and rolled onto his side to look at her. “But you don’t deserve all that pain. Not a beautiful creature like you.”
Angela looked away. Because she was scared. Because she was embarrassed. But mostly because she was feeling something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Desire.
Battle Star leaned in closer, his head on his hand, his beautiful brown eyes focused on hers. “Don’t fly away.” His voice was so soft.
Then he kissed her.
Day 23
Oliver Osnick, the Steel Spider, remembered all the big words his psychiatrists had thrown around in prison at him. Histrionic. Hero worship. Attention-seeking. Antisocial. Provocative. Exaggerated expression of emotion. Personality disorder. Delusions of grandeur. Narcissistic.
Oliver understood every word. He cognitively recognized the truth in everything the doctors told him about himself. About his brain chemistry. They helped him understand how pervasive his disorders could be. They knew of his brilliant mind, which he had frequently turned to weapons design (including that of his amazing harness). Oliver was not an idiot. The doctors helped him understand himself.
Then they locked him up, doped him up on medication, and forgot about him.
Oliver had chosen to go off the medication. He’d quit it cold turkey, all in one day. That’d been a few months ago. All the withdrawal was done now, and he had a free-thinking mind was again. As Oliver dipped his hand into the lake and cupped water in it, he wondered if things weren’t getting bad again. He knew he’d been emotionally reactive in this game, that he’d been moody and irritable and that he’d even had a few delusions. But this was training to be a hero. A hero! He could do this.
As he looked back at the water, he noticed Sandstorm standing above him, and Oliver immediately tensed up. He didn’t like people sneaking up on him or getting so close. “What do you want, Trainer?”
Sandstorm smiled that bright while smile of his, offset by his dark ebony skin. “Calm down, Ollie. I just saw you down here and thought we could talk for a minute.”
“I don’t really have anything to say to you.” Oliver stood up and moved to walk away, but Sandstorm caught his shoulder.
“Listen, out of respect for an ally, even though we aren’t good friends, I wanted you to be aware, Valkyrie is gunning for you. She’s been talking with everyone privately about voting you off next. Apparently she thinks you are unstable and not a very good hero, at least that is what she told me.”
Oliver refused to respond to Sandstorm and instead took the hand off of him and walked away. Once in the trees, Oliver attached his harness, then he extended his metal legs and used the to propel him across the beach. Where was Valkyrie? He needed to confront her now, while his anger was still hot.
It took him several minutes, but Oliver found her, her feet in the water on the other side of the small lake. Valkyrie had been laying on her back, soaking in some sun, before Oliver had approached, now she was sitting up and looking at him expectantly.
Oliver settled down next to her, pulled back his mask, and looked her in the eyes. “I know what you’ve been saying about me. I know you are after me. And I won’t go down without a fight.”
Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “Oh, my plans are exposed, are they? And who has been telling you of my game strategies?”
Oliver, pushing down his fury, stood up and extended his metal legs to move away. “I know about all your little secret alliances. You try to vote me out, I’ll expose you to everyone.” And with that boast, he rushed away.
Day 24
Immunity Challenge
Jasper welcomed the eight contestants to the new immunity challenge. He introduced this challenges guest star, the bizarre Think Tank, a fledgling hero with his eyed brain preserved in a jar atop his body, and a premier member of Montana’s Freedom Force. The contestants, except for Nocturne, seemed a bit uneasy around him and took their seats. Jasper explained that the format of this challenge would be much like the last one. Each contestant would work privately with Think Tank to determine what their greatest failure had been in the past, as opposed to their greatest fear in the previous challenge. They would then be given an electronic gun and given the chance to shoot as many targets as they could in a gallery filled with cutouts of villains; two points would be lost for every hero or civilian “shot” during the challenge, and one point gained for each target successfully acquired. The order of the contestants was determined randomly, and the contestant with the highest point total would win immunity.
As Battle Star took a seat in front of Think Tank, he steeled himself in an effort to maintain calm. The greatest fear challenge had shaken him more than he’d expected, and he intended to be prepared for this one. This experience was more intense than the last one. Instead of just seeing a form in front of him, Battle Star found him, in his own mind, transported back to the moment of his greatest failure, required to live it all over again.
As Battle Star recognized where he was, he felt a stone drop in his stomach. The militant Watchdogs, again! The same group that had hung him and left him for dead. They had targeted the elderly parents of John Walker, who was then acting as Captain America. And, before their eyes, the elderly Walkers were gunned down! Fodder for the criminals, who were trying to put the new heroes in their place. Battle Star had relived the failure, and the pain it had caused his friend, dozens of times, and the pain hurt as badly today as it ever did.
When Battle Star moved into the shooting gallery, he did his best to put his own concerns aside. He wasn’t used to offensive weaponry, and made several mistakes. At the end, he walked out with a score of 17.
MAULER prepared himself, but truly felt like he had no regrets in his life. Sure, he’d missed the birth of his son, but Daniel’s rat of a mother had never even told MAULER she was pregnant, so that was a regret, just something to be mad about. Before he could reflect further, Think Tank had pulled MAULER’s mind into events from the past.
It was just a few years ago. Brendan Doyle had been hired by Edwin Cord to steal the MAULER armor, but he’d come across his old soldier-of-fortune partner James Rhodes. After donning the armor himself, Doyle had gone to battle with Iron Man and he soon realized that he wouldn’t be able to complete his entire mission. His reputation ruined, Doyle decided to keep the armor himself and start life as a costumed criminal instead. And that was his regret; going from a mercenary to a criminal had been a terrible idea, and all of Doyle’s setbacks could be traced to that decision.
In the shooting gallery, MAULER used his armor’s reaction timing to easily take out each of the targets with pinpoint accuracy. He surprised everyone, except himself, with a score of 95.
As Think Tank entered Derwyddon’s mind, the old druid already knew what to expect, and he wasn’t surprised. He briefly noted the irony of this “vision” falling directly after his last, when he’d faced his fear of being stuck in the ocean for so long. Here he was, newly awakened, reborn in a world he no longer understood. Derwyddon experienced again the shame, the pain, the frustration, and the fury at finding the world overwhelmed by Christianity, finding his own faith null. Derwyddon had lashed out with his new magics, creating deadly monsters, cursing the Earth with a flock of demons sent to destroy all things that sang of this new faith. One act of fury that had taken Derwyddon centuries to atone for.
On the shooting gallery, freshly overcome with shame and unfamiliar with the associated technology, Derwyddon fired multiple times, missing or hitting a wrong target nearly every time. He finished with a shameful -30 points.
Nocturne’s insides went cold as this strange man with the brain on his head used a telepathic energy to read her mind. She knew what was coming. It was the same as her greatest fear. It was the turning point in her life, when she went from being a human to being a nonhuman, from working to prove herself to being a creature of the night. The death of Jackie Kessler. Jackie’s image was ingrained in Nocturne’s brain, at the forefront of her thoughts, at the edge of her every action. And yet seeing Jackie come to life before her caused Nocturne too much pain, just as it had the challenge before this. Even with the possibility of finding love and safety with Battle Star now in her life, Nocturne could not face this now. She couldn’t face it ever.
She once again opted out of the physical part of the challenge, and flew away to console herself.
Sandstorm knew this moment would come eventually. This was the point when everyone would start to learn the truth about him. He’d be questioned and the authorities would wonder why they even allowed him into the Initiative in the first place. But they were invested in him already, and they couldn’t cut him loose, not now.
As Think Tank entered his brain, Sandstorm willed the memories to come upon him. He was in Canada, during one of his assignments. The government there had a secret branch, something they called Department K, and a program that they used to turn humans into weapons, heroes into soldiers. A group called Weapon PRIME was fighting Sandstorm away, attempting to stop him from infiltrating the government facility. And they succeeded. They repelled Sandstorm’s grit armor, stopped him long enough for the government agents in the facility to get away. Sandstorm had later hunted down and killed three of the men, the ones he could find, but this, the moment of his greatest failure, had been the first time a super human presence had stopped him from meeting his goals.
With cold calculation, he entered the shooting gallery, fired on the assigned targets, and left with a score of 22.
Regret was an emotion that Valkyrie did not feel, and did not allow herself to feel. So she had suspected that when Think Tank entered her brain he would simply walk right back out, disappointed at finding no weakness there. Instead, she heard the voice.
“You can’t keep me in here forever! You have to let me out! I have a life to live! A family! Goals, wishes, dreams, pains, desires, wants, hurts! You can’t keep me stifled in here under your shell of strength! I feel! I exist!” The words sounded loudly in Valkyrie’s ears. It was the voice of her human self, Samantha Parrington, the very part of her identity that she’d kept hidden all these weeks. She couldn’t face this, anything but this, anything but her own weakness.
Valkyrie entered the shooting gallery shaky, unsure of herself, and she hated herself for feeling that way. This, plus her unfamiliarity with offensive weaponry, yielded her a score of 10.
Ion knew that this exercise would reawaken her old failure to turn herself back into human form, so she steeled herself emotionally and waited there while Think Tank entered her brain.
She was right. Her mind was taken back to the cold climates of northern Greenland. She’d moved there for a time after her transformation, using her scientific moneys to purchase a small cabin. She spent as much time as she could in the extreme colds, loving the feeling of being human again, but freezing at the same time. Within weeks, she’d taken incredibly ill and had to stay in her energy form to keep from dying. The pain of the transformation had never been greater than at that time.
Ion used her ionic field to hold the electric gun, but she lacked the mobility to use the weapon properly. Cursing that she couldn’t use her own powers in this competition, she scored a mere 8 points.
Steel Spider had a multitude of regrets on which to draw, but he had no idea which one was the greatest. He almost wondered if it would be allowing himself to remain overweight so long in his youth. But he shouldn’t have been surprised when Think Tank entered his brain.
He was taken back to the time when he sat at Jane Lane’s bedside, seeing her nearly dead because of his inability to save her from that nearly fatal gunshot wound. The beautiful girl who’d seen the best in him, who’d relied on him to be there for her. There she lay, helpless, and it was all his fault.
Steel Spider tried to put his concerns aside and focus on the challenge. He was an excellent marksman, after all. He fired shot after shot, but he was too overwhelmed and hit too many false targets. He ended with a score of 12.
Jasper declared MAULER the challenge’s winner, by a longshot, and granted him immunity in the upcoming tribal council.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
As the eight remaining contestants took a seat around the fire in the shelter, it began to rain hard outside. They watched as the sole member of their jury, Biohazard, his power dampener still secure around his neck, arrived to watch the proceedings. Jasper proceeded with the questioning.
“Battle Star, in the last tribal council, you were nearly voted out. Where do you see your position in the game now?”
“Jasper, I’m still not sure what happened. No one will fess up to voting for me in the first place. I obviously don’t know what is going on with everyone around me, but I ain’t scared of any of them. They are right to see me as their toughest competition.”
“MAULER, with immunity around your neck, you are safe tonight. Do you think this was a good night for you to have immunity?”
“Aye, fer sure, laddie. Ye can never be too sure in this game what is gannae happen, an’ I’m happy ta be havin’ assured safety, that’s fer sure.”
“Derwyddon, are the new immunity challenges causing more difficulties for you in the game, and what impact are they having on a group as a whole?”
Derwyddon was thoughtful. “These challenges are unsettling. They aren’t a test of strength, but of character. They are requiring us to look at our individual motivations and to determine where we stand as heroes. Most challenging indeed.”
Jasper then moved on to the votes.
The first vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Nocturne, who was voting along with her womens’ alliance and who wanted the most unstable party out of the game.
The second vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Ion, who was following Valkyrie’s instruction in getting rid of an unstable competitor.
The third vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Valkyrie, who wanted this bizarre competitor who had challenged her out of the game.
The fourth vote was for Battle Star. This was from Derwyddon, who was repeating his previous vote.
The fifth vote was for Battle Star. This was from Sandstorm, who wanted his toughest competitor out of the game.
The sixth vote was for Battle Star. This was from MAULER, who was voting along with Sandstorm, seeking to sow discord among the tribe.
The seventh vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Battle Star, who now saw Steel Spider as least deserving of being a hero, though he was concerned about the new revelations regarding Sandstorm.
The eighth vote was for Battle Star. This was from Steel Spider, who was clued into this vote by Sandstorm.
Jasper announced that they had their first Survivor tie. He explained that everyone would have to revote, and that if there was still a tie, then the six contestants without votes would have to draw rocks and one of them would be randomly sent home.
During the revote, everyone kept their vote the same, except for Derwyddon, who didn’t want to trust the fate of the rocks. Steel Spider was announced as the next person voted out of the game. Jasper extinguished his torch and the would-be hero slowly walked away.
Thank you to everyone who voted and who continues to stick with this little story of mine! I hope you continue to enjoy it! We are down to our final seven contestants, and are rapidly moving toward the conclusion of the game. Five men, three women, only one sole survivor among them.
Next episode is titled Breakdowns, and everyone of our characters goes through some startling changes as they react to the revelations about themselves in the immunity challenges. Their self-discovery, and their own abilities to be heroes, will be tested like never before. Episode 9 begins the character tracks that will take them through to the end of the game. Don’t miss it!
As always, you can post votes here, Email them, or send them through on facebook. Due to random selection, Battle Star gets immunity next episode, and boy does he need it!
TEAM ROGERS
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins) (immunity)
Derwyddon
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
Friday, December 4, 2009
Survior: the Initiative Episode 7
Survivor: the Initiative Episode 7
The Merge
Day 19
Jasper Sitwell stood before the motley assemblage of contestants that remained in the game and smiled menacingly. He’d had practice with giving off an aura of menace as an agent of SHIELD, frequently undercover, but this time he used it simply to keep the players on their toes. He’d practiced the look in the mirror and found it rather effective, if he did say so himself. Six men and three women remained in the game; the odds appeared to be stacked against the women, but Jasper knew that there were fractured alliances among the men, so he was very interested to see how things would go next.
After announcing that Number Nine had been the one to leave (and noting that no one seemed more shocked than MAULER, who seemed to still be reeling from last night’s tribal council), Jasper told the teams that from here forward, they would be competing as individuals on one tribe. Jasper watched them carefully for reactions. Battle Star appeared relieved, and he tried making eye contact with Sandstorm, who was busy exchanging a glance with MAULER, a secret knowing look. Steel Spider looked panicked as he eyed the others nervously, and Jasper worried, not for the first time, about his sanity. Biohazard didn’t look up at the group at all, hovering a bit behind Ion, whose expression, as always, was unreadable as she focused her gaze strictly on Jasper. Valkyrie seemed to puff out her chest at this news while Nocturne flitted back, away from the others, looking as though she might be sick.
Not for the first time, Jasper wondered about the very idea and concept of this competition. When the Super Human Registration Act had first been passed, all those across the country with super powers were required to register with the Initiative, the country’s new super hero military. Many had registered right away, while many others refused and had either fled the country, stayed in hiding, or been sent to jail. Each of these contestants were late comers to the Initiative; either former villains who were seeking a way out of jail (like MAULER and Ion), some of those early heroes who’d been in hiding or in jail and who had now had a change of heart (like Battle Star or Steel Spider), or super-powered individuals who’d shown up out of the blue from off the grid (like Nocturne and Derwyddon). In Jasper’s mind, the entire Initiative concept was like the draft of American soldiers into the military, forcibly recruiting uninterested individuals into service. Would the Initiative truly make a difference in the lives of these individuals, or would they prove to be failures and military rejects?
Jasper looked over the group again. What would they be without the Initiative? He figured that was a question they could pose as the game advanced. The contestants, most of them at least, had forgotten the entire purpose of this competition. Was it for ratings? Yes. Was there a lot of money and reputation at stake? Yes. But these people were here to be heroes. When they left the game, they entered military training. Their merits were to be tested, their skills honed and perfected. And Jasper well knew that not all of them would make it to deployment; many of them would be returned to jail or wherever life would take them. But only a few of them would actually make it. Being a hero was a very difficult career, or calling in life. And most of them wouldn’t have what it takes.
Pushing the thoughts out of his brain, Jasper focused back on the contestants. He explained to them that they’d all be moving into the men’s camp, but that the team would now be called Team Rogers, after the world famous hero, Captain America. He promised to see them in two more days at the immunity challenge.
Day 20
Dr. Voletta Todd, Ion, didn’t often allow herself this freedom. She just… loathed her energy form so much, that she often refused to allow herself to see the merits of it. She now existed as a sentient cloud of ionized gas. She was a scientific miracle! And yet she continued fighting to return to her human form. Some of her former professional colleagues would think her a fool, but they didn’t know what it was like to not have hands, to not be able to feel the chill of water in your mouth, to no longer be able to settle into a pillow or to feel the warmth of sun on your skin, to not even know the pleasure of a human touch. In theory, scientists could come up with piles of hypotheses about what life as sentient gas would be, yet they could never know what it was truly like. Voletta didn’t know how to think of it herself, sometimes.
The truth was, when she allowed herself to move past the hatred, she found her new form freeing. And she hated herself for even thinking that way. Her very form could exist in a body the size of an acorn, or in an energy field the size of a sky-scraper. She could dispel and gather energy as needed. She could destroy things with massive explosions of energy, or allow herself to be carried lightly by the smallest of breezes. But what was life with no one to share it with?
Though Voletta generally kept her form contained in a humanoid suit, which at least gave her the semblance of humanity (or, more correctly, allowed those around her to at least perceive her as something human), she was currently floating in her smallest form among the camp. No one could possibly even notice her. And that was what she wanted. To be left alone. She was just an invisible speck of floating energy, and no one could bother her. Here, she could pretend she didn’t exist, for at least a few minutes.
When Voletta looked down, she noticed MAULER, out of his armor, and Sandstorm, his dark ebony skin seemingly absorbing the sunlight around him, whispering in the deepest part of the woods. Voletta floated down toward them, her curiosity getting the better of her, and allowing her to set her self-pity aside for now.
“Well, laddie, we may have been separated into separate tribes, but we both made it tae the merge. Now how do we best put our plan into place?” MAULER was saying.
Sandstorm looked more menacing than Voletta had ever seen him. It was a bit jarring to see the hatred in his face as he spoke. “This is a long term plan, Brendan, and it’s something we’ll have to adapt to as we go. We make the best decision for us day by day, but we do whatever it takes to get us to the end. You, so you can claim victory and make your kid proud. Me, so I can see the Initiative pay once and for all for trying to make weapons out of human beings.”
MAULER clicked his tongue. “So where do we start? If we’re goin’ fer the weakest link, we have to push Biohazard. He’s practically unstable anyway.”
Sandstorm smiled now. “Yes, Biohazard ought to do just fine. But I’m betting he’ll make a target of himself. We need to be prepared to whittle our way in from the fringes.”
And as Voletta watched the men walk their separate ways, she wondered what that had been all about, and what terrible fate they were planning for that poor boy.
“I wanted to give you both equal opportunity. I don’t really care about the results of this competition. I’m here to be a hero, and because I was sick of being in jail, but I want us all to have that chance to succeed here. I don’t want anyone to have to be pushed out because they didn’t fit in well, and that definitely applies to the two of you more than any others.”
Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, flexed his arms over his head as he talked to Nocturne and Biohazard. Nocturne always seemed a bit skittish and frightened, but today she had an aura of calm around her. Lemar could feel the calm radiating off of her, washing over him and putting his nerves and worries aside. It was clear to him that the same calm effect was working on Biohazard, too. He’d never seen that kid so relaxed.
“Y-you can’t tell me what to do,” Biohazard was stammering. “Just cause you’re older and w-worked for the government, you can’t boss the tribe around.”
Lemar sighed. “I’m offering a white flag here, Fletcher. I’d like to have peace between us.”
As Biohazard reacted angrily, Lemar noticed Nocturne sit up a bit straighter, seeming to focus her powers a bit more sharply. “Peace? You want p-peace? You, the leader of the men’s tribe, allowed me to b-be kicked out of camp by a bully! I ain’t forgetting that, Lemar!” As Lemar watched, Biohazard’s flesh started to roll just a bit, like it did when he was losing control of his powers, but then he settled down into relaxation again. Nocturne’s powers were incredible. Much more complicated than his own super strength and endurance.
“Again, I’m ready to have peace between us. I made a bad call back then, and I would like to make amends.”
Biohazard sneered at him and rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to listen to this,” he muttered as he stormed off. Lemar wondered if the kid even noticed that Nocturne had stopped him from losing control this time.
When Biohazard was out of sight, Lemar smiled at Nocturne. “Thank you for keeping him under control. You were wonderful.” Battle Star laughed out loud when he saw Nocturne grin slightly. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Lemar. What is your name?”
Nocturne’s eyes grew wide and then she closed them tightly as she figured something out within herself. Finally, she opened them again and the smile returned. She spoke softly, in a rather melodic trill. “Angela.”
As Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, watched, Derwyddon, his robe heavy and baggy on his ancient form, spread his hands in front of him and the air seemed to solidify. It didn’t give off a particularly different color. It just didn’t… move as the rest of the air did. Samantha wouldn’t ever notice air moving, she supposed, but seeing the air not moving somehow made a difference.
“There. Now try it.” Derwyddon wasn’t smiling, but he was definitely smug, as he stepped away from his block of solidified air. Samantha definitely believed in magic. It was the magic of the Asgardian Enchantress that had first granted her super powers, and the magic’s of Pluto and Lorelei which had combined her into this form. Besides, she’d worked with Dr. Strange extensively, back when he’d been the Sorcerer Supreme and had been working with the Defenders. But Derwyddon somehow lacked that quality she’d come to expect from magic wielders. So she’d asked him to prove his powers. She wanted to see him in action, and to test his mettle as an opponent or as an ally.
With a fluid movement, Samantha unsheathed her sword, pushing away the unpleasant memory of a few days before when she’d unwillingly transformed into her human self. Samantha’s sword was a magic relic in itself. Not only did it carry the enchantment that allowed her to switch to her godly form (and into normal clothes, negating her need to wash as well), it was indestructible and could cut through most anything. Samantha gave the sword a mighty thrust and watched with disbelief as the sword slid off the edge of the solid air block, making a loud metallic sound, rather like a butter knife scraping granite.
“Unbelievable!” Samantha found herself smiling. “I never would have believed that solid air could be more impervious than my enchanted blade.” Derwyddon was smiling, too. When the voice came from above them, they both looked up in shock.
“Let’s see if a real weapon can hurt it!” Steel Spider was holding himself tightly to a tree far above them. He had his four metallic legs spreading outward from him and Samantha could hear the click of offensive weaponry coming into play. She and Derwyddon both stepped quickly to the side as series of laser bursts escaped the tips of Steel Spider’s legs and blasted against the block of solid air, shattering it in a puff of smoke. Samantha and Derwyddon had been close enough to feel the heat off the blasts. “Ha-ha! Looks like science wins over sorcery this time, old man!”
Samantha forced herself to put her sword back in its sheath. She would not grant that child the true reaction he deserved; to be put over her knee and soundly spanked. She would let Derwyddon fight his own battles.
Day 21
The Immunity Challenge
As the nine assembled contestants stood before him, Jasper Sitwell explained that the immunity challenges from here forward in the game would be much more difficult, and that they would be challenging each contestant’s motivations and individual abilities to be a hero. Each of them would compete individually. Today’s challenge would cause each guest to experience one of their greatest fears, to relive a past trauma that was very difficult for them. After said exposure, each contestant would be expected to complete a challenging puzzle. The contestant with the fastest time would win individual immunity.
Jasper then announced that the upcoming challenges would feature various hosts, prepared by the Initiative to lead each challenge. Jasper introduced Trauma, young Terrence Ward, whose powers allowed him to see the greatest fear in a person’s mind, allowing him to then transform into that fear and confront the person with it. Jasper announced that the order of the contestants would be determined randomly.
Steel Spider sat before Trauma first, not knowing what to expect. His greatest fear. He figured it would be the day his old girlfriend, Jane Lane, had been shot and paralyzed. But Trauma surprised him, and made him face up to the very memory Steel Spider had been seeking to hide away from above all others. Before his eyes, Trauma transformed into the slobbering monster Venom. Steel Spider’s heart quickened and he felt cold panic seized him as the monster promised to eat not just his arm, but the rest of his limbs as well. Steel Spider didn’t know whether to fight the creature or run for it. As he stammered a weak-willed protest, he tried willing his metallic legs to raise behind him and fire offensive weaponry at the beast, but Steel Spider collapsed instead. He fainted dead away. It took the doctors over a minute to revive him. Steel Spider refused to even try the puzzle at that point, and opted out of the challenge, walking away from the cameras with hot tears in his eyes.
Valkyrie folded her arms under her breasts as she prepared to face her “greatest fear.” She laughed at the prospect. Her mortal self had many fears, but Valkyrie had none, and she felt safe and secure so long as she didn’t transform. When Trauma transformed into Malicia Parrington, the mother of Samantha, Valkyrie grew confused. Malicia was yelling at Samantha, telling her what a disgrace she was to her family and her heritage, wasting her talents, riches, and good-looks on inane habits and pursuits. When Malicia spouted promises that Samantha would waste away, poor and alone, Valkyrie felt herself growing angry rather than frightened. She told the apparition to silence itself, then strode to the challenge, completing it in just over five minutes.
Derwyddon thought he knew his greatest fear, one that he’d known intently at least twice before in his life, and that was the rejection of his gods, who had deemed him unworthy. So when Trauma took on the form of a much younger Derwyddon, floating in a dreamless sleep beneath the waves, where he’d remained for centuries, Derwyddon was not prepared for the intensity of the fear the gripped him. All those years, wasted! All his potential, washed away! Why had this happened to him, why? Derwyddon was too distracted by thoughts of th e shame his gods must have felt for him to even complete the immunity challenge, which he slowly walked away from.
Battle Star couldn’t recount any great fears from his past. He considered himself very brave, actually, facing down dangerous opponents and taking necessary risks without the slightest hesitation. So he was caught completely off-guard when he saw himself hanging from a noose from a tree by the militant Watchdogs. Battle Star panicked as he remembered that frightening day when, despite his super strength, he’d been strung up and left for dead, because of his race. He felt the shame and the fear of generations of African Americans before him, and felt almost ashamed that he’d lived while they had died. As this terrible vision wore off, Battle Star was shown into the challenge; he worked swiftly to focus his thoughts and was able to finish the challenge in eight minutes.
As Ion watched, Trauma took on the form of her human self, Dr. Voletta Todd, as she looked directly before her transformation. Then she watched as Trauma, as her, melted into her ionic form, as she had during the lab accident so many years ago now. Ion found herself merely bitter, and a bit angry, but not at all shocked or scared. She lived with her greatest fear every day; this was nothing new. But then, the worst came. Trauma, as Ion, began shifting rapidly between the two forms, erratic and painful to watch. As Ion watched, her other self cried out about how she would never return to human, it hurt too much, she would be trapped like this forever. When Ion finally entered the challenge, she found herself distracted by a bitter despair and took nearly ten minutes to complete it.
MAULER had had lots of moments in his life when he’d been afraid, but he didn’t remember one particular time when his fear had been the greatest. He watched Trauma with casual interest, transforming into a much younger Brendan Doyle, before the panicked memories washed over him. He’d been a soldier of fortune, paid handsomely to carry out various missions, including assassinations, on foreign soil. He’d worked closely with James Rhodes, the future War Machine, but this mission had left him stranded in the desert for weeks with no prospect of escape. He’d nearly died out there. MAULER, the image of his nearly dead self in his mind, focused on the difficult challenge and had it finished in 15 minutes.
As Trauma took on the form of a young Tony Trainer, Sandstorm remembered easily what had happened the day he’d received his powers. The mutated sandy specimens of Sandman and Quicksand had melded in the machine, which had then exploded. In that one instant, Sandstorm, who’d been only 19 at the time, had thought for sure he’d be dead. But he got lucky and was granted amazing super powers instead. That moment of intense fear had lasted only briefly and then been replaced by power. Quiet, simmering, resolute power. Sandstorm entered the challenge distracted not by an awakening of fear, but by an awakening of opportunity, of superiority, and he finished the challenge seven minutes later.
Nocturne had considered dropping out of the challenge before it even started, but the emotional medley within Trauma calmed her. He wasn’t there to harm, but to teach, and he seemed to truly believe that if he could help her face her fears, then she would benefit. Drawing upon his strength, she steeled herself as Trauma transformed into Nocturne’s one true love, Detective Jackie Kessler. She’d been Nocturne’s partner in the police and the two had later become lovers, but Jackie had been brutally murdered by the Mutilation Killer. Seizing the feelings of hope and ignoring the fear, Nocturne entered the challenge, but willingly dropped out, not wanting to focus past the images of her Jackie.
Biohazard knew what was coming before Trauma even stepped in front of him. He had relived that moment in his brain, the moment he’d changed into Biohazard for the first time, a hundred times over. But Trauma surprised him by turning into a human Fletcher Traynor now. As Biohazard watched, the Fletcher he saw before him strained against a straitjacket, eyes awash with green energy, mumbling about how he’d killed everyone, how his powers had gone out of control and he’d killed them all. Biohazard couldn’t face the fear and turned into his acidic monster self; as the government agents pulled Trauma to safety, Biohazard screamed in a rage about how he would kill them all.
As Nocturne used her powers, upon request, to calm Biohazard, Jasper brought the group back together and announced that Valkyrie had won immunity. He promised to see them that night.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
Biohazard was still in fits when they reached the tribal council area. With his flesh undulating between skin color and acid green, Jasper finally requested that his agents put a power blocker on the boy, denying him access to his powers at all. When the power blocker in place, Biohazard finally seemed to calm down, and weariness seeped over him as he sat next to his teammates.
Jasper waited until the nine contestants were settled, then he announced to the group that Number Nine had awakened from her coma that afternoon in full possession of her former memories. He let them know that she was receiving the best medical care, and then proceeded to ask them questions about the vote, reminding them that the next person to leave this game would be the first member of their jury, and would ultimately cast a vote for the game’s winner.
“MAULER, how has the game changed for the contestants since the merge?”
“Jasper, m’lad, ye’d think that the men would have the advantage here, bein’ as there’s six of us and only three of the lassies. But we have some dangerous opponents in our midst. I find meself wonderin’ how long before one of us comes unhinged and someone gets hurt! It’s painfully obvious that some contestants aren’t cut out to be heroes.”
Biohazard, his collar blocking his powers, sat up in a fury. “I s-suppose you’re talking about me! Well, be a man and say it to my face! You d-don’t even have any powers, M-MAULER!”
Ion, without turning her head, addressed Biohazard. “Fletcher, calm yourself. You’ll never learn control if you keep flying off the handle like this. Imagine what you’d be like if Nocturne wasn’t calming you.”
Jasper waited a few minutes for the fervor to die down, then returned to the questioning, but he was interrupted by Sandstorm.
“Mr. Sitwell, I have to second MAULER’s question of Biohazard’s presence in the game. If he requires a collar to block his powers, how will he even compete in the game, no less be of service to the Initiative in the long run?”
After another of Biohazard’s outbursts, Jasper stated that the contestant had not yet broken any rules, and that he would see Biohazard continue to undergo the necessary training to make him a hero. Then he transitioned the contestants into voting.
The first vote was for Biohazard. This was from Nocturne, who was weary of having to calm the youth, and have to experience his inner fury, and was voting along with her alliance.
The second vote was for Battle Star. This was from Biohazard, who wanted his revenge on Battle Star for not standing up for him in his early altercation with Brother Nature.
The third vote was for Battle Star. This was from Derwyddon, who saw Battle Star as least in need of his help, and of the least use to him in his personal agenda.
The fourth vote was for Biohazard. This was from the Steel Spider, who tired of the frequent outbursts and drama around camp.
The fifth vote was for Battle Star. This was from MAULER, who sought to remove his steepest competition from the game and had manipulated others, along with Sandstorm, into getting rid of him.
The sixth vote was for Biohazard. This was from Valkyrie, who saw the youth as least deserving of being a hero.
The seventh vote was for Battle Star. This was from Sandstorm, who sought to sow discord in the game by taking out the most natural hero among them.
The eighth vote was for Biohazard. This was from Battle Star, who longed to have peace in his camp again.
The ninth vote was for Biohazard. This was from Ion, who was voting along with her alliance, despite her empathy for Biohazard’s inability to control his powers.
With a narrow margin, Biohazard was voted from the game. As Jasper extinguished his torch, he expected another angry outburst from young Fletcher Traynor, but Biohazard simply hung his head sadly and walked from the camp without a word. As Jasper dismissed the players, he noticed the suspicious looks that Battle Star was passing to the others, and Jasper wondered, not for the first time, what this game would bring next.
After a week vacation, our show is back on, and we are down to half the contestants we once had! Lots of fun things are in the works, so make sure to get your votes in for who you want out next! You can post a vote by replying here, Emailing me, or sending me a message on facebook. Due to random selection, MAULER gets immunity next episode. Happy voting!
TEAM ROGERS
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Derwyddon
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle) (immunity)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
The Merge
Day 19
Jasper Sitwell stood before the motley assemblage of contestants that remained in the game and smiled menacingly. He’d had practice with giving off an aura of menace as an agent of SHIELD, frequently undercover, but this time he used it simply to keep the players on their toes. He’d practiced the look in the mirror and found it rather effective, if he did say so himself. Six men and three women remained in the game; the odds appeared to be stacked against the women, but Jasper knew that there were fractured alliances among the men, so he was very interested to see how things would go next.
After announcing that Number Nine had been the one to leave (and noting that no one seemed more shocked than MAULER, who seemed to still be reeling from last night’s tribal council), Jasper told the teams that from here forward, they would be competing as individuals on one tribe. Jasper watched them carefully for reactions. Battle Star appeared relieved, and he tried making eye contact with Sandstorm, who was busy exchanging a glance with MAULER, a secret knowing look. Steel Spider looked panicked as he eyed the others nervously, and Jasper worried, not for the first time, about his sanity. Biohazard didn’t look up at the group at all, hovering a bit behind Ion, whose expression, as always, was unreadable as she focused her gaze strictly on Jasper. Valkyrie seemed to puff out her chest at this news while Nocturne flitted back, away from the others, looking as though she might be sick.
Not for the first time, Jasper wondered about the very idea and concept of this competition. When the Super Human Registration Act had first been passed, all those across the country with super powers were required to register with the Initiative, the country’s new super hero military. Many had registered right away, while many others refused and had either fled the country, stayed in hiding, or been sent to jail. Each of these contestants were late comers to the Initiative; either former villains who were seeking a way out of jail (like MAULER and Ion), some of those early heroes who’d been in hiding or in jail and who had now had a change of heart (like Battle Star or Steel Spider), or super-powered individuals who’d shown up out of the blue from off the grid (like Nocturne and Derwyddon). In Jasper’s mind, the entire Initiative concept was like the draft of American soldiers into the military, forcibly recruiting uninterested individuals into service. Would the Initiative truly make a difference in the lives of these individuals, or would they prove to be failures and military rejects?
Jasper looked over the group again. What would they be without the Initiative? He figured that was a question they could pose as the game advanced. The contestants, most of them at least, had forgotten the entire purpose of this competition. Was it for ratings? Yes. Was there a lot of money and reputation at stake? Yes. But these people were here to be heroes. When they left the game, they entered military training. Their merits were to be tested, their skills honed and perfected. And Jasper well knew that not all of them would make it to deployment; many of them would be returned to jail or wherever life would take them. But only a few of them would actually make it. Being a hero was a very difficult career, or calling in life. And most of them wouldn’t have what it takes.
Pushing the thoughts out of his brain, Jasper focused back on the contestants. He explained to them that they’d all be moving into the men’s camp, but that the team would now be called Team Rogers, after the world famous hero, Captain America. He promised to see them in two more days at the immunity challenge.
Day 20
Dr. Voletta Todd, Ion, didn’t often allow herself this freedom. She just… loathed her energy form so much, that she often refused to allow herself to see the merits of it. She now existed as a sentient cloud of ionized gas. She was a scientific miracle! And yet she continued fighting to return to her human form. Some of her former professional colleagues would think her a fool, but they didn’t know what it was like to not have hands, to not be able to feel the chill of water in your mouth, to no longer be able to settle into a pillow or to feel the warmth of sun on your skin, to not even know the pleasure of a human touch. In theory, scientists could come up with piles of hypotheses about what life as sentient gas would be, yet they could never know what it was truly like. Voletta didn’t know how to think of it herself, sometimes.
The truth was, when she allowed herself to move past the hatred, she found her new form freeing. And she hated herself for even thinking that way. Her very form could exist in a body the size of an acorn, or in an energy field the size of a sky-scraper. She could dispel and gather energy as needed. She could destroy things with massive explosions of energy, or allow herself to be carried lightly by the smallest of breezes. But what was life with no one to share it with?
Though Voletta generally kept her form contained in a humanoid suit, which at least gave her the semblance of humanity (or, more correctly, allowed those around her to at least perceive her as something human), she was currently floating in her smallest form among the camp. No one could possibly even notice her. And that was what she wanted. To be left alone. She was just an invisible speck of floating energy, and no one could bother her. Here, she could pretend she didn’t exist, for at least a few minutes.
When Voletta looked down, she noticed MAULER, out of his armor, and Sandstorm, his dark ebony skin seemingly absorbing the sunlight around him, whispering in the deepest part of the woods. Voletta floated down toward them, her curiosity getting the better of her, and allowing her to set her self-pity aside for now.
“Well, laddie, we may have been separated into separate tribes, but we both made it tae the merge. Now how do we best put our plan into place?” MAULER was saying.
Sandstorm looked more menacing than Voletta had ever seen him. It was a bit jarring to see the hatred in his face as he spoke. “This is a long term plan, Brendan, and it’s something we’ll have to adapt to as we go. We make the best decision for us day by day, but we do whatever it takes to get us to the end. You, so you can claim victory and make your kid proud. Me, so I can see the Initiative pay once and for all for trying to make weapons out of human beings.”
MAULER clicked his tongue. “So where do we start? If we’re goin’ fer the weakest link, we have to push Biohazard. He’s practically unstable anyway.”
Sandstorm smiled now. “Yes, Biohazard ought to do just fine. But I’m betting he’ll make a target of himself. We need to be prepared to whittle our way in from the fringes.”
And as Voletta watched the men walk their separate ways, she wondered what that had been all about, and what terrible fate they were planning for that poor boy.
“I wanted to give you both equal opportunity. I don’t really care about the results of this competition. I’m here to be a hero, and because I was sick of being in jail, but I want us all to have that chance to succeed here. I don’t want anyone to have to be pushed out because they didn’t fit in well, and that definitely applies to the two of you more than any others.”
Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, flexed his arms over his head as he talked to Nocturne and Biohazard. Nocturne always seemed a bit skittish and frightened, but today she had an aura of calm around her. Lemar could feel the calm radiating off of her, washing over him and putting his nerves and worries aside. It was clear to him that the same calm effect was working on Biohazard, too. He’d never seen that kid so relaxed.
“Y-you can’t tell me what to do,” Biohazard was stammering. “Just cause you’re older and w-worked for the government, you can’t boss the tribe around.”
Lemar sighed. “I’m offering a white flag here, Fletcher. I’d like to have peace between us.”
As Biohazard reacted angrily, Lemar noticed Nocturne sit up a bit straighter, seeming to focus her powers a bit more sharply. “Peace? You want p-peace? You, the leader of the men’s tribe, allowed me to b-be kicked out of camp by a bully! I ain’t forgetting that, Lemar!” As Lemar watched, Biohazard’s flesh started to roll just a bit, like it did when he was losing control of his powers, but then he settled down into relaxation again. Nocturne’s powers were incredible. Much more complicated than his own super strength and endurance.
“Again, I’m ready to have peace between us. I made a bad call back then, and I would like to make amends.”
Biohazard sneered at him and rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to listen to this,” he muttered as he stormed off. Lemar wondered if the kid even noticed that Nocturne had stopped him from losing control this time.
When Biohazard was out of sight, Lemar smiled at Nocturne. “Thank you for keeping him under control. You were wonderful.” Battle Star laughed out loud when he saw Nocturne grin slightly. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Lemar. What is your name?”
Nocturne’s eyes grew wide and then she closed them tightly as she figured something out within herself. Finally, she opened them again and the smile returned. She spoke softly, in a rather melodic trill. “Angela.”
As Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, watched, Derwyddon, his robe heavy and baggy on his ancient form, spread his hands in front of him and the air seemed to solidify. It didn’t give off a particularly different color. It just didn’t… move as the rest of the air did. Samantha wouldn’t ever notice air moving, she supposed, but seeing the air not moving somehow made a difference.
“There. Now try it.” Derwyddon wasn’t smiling, but he was definitely smug, as he stepped away from his block of solidified air. Samantha definitely believed in magic. It was the magic of the Asgardian Enchantress that had first granted her super powers, and the magic’s of Pluto and Lorelei which had combined her into this form. Besides, she’d worked with Dr. Strange extensively, back when he’d been the Sorcerer Supreme and had been working with the Defenders. But Derwyddon somehow lacked that quality she’d come to expect from magic wielders. So she’d asked him to prove his powers. She wanted to see him in action, and to test his mettle as an opponent or as an ally.
With a fluid movement, Samantha unsheathed her sword, pushing away the unpleasant memory of a few days before when she’d unwillingly transformed into her human self. Samantha’s sword was a magic relic in itself. Not only did it carry the enchantment that allowed her to switch to her godly form (and into normal clothes, negating her need to wash as well), it was indestructible and could cut through most anything. Samantha gave the sword a mighty thrust and watched with disbelief as the sword slid off the edge of the solid air block, making a loud metallic sound, rather like a butter knife scraping granite.
“Unbelievable!” Samantha found herself smiling. “I never would have believed that solid air could be more impervious than my enchanted blade.” Derwyddon was smiling, too. When the voice came from above them, they both looked up in shock.
“Let’s see if a real weapon can hurt it!” Steel Spider was holding himself tightly to a tree far above them. He had his four metallic legs spreading outward from him and Samantha could hear the click of offensive weaponry coming into play. She and Derwyddon both stepped quickly to the side as series of laser bursts escaped the tips of Steel Spider’s legs and blasted against the block of solid air, shattering it in a puff of smoke. Samantha and Derwyddon had been close enough to feel the heat off the blasts. “Ha-ha! Looks like science wins over sorcery this time, old man!”
Samantha forced herself to put her sword back in its sheath. She would not grant that child the true reaction he deserved; to be put over her knee and soundly spanked. She would let Derwyddon fight his own battles.
Day 21
The Immunity Challenge
As the nine assembled contestants stood before him, Jasper Sitwell explained that the immunity challenges from here forward in the game would be much more difficult, and that they would be challenging each contestant’s motivations and individual abilities to be a hero. Each of them would compete individually. Today’s challenge would cause each guest to experience one of their greatest fears, to relive a past trauma that was very difficult for them. After said exposure, each contestant would be expected to complete a challenging puzzle. The contestant with the fastest time would win individual immunity.
Jasper then announced that the upcoming challenges would feature various hosts, prepared by the Initiative to lead each challenge. Jasper introduced Trauma, young Terrence Ward, whose powers allowed him to see the greatest fear in a person’s mind, allowing him to then transform into that fear and confront the person with it. Jasper announced that the order of the contestants would be determined randomly.
Steel Spider sat before Trauma first, not knowing what to expect. His greatest fear. He figured it would be the day his old girlfriend, Jane Lane, had been shot and paralyzed. But Trauma surprised him, and made him face up to the very memory Steel Spider had been seeking to hide away from above all others. Before his eyes, Trauma transformed into the slobbering monster Venom. Steel Spider’s heart quickened and he felt cold panic seized him as the monster promised to eat not just his arm, but the rest of his limbs as well. Steel Spider didn’t know whether to fight the creature or run for it. As he stammered a weak-willed protest, he tried willing his metallic legs to raise behind him and fire offensive weaponry at the beast, but Steel Spider collapsed instead. He fainted dead away. It took the doctors over a minute to revive him. Steel Spider refused to even try the puzzle at that point, and opted out of the challenge, walking away from the cameras with hot tears in his eyes.
Valkyrie folded her arms under her breasts as she prepared to face her “greatest fear.” She laughed at the prospect. Her mortal self had many fears, but Valkyrie had none, and she felt safe and secure so long as she didn’t transform. When Trauma transformed into Malicia Parrington, the mother of Samantha, Valkyrie grew confused. Malicia was yelling at Samantha, telling her what a disgrace she was to her family and her heritage, wasting her talents, riches, and good-looks on inane habits and pursuits. When Malicia spouted promises that Samantha would waste away, poor and alone, Valkyrie felt herself growing angry rather than frightened. She told the apparition to silence itself, then strode to the challenge, completing it in just over five minutes.
Derwyddon thought he knew his greatest fear, one that he’d known intently at least twice before in his life, and that was the rejection of his gods, who had deemed him unworthy. So when Trauma took on the form of a much younger Derwyddon, floating in a dreamless sleep beneath the waves, where he’d remained for centuries, Derwyddon was not prepared for the intensity of the fear the gripped him. All those years, wasted! All his potential, washed away! Why had this happened to him, why? Derwyddon was too distracted by thoughts of th e shame his gods must have felt for him to even complete the immunity challenge, which he slowly walked away from.
Battle Star couldn’t recount any great fears from his past. He considered himself very brave, actually, facing down dangerous opponents and taking necessary risks without the slightest hesitation. So he was caught completely off-guard when he saw himself hanging from a noose from a tree by the militant Watchdogs. Battle Star panicked as he remembered that frightening day when, despite his super strength, he’d been strung up and left for dead, because of his race. He felt the shame and the fear of generations of African Americans before him, and felt almost ashamed that he’d lived while they had died. As this terrible vision wore off, Battle Star was shown into the challenge; he worked swiftly to focus his thoughts and was able to finish the challenge in eight minutes.
As Ion watched, Trauma took on the form of her human self, Dr. Voletta Todd, as she looked directly before her transformation. Then she watched as Trauma, as her, melted into her ionic form, as she had during the lab accident so many years ago now. Ion found herself merely bitter, and a bit angry, but not at all shocked or scared. She lived with her greatest fear every day; this was nothing new. But then, the worst came. Trauma, as Ion, began shifting rapidly between the two forms, erratic and painful to watch. As Ion watched, her other self cried out about how she would never return to human, it hurt too much, she would be trapped like this forever. When Ion finally entered the challenge, she found herself distracted by a bitter despair and took nearly ten minutes to complete it.
MAULER had had lots of moments in his life when he’d been afraid, but he didn’t remember one particular time when his fear had been the greatest. He watched Trauma with casual interest, transforming into a much younger Brendan Doyle, before the panicked memories washed over him. He’d been a soldier of fortune, paid handsomely to carry out various missions, including assassinations, on foreign soil. He’d worked closely with James Rhodes, the future War Machine, but this mission had left him stranded in the desert for weeks with no prospect of escape. He’d nearly died out there. MAULER, the image of his nearly dead self in his mind, focused on the difficult challenge and had it finished in 15 minutes.
As Trauma took on the form of a young Tony Trainer, Sandstorm remembered easily what had happened the day he’d received his powers. The mutated sandy specimens of Sandman and Quicksand had melded in the machine, which had then exploded. In that one instant, Sandstorm, who’d been only 19 at the time, had thought for sure he’d be dead. But he got lucky and was granted amazing super powers instead. That moment of intense fear had lasted only briefly and then been replaced by power. Quiet, simmering, resolute power. Sandstorm entered the challenge distracted not by an awakening of fear, but by an awakening of opportunity, of superiority, and he finished the challenge seven minutes later.
Nocturne had considered dropping out of the challenge before it even started, but the emotional medley within Trauma calmed her. He wasn’t there to harm, but to teach, and he seemed to truly believe that if he could help her face her fears, then she would benefit. Drawing upon his strength, she steeled herself as Trauma transformed into Nocturne’s one true love, Detective Jackie Kessler. She’d been Nocturne’s partner in the police and the two had later become lovers, but Jackie had been brutally murdered by the Mutilation Killer. Seizing the feelings of hope and ignoring the fear, Nocturne entered the challenge, but willingly dropped out, not wanting to focus past the images of her Jackie.
Biohazard knew what was coming before Trauma even stepped in front of him. He had relived that moment in his brain, the moment he’d changed into Biohazard for the first time, a hundred times over. But Trauma surprised him by turning into a human Fletcher Traynor now. As Biohazard watched, the Fletcher he saw before him strained against a straitjacket, eyes awash with green energy, mumbling about how he’d killed everyone, how his powers had gone out of control and he’d killed them all. Biohazard couldn’t face the fear and turned into his acidic monster self; as the government agents pulled Trauma to safety, Biohazard screamed in a rage about how he would kill them all.
As Nocturne used her powers, upon request, to calm Biohazard, Jasper brought the group back together and announced that Valkyrie had won immunity. He promised to see them that night.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
Biohazard was still in fits when they reached the tribal council area. With his flesh undulating between skin color and acid green, Jasper finally requested that his agents put a power blocker on the boy, denying him access to his powers at all. When the power blocker in place, Biohazard finally seemed to calm down, and weariness seeped over him as he sat next to his teammates.
Jasper waited until the nine contestants were settled, then he announced to the group that Number Nine had awakened from her coma that afternoon in full possession of her former memories. He let them know that she was receiving the best medical care, and then proceeded to ask them questions about the vote, reminding them that the next person to leave this game would be the first member of their jury, and would ultimately cast a vote for the game’s winner.
“MAULER, how has the game changed for the contestants since the merge?”
“Jasper, m’lad, ye’d think that the men would have the advantage here, bein’ as there’s six of us and only three of the lassies. But we have some dangerous opponents in our midst. I find meself wonderin’ how long before one of us comes unhinged and someone gets hurt! It’s painfully obvious that some contestants aren’t cut out to be heroes.”
Biohazard, his collar blocking his powers, sat up in a fury. “I s-suppose you’re talking about me! Well, be a man and say it to my face! You d-don’t even have any powers, M-MAULER!”
Ion, without turning her head, addressed Biohazard. “Fletcher, calm yourself. You’ll never learn control if you keep flying off the handle like this. Imagine what you’d be like if Nocturne wasn’t calming you.”
Jasper waited a few minutes for the fervor to die down, then returned to the questioning, but he was interrupted by Sandstorm.
“Mr. Sitwell, I have to second MAULER’s question of Biohazard’s presence in the game. If he requires a collar to block his powers, how will he even compete in the game, no less be of service to the Initiative in the long run?”
After another of Biohazard’s outbursts, Jasper stated that the contestant had not yet broken any rules, and that he would see Biohazard continue to undergo the necessary training to make him a hero. Then he transitioned the contestants into voting.
The first vote was for Biohazard. This was from Nocturne, who was weary of having to calm the youth, and have to experience his inner fury, and was voting along with her alliance.
The second vote was for Battle Star. This was from Biohazard, who wanted his revenge on Battle Star for not standing up for him in his early altercation with Brother Nature.
The third vote was for Battle Star. This was from Derwyddon, who saw Battle Star as least in need of his help, and of the least use to him in his personal agenda.
The fourth vote was for Biohazard. This was from the Steel Spider, who tired of the frequent outbursts and drama around camp.
The fifth vote was for Battle Star. This was from MAULER, who sought to remove his steepest competition from the game and had manipulated others, along with Sandstorm, into getting rid of him.
The sixth vote was for Biohazard. This was from Valkyrie, who saw the youth as least deserving of being a hero.
The seventh vote was for Battle Star. This was from Sandstorm, who sought to sow discord in the game by taking out the most natural hero among them.
The eighth vote was for Biohazard. This was from Battle Star, who longed to have peace in his camp again.
The ninth vote was for Biohazard. This was from Ion, who was voting along with her alliance, despite her empathy for Biohazard’s inability to control his powers.
With a narrow margin, Biohazard was voted from the game. As Jasper extinguished his torch, he expected another angry outburst from young Fletcher Traynor, but Biohazard simply hung his head sadly and walked from the camp without a word. As Jasper dismissed the players, he noticed the suspicious looks that Battle Star was passing to the others, and Jasper wondered, not for the first time, what this game would bring next.
After a week vacation, our show is back on, and we are down to half the contestants we once had! Lots of fun things are in the works, so make sure to get your votes in for who you want out next! You can post a vote by replying here, Emailing me, or sending me a message on facebook. Due to random selection, MAULER gets immunity next episode. Happy voting!
TEAM ROGERS
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Derwyddon
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle) (immunity)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thanksgiving delay
Haven't had time to post today due to the holiday. Will try to get things up this weekend!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Survivor: the Initiative Episode 6
SURVIVOR: the Initiative Episode 6
Blindside
Day 16
TEAM JOYCE
None of them were willing to do what it took. None of them. Oliver Osnick, Steel Spider, looked at his teammates, sleeping in their little shelter, all except Nocturne. Even Derwyddon was in there sleeping, after all the time he’d spent away from the men’s shelter, now he was suddenly hanging around this one. Ever since he got this new sense of purpose, Derwyddon had been different. It was like he didn’t understand Oliver anymore. Oliver didn’t know how to relate to him anymore, even though he’d been so close to him for a while there. He had thought that Derwyddon understood him, like Spider-Man did, like he once thought Dr. Octopus had.
Oliver remembered the psychiatrists talking to him about the conditions he had developed. Bipolar, generalized anxiety, and histrionic personality disorders. He remembered the shrink trying to explain to Oliver that he suffered from “a pervasive pattern of excessive emotionality and attention seeking”. They’d heavily medicated him and tried putting him in counseling. Oliver had faked his way through it, had gotten off the meds, and had gone out on his own. And as the Steel Spider, he’d actually done some good in the world, taking down all the criminals he’d gotten his hands on. Sure, he’d been a bit excessive, but how else would they learn their lessons? How else?
Oliver remembered the day the Thunderbolts had come after him, had taken his arm, and had thrown him in jail. After that, he’d sat in prison for months before he had decided to join up with the Initiative. At least he could do some good there, and he was sure he could find ways around the rules. He’d already started cheeking his meds, and he could feel his true self coming back day by day.
As Oliver turned away from the fire, he was shocked to see Nocturne standing there. Where had she come from? She had barely been at camp during his stay there the last few days. And he hadn’t heard her approach. Her voice had a strange throaty lilt when she spoke. “I feel your pain.”
Oliver scoffed. “I didn’t even know you could talk, lady, but mind your own business.”
Nocturne reached a hand forward and Oliver felt a wave of calm pass over him. Where had that come from? He hadn’t felt calm in months, not even on the meds. A fresh wave of panic washed over him at even experiencing the calm and he shouted at Nocturne. “No! What are you doing to me? No!”
Nocturne looked up in shock and surprise as his shouts woke the others in the camp. Nocturne turned and flew quickly away into the skies, and Oliver scampered off into the woods on his extended metal legs; he couldn’t face the others, not right now.
TEAM HAMMOND
“How’d you learn how to do it?” Biohazard looked up at Voletta Todd, Ion, with incredulity. She knew he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. Sometimes she couldn’t believe it herself.
“Trial and error. I’m a trained scientist. That’s the method we use for everything. You work at it until you figure it out.”
Biohazard frowned. “But I saw what that accident changed you into. A big ole pile of energy. How do you go from that back to human form?”
Voletta moved herself back inside her containment suit. It was easy to move the ionic energy that made up her substance, but putting herself into the containment suit at least helped her feel human. Well, a bit more human anyway. “It’s nearly impossible, Fletcher, I’ll be honest. I can only do it for a few seconds at a time, and with extreme stress and pressure to my brain and body, unless I have the aid of extreme cold.”
Biohazard blew out a gust of breath from his cheeks. “So let me get this straight. Some weird biological accident turned you into some sort of, what did you call it, sentient energy. And you can’t turn back into a human lady unless you nearly kill yourself by focusing on changing yourself. But even then, you can only stay human for a few seconds. Unless you are really cold. So why don’t you just live in the cold or something?”
Voletta lowered her head. “The human form can not exist long in cold. I would die were I to stay as cold as I need to. And I only maintain super powers in my energy form.”
Biohazard looked at Voletta with pity, and she did her best to ignore the humiliation. The scientist in her truly wanted to help this boy. “How old were you when the accident happened?”
“I was in my mid-30s.”
Biohazard smiled now. “When you are human, you are kind of a babe.” Then he sobered again. “I was still a teenager. I’m just barely 18 now, and I’ve lived the last few years in a government research facility, where they tried to help me over and over again. They can’t get rid of my Biohazard powers. But they can’t teach me how to control them either. It’s like I’m just stuck or something. Like my life path is already decided for me.”
Voletta looked at Biohazard, thinking things through. “Tell me everything you know about the accident that first changed you into Biohazard.”
“My dad, he was a bad guy. He got arrested by some young super heroes, the New Warriors. I was mad and I wanted revenge, so I went to my dad’s warehouse and I grabbed a high-tech gun, but it kind of blew up in my face, and that’s what changed me.”
“Where is this gun now?”
Biohazard sighed. “Destroyed. The whole lab was destroyed. Dr. Todd, I’ve—when I went crazy, people died. Because of me.”
Voletta grew annoyed. “I’m trying to help you, Fletcher, but I don’t want to hear about your guilts. You must learn to look forward from here. Now tell me everything you know about this gun, where it came from, and everything you learned at Project: PEGASUS when they studied you.”
Day 17
TEAM JOYCE
Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, tossed his triangular shield up into the air and caught it again. He loved this shield. Nothing like the famous shield of Captain America, of course. More like Cap’s original one, back in the early days of World War II. Lemar loved what this shield symbolized, what it reminded him of. The American Dream, as seen by Captain America himself. And wielded by Lemar Hoskins, a black man. He worked every day to do the shield proud.
Lemar had not always been so proud of himself. He’d been a high school dropout, an utter embarrassment to his family. He tried making it as a costumed wrestler, after he’d had his strength augmented at the risk of extreme physical deformities, and instead had turned to a life of crime. Somehow, fate had given him an extra chance, and he’d enrolled with the government as the Bucky to his buddy John Walker’s Captain America, during the time when Steve Rogers had retired. Lemar remembered how embarrassed he’d been to learn that a “buck” was a racist slur against blacks, and he’d quickly changed his name to Battle Star.
Lemar turned to see Derwyddon looking at him. “What brings you over here, old man?”
Derwyddon seemed to look past Lemar. “Tell me your true motivations, Battle Star. Why have you enrolled in the Initiative?”
Lemar couldn’t figure the old man out. He’d been a recluse, then a self-appointed leader, now he was suddenly, on day 17, asking about motivations? But Lemar had nothing to hide. “I’m here to be a hero. Plain and simple.”
Derwyddon’s eyes suddenly focused on Lemar. “The words you spoke to Free Spirit last night, before you voted her out, ring true for you as well. Not everyone shares your motivations and ideals.”
Lemar pulled his mask up over his face. “What about you, then? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to effect change from the ground up.”
Lemar snorted. “Oh yeah? And how you gonna do that?”
Derwyddon looked to the ground. “The gods haven’t told me that part yet.”
“What are your true motivations for entering the Initiative, Sandstorm?” Derwyddon looked at Sandstorm, who had been busy using his sandy form, his “grit armor” as Derwyddon had heard him call it, to bolster the fallen side of their new shelter. One side had caved in on them the night before during a heavy rainstorm and Sandstorm had volunteered to use his powers to fix it.
Sandstorm sounded annoyed. “What kind of question is that? You’ve been on my tribe for over two weeks now and you’ve barely spoken to me before.”
“I was just curious, that is all.”
Sandstorm stepped away from the shelter. “Just curious. Sure. Listen, Derwyddon, I have no reason to trust you, and no reason to give you personal information.”
Derwyddon nodded. “I think that is all I needed to know, then.”
Minutes later in the woods, Derwyddon crossed his legs beneath him, closed his eyes, and meditated. He tried to find that balance within himself. He’d been spending more time with the members of his tribe for the past few days, trying to ferret out the individual among them who had the skewed motivations. More than any of the others, there was one among them who did not belong. He now believed that individual to be Sandstorm. Now his challenge would be finding a way to use this knowledge for his own benefit.
TEAM HAMMOND
Fletcher Traynor, Biohazard, automatically grew annoyed when he saw Number Nine leaping on MAULER’s back in the lake. Water splashed around them and they dove under the water in an embrace, wetting Number Nine’s long blonde hair and MAULER’s thick orange beard. Valkyrie sat next to Fletcher, looking over at him. She laughed out loud when she saw the sneer on his face.
“Not a big fan of public displays of affection, then?”
“I just don’t get what she sees in him, I guess. Beautiful girl like that, and an ugly old dude like him.”
Valkyrie laughed again. “And you think she should be more interested in you?”
Fletcher felt an acidic tremor pass through him and he fought back the anger. “Well, sure, why not? She’s closer to my age, isn’t she?”
Valkyrie stopped teasing and suddenly looked very serious. “Number Nine is a complicated girl, Fletcher. She’s been programmed to be the way she is. Don’t fault her for doing what she was designed to do.”
Fletcher got up and walked away, not wanting to test his fate. As he moved into the woods, the acidic surge passed through him again and this time he gave in, allowing the monster to take over him once more. He felled a tree in his frustration, then devoured it with his form, reducing it to ash and debris before he felt better.
Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, looked at the man standing before her. There had been a time in her life where she would have refused to see a man as an equal simply because he was a man. After all, men had been keeping woman suppressed for centuries, shouldn’t females have a turn at the top? But she had a more mature mindset now. She knew that men weren’t her betters, but she didn’t have to think of herself as better than them either. She didn’t know how MAULER felt about things, so she’d try to reserve judgment.
MAULER stood there in his armor with the helmet removed. The helmet, which he held in one of his arms, could definitely use some redesigns in Valkyrie’s opinion, but she supposed MAULER’s unorthodox look put his foes at ease before he attacked them; it likely only helped him in his day job as a mercenary.
MAULER finally answered her question. “Yer right, lassie, it is probably wise ta talk things over before the tribal council.”
Samantha didn’t want any blindsides if they happened to lose immunity. Though there were three women to two men, she didn’t know where Number Nine’s loyalties lay anymore, so she’d asked MAULER to talk strategy with her. “Our vote against Gomi was simple; he was a weak competitor and he wanted to be gone regardless.”
MAULER looked thoughtful. “So what do ye recommend this time? Yer old tribe has the numbers.”
“Believe me or not, I’m basing this suggestion entirely on worth to the tribe at this point, though we can be sure we are planning on individual immunity competitions soon. The way I see it, Ion, you, and I are really pulling our weight in this tribe, and Number Nine is a close ally to both of us.”
MAULER smiled. “So ye think Biohazard ought ta be the next ta go, eh?”
Valkyrie nodded, a soft smile on her face, and wondered how much malice this man was hiding behind that grin. And she wondered if he knew how much malice lay behind hers.
DAY 18
IMMUNITY CHALLENGE
Jasper Sitwell gathered the two teams of five before him and had them stand on their tribal mats. He announced to the opposite teams that Gomi and Free Spirit had been voted out at the previous tribal council. No one seemed particularly surprised or concerned about these vote-offs.
Jasper announced that this would be the final team competition, and informed the others that the following day, after one more of them was voted out, that the two tribes would be merging into one. The tribes seemed confused that Jasper was announcing this in advance, but he enjoyed seeing their brains work as the contestants tried to process this new information.
Jasper explained the new immunity challenge. Each contestant would wear a Virtual Reality helmet, where their minds would be uploaded into an interactive training environment. There, in an environment that seemed entirely real, the teams, under the instruction of their appointed leaders, would have to rescue as many civilians as they could in under five minutes from a complex burning building. There were fifteen V-R civilians in each V-R building, and if both teams rescued all 15, then the team to do it the fastest would win immunity. At Jasper’s command, the two teams put on their helmets and, after a bit more instruction, the challenge began.
For Team Hammond, Valkyrie started calling the shots. Though she could find absolutely nothing for Biohazard to do with his acidic powers, to either combat the flames or to help civilians, Valkyrie quickly orchestrated the others into a somewhat effective combat unit. Ion used her ionic fields to lift civilians to safety without getting burned; Number Nine darted through the flames, impervious to injury, to find the wounded, and MAULER and Valkyrie focused on keeping the structure upright and putting the fire out. At the end of the five minutes, 11 civilians had been saved.
For Team Joyce, Battle Star claimed command of the team again and immediately instructed Derwyddon to ask the flames to extinguish. Derwyddon did so, and the flames went out in a flash, leaving only hot wood and smoke remains to deal with. With Sandstorm providing support from any wreckages, Steel Spider (on his metal legs), Nocturne (with her wings), and Battle Star (using his super strength) evacuated all 15 civilians in four minutes.
Jasper declared Team Joyce the winners, and instructed Team Hammond to meet him at tribal council that night.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
Biohazard, MAULER, Ion, Number Nine, and Valkyrie took their seats in front of Jasper at the Tribal Council fire that evening, and Jasper immediately jumped into questioning them.
“Ion, how have things been going at your new camp over the past three days?”
Ion answered, without hesitation, in her wispy of a voice. “It has been nice to form new relationships, and to get to know our male competitors. This game has a way of keeping us all on our toes. Well, those of us who have toes.”
Jasper felt a chill. Had Ion just cracked a joke? “Number Nine, your team performed rather poorly in today’s challenge, leaving four civilians ‘dead’ within the five minute time frame.”
Number Nine’s eyes brimmed with tears. “We did our best! We sacrificed life and limb to try to help those poor pretend people, especially my brave and strong MAULER in his powerful suit!” She smiled up at MAULER and Jasper watched Valkyrie roll her eyes in disgust even as MAULER’s cheeks turned a bit pink.
“Biohazard, how does a tribe like this, moving into the merge tomorrow, decide who to vote out?”
Biohazard looked forward, struggling not to betray his own vote. “We just have to do what is best for each of us now. We aren’t a tribe anymore after tonight, so we have to vote the way that suits us best. Someone will be surprised tonight.” Jasper saw MAULER look at Biohazard and narrow his eyes.
“Let’s get to the votes.”
The first vote was for Biohazard. This was from MAULER, who was getting rid of the weakest link on the team and voting along with the rest of his tribe.
The second vote was for Biohazard. This was from Number Nine, who was voting as MAULER expected her to, and Valkyrie, too, she guessed.
The third vote was for Number Nine. This vote was from Valkyrie, who, learning she was moving into the merge, decided to get rid of her least trustworthy ally, worried that Number Nine would flip over to the boys as soon as the merge took place.
The fourth vote was for Number Nine. This vote was from Ion, who had been annoyed for days by Number Nine, and was voting along with Valkyrie and agreed with the threat Number Nine posed.
The fifth vote was for Number Nine. This was from Biohazard, who was clued in to the vote by Valkyrie, and who wanted Number Nine gone for being stupid enough to flirt with MAULER.
As Jasper read the votes, he noted that this was the first real blindside of the game thus far. MAULER looked appalled as Jasper announced Number Nine would be leaving the game, and Number Nine herself broke down in hysterical sobs. She refused to get up from the bench, crying about how this couldn’t be and couldn’t they just let her stay for a while longer, that she’d be better, that she’d work harder and make everyone happy. Jasper finally extinguished her torch, but still she wouldn’t leave. Valkyrie and MAULER tried convincing Number Nine to get up, but she finally, after several minutes of crying heavily, fell forward and began convulsing in a seizure. Number Nine was removed from the game by medical professionals while her worried former teammates looked on.
Thank you for your participation in this series! Big things to come! I know I keep saying that, but you’ll finally start to see what I mean next episode. We move into individual competitions starting in Episode 7. And immunity challenges get brutally hard. Each episode from here forward will have a guest star coming in who will be challenging our remaining contestants and pushing them to the edge of their limits. If these characters are going to be heroes, they have a lot to learn about themselves yet! Keep in mind that all characters voted out from here forward will become members of our jury. Lots of subplots are brewing, and lots of conflicts are heating up! Also, note that only three girls remain out of nine contestants!
Due to random determination, Valkyrie gets immunity next episode, so you can vote out anyone else. This last vote was the closest one yet; almost everyone received votes, and it was a really close match between three contestants, with Number Nine only losing, in the end, by one vote. Make sure to vote to keep your favorites in!
The remaining contestants:
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Biohazard (Fletcher Traynor)
Derwyddon
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)—immunity
Blindside
Day 16
TEAM JOYCE
None of them were willing to do what it took. None of them. Oliver Osnick, Steel Spider, looked at his teammates, sleeping in their little shelter, all except Nocturne. Even Derwyddon was in there sleeping, after all the time he’d spent away from the men’s shelter, now he was suddenly hanging around this one. Ever since he got this new sense of purpose, Derwyddon had been different. It was like he didn’t understand Oliver anymore. Oliver didn’t know how to relate to him anymore, even though he’d been so close to him for a while there. He had thought that Derwyddon understood him, like Spider-Man did, like he once thought Dr. Octopus had.
Oliver remembered the psychiatrists talking to him about the conditions he had developed. Bipolar, generalized anxiety, and histrionic personality disorders. He remembered the shrink trying to explain to Oliver that he suffered from “a pervasive pattern of excessive emotionality and attention seeking”. They’d heavily medicated him and tried putting him in counseling. Oliver had faked his way through it, had gotten off the meds, and had gone out on his own. And as the Steel Spider, he’d actually done some good in the world, taking down all the criminals he’d gotten his hands on. Sure, he’d been a bit excessive, but how else would they learn their lessons? How else?
Oliver remembered the day the Thunderbolts had come after him, had taken his arm, and had thrown him in jail. After that, he’d sat in prison for months before he had decided to join up with the Initiative. At least he could do some good there, and he was sure he could find ways around the rules. He’d already started cheeking his meds, and he could feel his true self coming back day by day.
As Oliver turned away from the fire, he was shocked to see Nocturne standing there. Where had she come from? She had barely been at camp during his stay there the last few days. And he hadn’t heard her approach. Her voice had a strange throaty lilt when she spoke. “I feel your pain.”
Oliver scoffed. “I didn’t even know you could talk, lady, but mind your own business.”
Nocturne reached a hand forward and Oliver felt a wave of calm pass over him. Where had that come from? He hadn’t felt calm in months, not even on the meds. A fresh wave of panic washed over him at even experiencing the calm and he shouted at Nocturne. “No! What are you doing to me? No!”
Nocturne looked up in shock and surprise as his shouts woke the others in the camp. Nocturne turned and flew quickly away into the skies, and Oliver scampered off into the woods on his extended metal legs; he couldn’t face the others, not right now.
TEAM HAMMOND
“How’d you learn how to do it?” Biohazard looked up at Voletta Todd, Ion, with incredulity. She knew he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. Sometimes she couldn’t believe it herself.
“Trial and error. I’m a trained scientist. That’s the method we use for everything. You work at it until you figure it out.”
Biohazard frowned. “But I saw what that accident changed you into. A big ole pile of energy. How do you go from that back to human form?”
Voletta moved herself back inside her containment suit. It was easy to move the ionic energy that made up her substance, but putting herself into the containment suit at least helped her feel human. Well, a bit more human anyway. “It’s nearly impossible, Fletcher, I’ll be honest. I can only do it for a few seconds at a time, and with extreme stress and pressure to my brain and body, unless I have the aid of extreme cold.”
Biohazard blew out a gust of breath from his cheeks. “So let me get this straight. Some weird biological accident turned you into some sort of, what did you call it, sentient energy. And you can’t turn back into a human lady unless you nearly kill yourself by focusing on changing yourself. But even then, you can only stay human for a few seconds. Unless you are really cold. So why don’t you just live in the cold or something?”
Voletta lowered her head. “The human form can not exist long in cold. I would die were I to stay as cold as I need to. And I only maintain super powers in my energy form.”
Biohazard looked at Voletta with pity, and she did her best to ignore the humiliation. The scientist in her truly wanted to help this boy. “How old were you when the accident happened?”
“I was in my mid-30s.”
Biohazard smiled now. “When you are human, you are kind of a babe.” Then he sobered again. “I was still a teenager. I’m just barely 18 now, and I’ve lived the last few years in a government research facility, where they tried to help me over and over again. They can’t get rid of my Biohazard powers. But they can’t teach me how to control them either. It’s like I’m just stuck or something. Like my life path is already decided for me.”
Voletta looked at Biohazard, thinking things through. “Tell me everything you know about the accident that first changed you into Biohazard.”
“My dad, he was a bad guy. He got arrested by some young super heroes, the New Warriors. I was mad and I wanted revenge, so I went to my dad’s warehouse and I grabbed a high-tech gun, but it kind of blew up in my face, and that’s what changed me.”
“Where is this gun now?”
Biohazard sighed. “Destroyed. The whole lab was destroyed. Dr. Todd, I’ve—when I went crazy, people died. Because of me.”
Voletta grew annoyed. “I’m trying to help you, Fletcher, but I don’t want to hear about your guilts. You must learn to look forward from here. Now tell me everything you know about this gun, where it came from, and everything you learned at Project: PEGASUS when they studied you.”
Day 17
TEAM JOYCE
Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, tossed his triangular shield up into the air and caught it again. He loved this shield. Nothing like the famous shield of Captain America, of course. More like Cap’s original one, back in the early days of World War II. Lemar loved what this shield symbolized, what it reminded him of. The American Dream, as seen by Captain America himself. And wielded by Lemar Hoskins, a black man. He worked every day to do the shield proud.
Lemar had not always been so proud of himself. He’d been a high school dropout, an utter embarrassment to his family. He tried making it as a costumed wrestler, after he’d had his strength augmented at the risk of extreme physical deformities, and instead had turned to a life of crime. Somehow, fate had given him an extra chance, and he’d enrolled with the government as the Bucky to his buddy John Walker’s Captain America, during the time when Steve Rogers had retired. Lemar remembered how embarrassed he’d been to learn that a “buck” was a racist slur against blacks, and he’d quickly changed his name to Battle Star.
Lemar turned to see Derwyddon looking at him. “What brings you over here, old man?”
Derwyddon seemed to look past Lemar. “Tell me your true motivations, Battle Star. Why have you enrolled in the Initiative?”
Lemar couldn’t figure the old man out. He’d been a recluse, then a self-appointed leader, now he was suddenly, on day 17, asking about motivations? But Lemar had nothing to hide. “I’m here to be a hero. Plain and simple.”
Derwyddon’s eyes suddenly focused on Lemar. “The words you spoke to Free Spirit last night, before you voted her out, ring true for you as well. Not everyone shares your motivations and ideals.”
Lemar pulled his mask up over his face. “What about you, then? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to effect change from the ground up.”
Lemar snorted. “Oh yeah? And how you gonna do that?”
Derwyddon looked to the ground. “The gods haven’t told me that part yet.”
“What are your true motivations for entering the Initiative, Sandstorm?” Derwyddon looked at Sandstorm, who had been busy using his sandy form, his “grit armor” as Derwyddon had heard him call it, to bolster the fallen side of their new shelter. One side had caved in on them the night before during a heavy rainstorm and Sandstorm had volunteered to use his powers to fix it.
Sandstorm sounded annoyed. “What kind of question is that? You’ve been on my tribe for over two weeks now and you’ve barely spoken to me before.”
“I was just curious, that is all.”
Sandstorm stepped away from the shelter. “Just curious. Sure. Listen, Derwyddon, I have no reason to trust you, and no reason to give you personal information.”
Derwyddon nodded. “I think that is all I needed to know, then.”
Minutes later in the woods, Derwyddon crossed his legs beneath him, closed his eyes, and meditated. He tried to find that balance within himself. He’d been spending more time with the members of his tribe for the past few days, trying to ferret out the individual among them who had the skewed motivations. More than any of the others, there was one among them who did not belong. He now believed that individual to be Sandstorm. Now his challenge would be finding a way to use this knowledge for his own benefit.
TEAM HAMMOND
Fletcher Traynor, Biohazard, automatically grew annoyed when he saw Number Nine leaping on MAULER’s back in the lake. Water splashed around them and they dove under the water in an embrace, wetting Number Nine’s long blonde hair and MAULER’s thick orange beard. Valkyrie sat next to Fletcher, looking over at him. She laughed out loud when she saw the sneer on his face.
“Not a big fan of public displays of affection, then?”
“I just don’t get what she sees in him, I guess. Beautiful girl like that, and an ugly old dude like him.”
Valkyrie laughed again. “And you think she should be more interested in you?”
Fletcher felt an acidic tremor pass through him and he fought back the anger. “Well, sure, why not? She’s closer to my age, isn’t she?”
Valkyrie stopped teasing and suddenly looked very serious. “Number Nine is a complicated girl, Fletcher. She’s been programmed to be the way she is. Don’t fault her for doing what she was designed to do.”
Fletcher got up and walked away, not wanting to test his fate. As he moved into the woods, the acidic surge passed through him again and this time he gave in, allowing the monster to take over him once more. He felled a tree in his frustration, then devoured it with his form, reducing it to ash and debris before he felt better.
Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, looked at the man standing before her. There had been a time in her life where she would have refused to see a man as an equal simply because he was a man. After all, men had been keeping woman suppressed for centuries, shouldn’t females have a turn at the top? But she had a more mature mindset now. She knew that men weren’t her betters, but she didn’t have to think of herself as better than them either. She didn’t know how MAULER felt about things, so she’d try to reserve judgment.
MAULER stood there in his armor with the helmet removed. The helmet, which he held in one of his arms, could definitely use some redesigns in Valkyrie’s opinion, but she supposed MAULER’s unorthodox look put his foes at ease before he attacked them; it likely only helped him in his day job as a mercenary.
MAULER finally answered her question. “Yer right, lassie, it is probably wise ta talk things over before the tribal council.”
Samantha didn’t want any blindsides if they happened to lose immunity. Though there were three women to two men, she didn’t know where Number Nine’s loyalties lay anymore, so she’d asked MAULER to talk strategy with her. “Our vote against Gomi was simple; he was a weak competitor and he wanted to be gone regardless.”
MAULER looked thoughtful. “So what do ye recommend this time? Yer old tribe has the numbers.”
“Believe me or not, I’m basing this suggestion entirely on worth to the tribe at this point, though we can be sure we are planning on individual immunity competitions soon. The way I see it, Ion, you, and I are really pulling our weight in this tribe, and Number Nine is a close ally to both of us.”
MAULER smiled. “So ye think Biohazard ought ta be the next ta go, eh?”
Valkyrie nodded, a soft smile on her face, and wondered how much malice this man was hiding behind that grin. And she wondered if he knew how much malice lay behind hers.
DAY 18
IMMUNITY CHALLENGE
Jasper Sitwell gathered the two teams of five before him and had them stand on their tribal mats. He announced to the opposite teams that Gomi and Free Spirit had been voted out at the previous tribal council. No one seemed particularly surprised or concerned about these vote-offs.
Jasper announced that this would be the final team competition, and informed the others that the following day, after one more of them was voted out, that the two tribes would be merging into one. The tribes seemed confused that Jasper was announcing this in advance, but he enjoyed seeing their brains work as the contestants tried to process this new information.
Jasper explained the new immunity challenge. Each contestant would wear a Virtual Reality helmet, where their minds would be uploaded into an interactive training environment. There, in an environment that seemed entirely real, the teams, under the instruction of their appointed leaders, would have to rescue as many civilians as they could in under five minutes from a complex burning building. There were fifteen V-R civilians in each V-R building, and if both teams rescued all 15, then the team to do it the fastest would win immunity. At Jasper’s command, the two teams put on their helmets and, after a bit more instruction, the challenge began.
For Team Hammond, Valkyrie started calling the shots. Though she could find absolutely nothing for Biohazard to do with his acidic powers, to either combat the flames or to help civilians, Valkyrie quickly orchestrated the others into a somewhat effective combat unit. Ion used her ionic fields to lift civilians to safety without getting burned; Number Nine darted through the flames, impervious to injury, to find the wounded, and MAULER and Valkyrie focused on keeping the structure upright and putting the fire out. At the end of the five minutes, 11 civilians had been saved.
For Team Joyce, Battle Star claimed command of the team again and immediately instructed Derwyddon to ask the flames to extinguish. Derwyddon did so, and the flames went out in a flash, leaving only hot wood and smoke remains to deal with. With Sandstorm providing support from any wreckages, Steel Spider (on his metal legs), Nocturne (with her wings), and Battle Star (using his super strength) evacuated all 15 civilians in four minutes.
Jasper declared Team Joyce the winners, and instructed Team Hammond to meet him at tribal council that night.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
Biohazard, MAULER, Ion, Number Nine, and Valkyrie took their seats in front of Jasper at the Tribal Council fire that evening, and Jasper immediately jumped into questioning them.
“Ion, how have things been going at your new camp over the past three days?”
Ion answered, without hesitation, in her wispy of a voice. “It has been nice to form new relationships, and to get to know our male competitors. This game has a way of keeping us all on our toes. Well, those of us who have toes.”
Jasper felt a chill. Had Ion just cracked a joke? “Number Nine, your team performed rather poorly in today’s challenge, leaving four civilians ‘dead’ within the five minute time frame.”
Number Nine’s eyes brimmed with tears. “We did our best! We sacrificed life and limb to try to help those poor pretend people, especially my brave and strong MAULER in his powerful suit!” She smiled up at MAULER and Jasper watched Valkyrie roll her eyes in disgust even as MAULER’s cheeks turned a bit pink.
“Biohazard, how does a tribe like this, moving into the merge tomorrow, decide who to vote out?”
Biohazard looked forward, struggling not to betray his own vote. “We just have to do what is best for each of us now. We aren’t a tribe anymore after tonight, so we have to vote the way that suits us best. Someone will be surprised tonight.” Jasper saw MAULER look at Biohazard and narrow his eyes.
“Let’s get to the votes.”
The first vote was for Biohazard. This was from MAULER, who was getting rid of the weakest link on the team and voting along with the rest of his tribe.
The second vote was for Biohazard. This was from Number Nine, who was voting as MAULER expected her to, and Valkyrie, too, she guessed.
The third vote was for Number Nine. This vote was from Valkyrie, who, learning she was moving into the merge, decided to get rid of her least trustworthy ally, worried that Number Nine would flip over to the boys as soon as the merge took place.
The fourth vote was for Number Nine. This vote was from Ion, who had been annoyed for days by Number Nine, and was voting along with Valkyrie and agreed with the threat Number Nine posed.
The fifth vote was for Number Nine. This was from Biohazard, who was clued in to the vote by Valkyrie, and who wanted Number Nine gone for being stupid enough to flirt with MAULER.
As Jasper read the votes, he noted that this was the first real blindside of the game thus far. MAULER looked appalled as Jasper announced Number Nine would be leaving the game, and Number Nine herself broke down in hysterical sobs. She refused to get up from the bench, crying about how this couldn’t be and couldn’t they just let her stay for a while longer, that she’d be better, that she’d work harder and make everyone happy. Jasper finally extinguished her torch, but still she wouldn’t leave. Valkyrie and MAULER tried convincing Number Nine to get up, but she finally, after several minutes of crying heavily, fell forward and began convulsing in a seizure. Number Nine was removed from the game by medical professionals while her worried former teammates looked on.
Thank you for your participation in this series! Big things to come! I know I keep saying that, but you’ll finally start to see what I mean next episode. We move into individual competitions starting in Episode 7. And immunity challenges get brutally hard. Each episode from here forward will have a guest star coming in who will be challenging our remaining contestants and pushing them to the edge of their limits. If these characters are going to be heroes, they have a lot to learn about themselves yet! Keep in mind that all characters voted out from here forward will become members of our jury. Lots of subplots are brewing, and lots of conflicts are heating up! Also, note that only three girls remain out of nine contestants!
Due to random determination, Valkyrie gets immunity next episode, so you can vote out anyone else. This last vote was the closest one yet; almost everyone received votes, and it was a really close match between three contestants, with Number Nine only losing, in the end, by one vote. Make sure to vote to keep your favorites in!
The remaining contestants:
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Biohazard (Fletcher Traynor)
Derwyddon
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)—immunity
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Episode 5
SURVIVOR: THE INITIATIVE episode 5
Breakdown
DAY 13
TEAM HAMMOND
When Tony Trainer was ten years old, growing up in dangerous Camden, New Jersey, he had had two close friends killed by a kid at school. A white kid with a gun that left two black kids dead. And when the chips fell, it was discovered that a teacher had brought the gun into the school in the first place. A teacher!
While in college, which Tony had risen above all odds to attend, Tony had become a research assistant, working long hours for no pay on various science projects alongside tenured professors. It was a dream until Project Sandstorm happened. An outside agency contracted with the school to weaponize the biologic sand specimens of two super-villains, Sandman and Quicksand, both of whom had been mutated into sand-beings. Things inevitably went wrong, as they are apt to do, and Tony was mutated into another sand being. Calling himself Sandstorm, he’d gone on a rampage and killed one of the professors before Spider-Man stopped him. Tony had learned how to control his new powers, and he’d, of course, claimed that the professor’s death was only an accident. And thus, Tony had formed his mission in life; destroying and defaming government programs and authority figures who sought to create weapons. And what better place to do that than the Initiative, the entire United States government seeking to weaponize every hero out there? Of course, he’d been keeping his true motivations for joining up to himself.
“D’ye think it’ll work, laddie?”
Tony smiled and looked up at his new and unexpected ally, MAULER. Tony had tied himself to Battle Star early in the game. When Battle Star had figured that Tony was black, because of the dark ebony skin the sand mutation had given him, Tony hadn’t dissuaded him, even though he was Caucasian. They’d had an easy, comfortable friendship; just the sort Tony needed to survive in this game. He knew his best route to victory in this game was to fight hard in the challenges and stay under the radar. He’d make it to his ultimate goals better that way. But this alliance, this plan? Perfection.
“Yeah, Brendan, I think our plan will work just fine.”
“Biiiiiiiiill!”
As Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, watched from his vantage point in the woods, where he’d been exercising, Gomi, that skinny, scrawny white kid, was standing on the shore of the lake that bordered their camp. Gomi was wearing a white tank top and a pair of boxers covered in smiley faces, his thick glasses on his nose. Lemar bet the kid didn’t weigh more than a buck-twenty. How could such a featherweight have ever been drafted into the Initiative, into a super-hero military? So he could talk to a super-strong lobster and fire off blasts from his brain. If the boy couldn’t run, climb a fence, or throw a ball, how was he ever going to survive against the threats he would face in the defense of his country? Lemar pictured Gomi trying to face his old foes in the Watchdogs, in ULTIMATUM, or in the Genesis Coalition. Gomi would be torn to shreds!
Lemar continued watching quietly as Gomi fell on his knees in the muddy sand, took off his glasses, buried his head in his hands, and begin sobbing. As Gomi’s loud wailings echoed over the lake, Lemar stopped himself from going to comfort the young man. Just as he’d stopped himself from standing up to Brother Nature on the behalf of Biohazard. These kids were young and vulnerable, true, but they were out of their element here. Coddling them would not make them into better super heroes or soldiers. They, like him, had chosen to be here, and they had to face up to the difficult stuff just like he had.
Suddenly, Gomi was shouting. “Bill! It’s been a few days since you spoke to me! For the last few years, you’ve been my only friend. No one else likes me or understands me. They think I’m a freak or a nerd or whatever else. I don’t fit in anywhere! Bill, I can’t do this by myself! Please come up here and talk to me!”
Lemar walked away, leaving the kid to his sobbing.
TEAM JOYCE
“What did you mean, a few days ago, when you told me I’m not trying hard enough? How can I be expected to fight against my own nature, my own brain?”
Valkyrie slashed her sword at the air callously, seemingly not even listening to Number Nine. “Nine, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That’s it. I haven’t given you a thought since then, honestly.”
Number Nine felt the tears start to flow down her cheeks. “Haven’t given me thought? That’s all I have: my thoughts! Who am I, where have I come from? How did I end up in the hands of Skip Ash for the reprogramming? Do I have a family? Are they worried about me? Why can’t I remember?”
When Valkyrie simply continued her sword thrusts at an imaginary opponent, and didn’t answer, Number Nine felt hot fury flood through her. She leapt at Valkyrie, intending to make the woman listen to her! She barely noticed when Valkyrie’s sword bit into her shoulder, straight into the bone. The anger flooded out of her as the she fell against the ground, blood trickling down from the deep wound in her arm, though she was incapable of feeling the pain.
Valkyrie threw her sword aside and rushed to Number Nine in concern. On her knees in a panic, she examined the wound closely. “Nine! I’m so sorry! I just turned, and you were there, and the sword--! I didn’t know you were there!”
Number Nine suddenly found herself laughing, filled with joy, even as the wound began naturally healing on her arm, part of her new genetic makeup. She’d be completely healed in seconds. “Valkyrie, it doesn’t matter! Don’t you see? Ha-ha! I got angry! For the first time ever, I felt anger!”
Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, leaned down into the water and began washing the blood off her sword. Of all the ridiculous, amateur mistakes! She was furious with herself! How had she allowed herself to slash a teammate, a friend, with her sword? She breathed in deeply. No, it wasn’t her fault. She had been practicing with her sword and Number Nine had entered that space without announcement. Then again, could Samantha blame her? Number Nine wasn’t a trained swordswoman like she was. Samantha had chosen to challenge her teammates regarding their own heroic development, and she had to be prepared to accept the consequences of her challenges.
Samantha raised her newly clean blade out in front of her. She felt all the old doubts welling up inside her uncomfortably. Once she had simply been Samantha Parrington, a wealthy socialite with over-indulgent parents, trying to find herself by committing to various causes, such as feminism, radicalism, and the pro-choice movement. But she’d always had a confused self-concept, and she’d always known it. When she’d been changed into the Valkyrie, she was fully aware that she’d been able to repress her confused self and had given herself over to the strong warrior woman who had no room for self-doubt in her existence. She liked to think that she had more balance now, but she knew deep down that the Valkyrie side of her was still firmly in control.
After drying her sword, Samantha sheathed the weapon and, with sudden shock, found herself transformed back into her mortal self, the frail form of Samantha Parrington. Her reflection in the water showed a slight, blonde woman in blue jeans and a snug, white blouse. Compared to her Valkyrie-self, she was timid, shorter, less… sturdy. How had this happened? She knew the magic of her blade was still intact, but only if she willed the transformation, and she hadn’t transformed into her mortal self in over six months!
With a shudder, Samantha drew the sword again and changed back to the Valkyrie. The beautiful, strong, powerful Valkyrie. She thanked the gods again for the magic that allowed her to turn into this amazing heroine.
DAY 14
Jasper Sitwell was excited. Things were about to change, and his favorite parts of the game were coming up. He had some amazing things planned for these contestants, things no one would ever see coming. The longer they stayed in the competition, the better they would know themselves, the more challenged they would be, and the better the hero they would ultimately become.
Jasper left the small trailer he was living in while the competition was ongoing here in Symkaria. There were other trailers all around him for the cameramen, challenge designers, medical staff, etc. Not a bad crew, all said. Jasper was constantly having to address situations from the game. Just yesterday, in fact, a contestant had been wounded by a sword. But he’d investigated and found that there had been no malice intended and no sustained injury. Another potential crisis averted in a game that seemed to be full of crises.
That evening, Jasper stood before the seven members of Team Hammond and the five members of Team Joyce, and turned their worlds upside down. With an excited tremor in his voice, Jasper had announced that the two tribes were about to be reshuffled. He’d instructed the twelve contestants to stand on a separate ceramic tile, then had them turn the tile over. Those on red squares would be the new Team Joyce; those on yellow would be the new Team Hammond.
Jasper watched the two new groups form with varying reactions. On the Team Joyce side, Battle Star and Sandstorm stood close together, eyeing the others. Derwyddon, his hands folded, with Steel Spider standing at his flank looking imposing. Nocturne, a calm fear across her face, flitted nearby, looking at Free Spirit, whose expression was unreadable. And on Team Hammond’s side, Valkyrie, arms folded, was staring down her new teammates, Gomi and Biohazard, who looked incredibly uncomfortable at being scrutinized in such a way. MAULER was looking at Number Nine with a tight grin, and she was lapping up the attention, while Ion, face as unreadable as ever, floated above the group.
Jasper informed them that Team Hammond would return to the Hammond camp, with Team Joyce returning to the Joyce camp. He then informed them that there would be no immunity challenge the following day, and that both new teams would be joining him at separate tribal councils, and that two people would be voted out. As the teams walked back to their camps, Jasper watched, an eager anticipation in his stomach for this next phase in the game.
DAY 15
TEAM HAMMOND
Brendan Doyle, MAULER, laughed at the irony of this game. Just when he and Sandstorm had been prepared to make their power play, the teams were completely reorganized, and he and Sandstorm were now on different teams. His two biggest threats for leadership, Battle Star and Derwyddon, were both on the other tribe now, and he had the two puny kids, Biohazard and Gomi, on his team along with three of the women, Valkyrie, Number Nine, and Ion. And they had only the day to determine who they’d be voting out. One of the men, or one of the women. Ultimately, he didn’t care, so long as it wasn’t him.
As Brendan thought through the complex structures of this game, he felt Number Nine’s hands work on the tight knots in his shoulders and neck. “How’s that feeling, handsome?”
Brendan sighed with pleasure. “It’s amazing, lassie. I’ve never felt a woman’s hands with such strength in them.”
Number Nine, who had surprisingly cuddled up to him last night in the shelter, giggled a bit as she continued massaging. “It’s my pleasure to help take care of such a big, strong man like yourself.”
Brendan didn’t know what to think of this woman. Was this a strategy on her part to try and make it in the game longer? Was she trying to bring him over to their side? Was she just trying to mess with his brain? He had to admit, he didn’t mind the attention; she was an absolute babe. But something about her left him a bit uneasy. As he closed his eyes to enjoy the massage, Brendan reminded himself again that though relaxing in this game was not an option, but it might be okay for just a few minutes.
Fletcher Traynor, Biohazard, sat deep in the Symkarian woods and focused. He held his hand out under his face, clutching his wrist tightly with his other hand, and he focused on that hand, focused with all the power his mind could muster. But it wasn’t until he began to get frustrated and disgusted with himself that it began to work. His anger was the key. The more irrationally angry he grew, the easier it became to turn his body into the acidic slime that made up his Biohazard form.
Fletcher watched his hand take on a green hue, then watched as it began to melt before him. His heart quickened, his breathing came in short pulsing breaths, and the transformation began to move up his arm, toward his elbow. He had allowed himself to begin the transformation, and now he needed to will himself to stop it. He had to take control!
With the thought of control, Fletcher let out a yell toward the sky. Control, when did he ever have control! Not in school, not in his family, not while studied and poked and prodded at Project PEGASUS. Never in control! Never! Unable to stop the transformation anymore, Fletcher gave in to the anger and felt his arm, his trunk, his waist and legs and neck and face, all convert into acid. He willed himself to grow bigger, his mind maintaining at least a portion of control over his body.
It wasn’t until he grew to ten feet high that he noticed Ion floating before him in her bizarre containment suit. She spoke to him in a calm, emotionless tone. “You know, young man, you and I aren’t that different.”
Irrational, Fletcher cried out in fury. “We are nothing alike!”
Fletcher watched as Ion floated down to the ground below him and removed the face cover of her containment suit. “Let me show you my true form.” As Fletcher watched, a bizarre glob of energy melted out of the suit and floated upward in front of him. It looked like a protoplasm, with no recognizable human characteristics. Fletcher was shocked, appalled, and concerned at the same moment. “This is my true form, young one. This is what the accident did to me.”
As Fletcher felt himself changing back into his human form again, he wondered at what they did have in common, and he wondered if maybe Ion had it worse than he did.
TEAM JOYCE
Angela Cairn, Nocturne, forced herself to land among her teammates at camp. It was early and they were sitting outside the shelter, huddled up and unspeaking, around the newly constructed campfire. From an outward appearance, this might seem like a happy, congenial group, but the emotions Angela could read off of them were a myriad of distasteful flavors. Battle Star, staring into the flames, resonated stoicism, yet a strong sense of being unsettled. Sandstorm, his head in his hands, had a frightening edginess and unpredictability about him. Free Spirit, who was staring across the fire at Battle Star, had a bizarre blend of hope and self-defeat, something new in her since their transfer to this team. Steel Spider, his metal harness still around his trunk, reflected emotions that Angela couldn’t read; it was a mixture of strange flavors that she couldn’t quite identify, but with a powerful determination underlying all of them. And lastly, Derwyddon, running his hand through his beard, gave off an aura of indignation.
Angela stood on the sidelines. No one had noticed her. She’d covered herself in mists as she’d flown through the dark sky, an act that always made her more difficult to spot. And she’d landed without a sound, a true creature of the night. That is all she was now, all she was meant to be. A creature who blended into the darkness. Invisible until you noticed her around. Feeding off the pains of others, ignoring the pains of self. Wings, claws, prehensile hair, the ability to heal the injuries of others and of herself.
Angela reached up, unbidden, to the buffalo bone earring in her right ear. Feeling it gave her comfort. It was her only tie to her former life. A tangible object, something she could touch to remember her days as a little girl, when her Native American mother had given her this earring as a reminder of her heritage. Angela felt pangs of guilt and sadness flit through her as she remembered her mother, who now thought Angela dead and gone.
“Nocturne, you are welcome to join us here at the fire.” Angela, shaken from her own demons, looked up to see the entire group looking at her. Free Spirit had invited her to sit. And Angela, contrary to her own nature, took a seat on the ground next to her new tribe.
“For my entire life, prior to my transformation, I dedicated myself to the worship of the Sun God, Hu, and his wife, Ceridwen. The other gods, such as Pan, influenced me as well. We celebrated knowledge and nature. Sacrifice, tradition, and mystery. But over all, we recognized that Hu was the all, the one who judged man and put them in their appropriate station. Though Hu no longer seems to exist in your modern world here, I believe I am still being guided by a divine power, a supreme being if you will.”
Steel Spider looked over at Derwyddon in confusion, a juvenile anger painted on his face, and Derwyddon steeled himself for the immature questions that were sure to follow. “So if there is some sort of god, why is there so much sadness and tragedy here on the planet? Why do we have to suffer so much?”
Derwyddon frowned slightly as he stretched forward out of his meditation pose. “It is not for man to question, Oliver. We must trust that there is a reason for all things.”
Steel Spider only grew more angry. “’A reason for all things?’ That’s a cop-out! What possible reason could there be for me to have been born fat and unpopular? For me to get the perfect girl, Jane Lane, only to lose her to a stray bullet? For my hero, Spider-Man, to suffer in the public’s eyes year after year? For me to get my arm bitten off?”
Derwyddon placed a reassuring hand on the shoulder of his charge, ignoring the look of frustration and fury on Steel Spider’s face. “Oliver, you must let go of these things. You must allow yourself to retire these pains. The supreme power can only guide you if you allow him in.”
Oliver suddenly sprouted his long metallic legs from his chest harness and raised himself up into the air, seemingly ready to run. “Derwyddon, you’ve been really cool to me so far, but you can’t ask me to let that stuff go. Sometimes it feels like that is all I’ve got left.”
Derwyddon looked away from his ally. “Oliver, if you want to follow the correct path, there is no room for such intense personal pain, or for such mental imbalance.”
With a shriek, Oliver scampered away into the forest. Derwyddon closed his eyes, seeking the balance within himself. His mission remained intact. He would destroy the Initiative from the inside out.
TRIBAL COUNCIL: TEAM JOYCE
Jasper welcomed the six members of the new Team Joyce and surveyed them, looking for signs of tension and confusion among them. MAULER, Valkyrie, and Number Nine all looked relatively comfortable and happy. Ion he couldn’t read. And Gomi and Biohazard seemed, respectively, depressed and bitter.
“Gomi, I can’t help but notice how sad you seem tonight.”
Jasper was shocked when Gomi began to cry softly. “It’s—it’s my lobster, Bill. He’s at the other camp, and I had to leave him behind. I’m just having a hard time being away from him is all.”
Jasper considered asking Biohazard questions, but then decided against it. He turned to Valkyrie. “Valkyrie, there seems to be a relative calmness among your group, despite the vote tonight.”
“Jasper, our vote, much like last time, is a simple one to come by. We need to rid our new tribe of the discord among it, and take out our weakest link. On top of that, this contestant volunteered to be voted out tonight.”
Jasper, curious at this, allowed the voting to go forward.
The first vote was for Gomi. This was from Number Nine, who felt sorry for her new ally and was willing to honor his request to let him leave the game.
The second vote was for Gomi. This was from Biohazard, who was pleased to get rid of one of those who hadn’t stood up for him earlier in the game.
The third vote was for Valkyrie. This was from Gomi, who didn’t care where his vote went, and who disliked Valkyrie’s brash nature.
The fourth vote was for Gomi. This was from MAULER, who was glad to be rid of his weakest teammate, and who had never connected well with Gomi.
The fifth vote was for Gomi. This was Valkyrie, who wanted the weakest link out of the game.
The sixth vote was for Gomi. This was from Ion, who was voting along with her team, despite having nothing personal against Gomi.
Jasper felt nothing but pity as he watched the diminutive boy cyborg walk away, no lobster in hand.
TRIBAL COUNCIL: TEAM HAMMOND
The six members of Team Hammond took their seats and Jasper again scanned them for reactions. He truly had no idea who would win this game. Steel Spider looked unnerved, Derwyddon intent, and Battle Star weary. Nocturne looked frightened as usual; Jasper still hadn’t heard her speak. Free Spirit and Sandstorm were more difficult to read this time around.
Before Jasper could speak, Free Spirit started up. “I waited until now to address the team because I thought it would help to talk this over in a neutral environment. If you would permit me, Jasper?” Jasper nodded his consent, wondering what was about to come. “I just want to remind you all that we are here in this challenge to be part of the Initiative, and to serve our country using our powers for the greater good. I don’t think that the petty challenges that seem to have divided our teams are worth it. We should simply be able to speak out loud about how the team is going to vote for the good of the team.”
Battle Star looked at Free Spirit with narrowed eyebrows. “Free Spirit, right? You worked with Captain America, I remember. Let me tell you, kid, just because you feel one way about something doesn’t mean that everyone else is going to feel that way. You got me?”
“But we are supposed to be heroes! Our own concerns and motivations should be set aside!”
Steel Spider then piped in, nearly shouting. “We didn’t all get the perfect little white bread life that you did, missy! Now why don’t you shut your trap and sit down?”
Jasper saw no need to keep the discussion going. He turned it over to the votes.
The first vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Derwyddon, who was voting according to his earlier plan, to rid the team of who he perceived the weakest was.
The second vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Nocturne, who’d been invited to vote this way by Free Spirit before the challenge.
The third vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Sandstorm, who had been planning to vote for Steel Spider until the little speech from Free Spirit annoyed him.
The fourth vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Battle Star, who had made eye contact with Sandstorm and changed his vote at the last minute, feeling that having such discord in the tribe wouldn’t be helpful.
The fifth vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Free Spirit, who wanted the most unstable member of her team gone.
The sixth vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Steel Spider, who was voting along with Derwyddon, despite his anger at his mentor.
As Jasper extinguished Free Spirit’s torch, she turned to her teammates. “I bear none of you any malice, and I look forward to the day when we can serve together as heroes.” Then she walked proudly away.
And then there were ten! Thank you all for our continued participation, comments, and, especially, votes! I truly have no idea who will win this game, and I’m thrilled to see who goes next! And as the stories of Gomi and Free Spirit have come to an end, several other stories are heating up!
Due to random selection, Team Joyce gets immunity next episode. That means you must vote for someone on Team Hammond to leave the game. The votes should be getting harder as we go! If they are, I’m doing something right! :D
TEAM JOYCE (immunity):
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Derwyddon
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
TEAM HAMMOND:
Biohazard (Fletcher Traynor)
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Number Nine
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
Breakdown
DAY 13
TEAM HAMMOND
When Tony Trainer was ten years old, growing up in dangerous Camden, New Jersey, he had had two close friends killed by a kid at school. A white kid with a gun that left two black kids dead. And when the chips fell, it was discovered that a teacher had brought the gun into the school in the first place. A teacher!
While in college, which Tony had risen above all odds to attend, Tony had become a research assistant, working long hours for no pay on various science projects alongside tenured professors. It was a dream until Project Sandstorm happened. An outside agency contracted with the school to weaponize the biologic sand specimens of two super-villains, Sandman and Quicksand, both of whom had been mutated into sand-beings. Things inevitably went wrong, as they are apt to do, and Tony was mutated into another sand being. Calling himself Sandstorm, he’d gone on a rampage and killed one of the professors before Spider-Man stopped him. Tony had learned how to control his new powers, and he’d, of course, claimed that the professor’s death was only an accident. And thus, Tony had formed his mission in life; destroying and defaming government programs and authority figures who sought to create weapons. And what better place to do that than the Initiative, the entire United States government seeking to weaponize every hero out there? Of course, he’d been keeping his true motivations for joining up to himself.
“D’ye think it’ll work, laddie?”
Tony smiled and looked up at his new and unexpected ally, MAULER. Tony had tied himself to Battle Star early in the game. When Battle Star had figured that Tony was black, because of the dark ebony skin the sand mutation had given him, Tony hadn’t dissuaded him, even though he was Caucasian. They’d had an easy, comfortable friendship; just the sort Tony needed to survive in this game. He knew his best route to victory in this game was to fight hard in the challenges and stay under the radar. He’d make it to his ultimate goals better that way. But this alliance, this plan? Perfection.
“Yeah, Brendan, I think our plan will work just fine.”
“Biiiiiiiiill!”
As Lemar Hoskins, Battle Star, watched from his vantage point in the woods, where he’d been exercising, Gomi, that skinny, scrawny white kid, was standing on the shore of the lake that bordered their camp. Gomi was wearing a white tank top and a pair of boxers covered in smiley faces, his thick glasses on his nose. Lemar bet the kid didn’t weigh more than a buck-twenty. How could such a featherweight have ever been drafted into the Initiative, into a super-hero military? So he could talk to a super-strong lobster and fire off blasts from his brain. If the boy couldn’t run, climb a fence, or throw a ball, how was he ever going to survive against the threats he would face in the defense of his country? Lemar pictured Gomi trying to face his old foes in the Watchdogs, in ULTIMATUM, or in the Genesis Coalition. Gomi would be torn to shreds!
Lemar continued watching quietly as Gomi fell on his knees in the muddy sand, took off his glasses, buried his head in his hands, and begin sobbing. As Gomi’s loud wailings echoed over the lake, Lemar stopped himself from going to comfort the young man. Just as he’d stopped himself from standing up to Brother Nature on the behalf of Biohazard. These kids were young and vulnerable, true, but they were out of their element here. Coddling them would not make them into better super heroes or soldiers. They, like him, had chosen to be here, and they had to face up to the difficult stuff just like he had.
Suddenly, Gomi was shouting. “Bill! It’s been a few days since you spoke to me! For the last few years, you’ve been my only friend. No one else likes me or understands me. They think I’m a freak or a nerd or whatever else. I don’t fit in anywhere! Bill, I can’t do this by myself! Please come up here and talk to me!”
Lemar walked away, leaving the kid to his sobbing.
TEAM JOYCE
“What did you mean, a few days ago, when you told me I’m not trying hard enough? How can I be expected to fight against my own nature, my own brain?”
Valkyrie slashed her sword at the air callously, seemingly not even listening to Number Nine. “Nine, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That’s it. I haven’t given you a thought since then, honestly.”
Number Nine felt the tears start to flow down her cheeks. “Haven’t given me thought? That’s all I have: my thoughts! Who am I, where have I come from? How did I end up in the hands of Skip Ash for the reprogramming? Do I have a family? Are they worried about me? Why can’t I remember?”
When Valkyrie simply continued her sword thrusts at an imaginary opponent, and didn’t answer, Number Nine felt hot fury flood through her. She leapt at Valkyrie, intending to make the woman listen to her! She barely noticed when Valkyrie’s sword bit into her shoulder, straight into the bone. The anger flooded out of her as the she fell against the ground, blood trickling down from the deep wound in her arm, though she was incapable of feeling the pain.
Valkyrie threw her sword aside and rushed to Number Nine in concern. On her knees in a panic, she examined the wound closely. “Nine! I’m so sorry! I just turned, and you were there, and the sword--! I didn’t know you were there!”
Number Nine suddenly found herself laughing, filled with joy, even as the wound began naturally healing on her arm, part of her new genetic makeup. She’d be completely healed in seconds. “Valkyrie, it doesn’t matter! Don’t you see? Ha-ha! I got angry! For the first time ever, I felt anger!”
Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, leaned down into the water and began washing the blood off her sword. Of all the ridiculous, amateur mistakes! She was furious with herself! How had she allowed herself to slash a teammate, a friend, with her sword? She breathed in deeply. No, it wasn’t her fault. She had been practicing with her sword and Number Nine had entered that space without announcement. Then again, could Samantha blame her? Number Nine wasn’t a trained swordswoman like she was. Samantha had chosen to challenge her teammates regarding their own heroic development, and she had to be prepared to accept the consequences of her challenges.
Samantha raised her newly clean blade out in front of her. She felt all the old doubts welling up inside her uncomfortably. Once she had simply been Samantha Parrington, a wealthy socialite with over-indulgent parents, trying to find herself by committing to various causes, such as feminism, radicalism, and the pro-choice movement. But she’d always had a confused self-concept, and she’d always known it. When she’d been changed into the Valkyrie, she was fully aware that she’d been able to repress her confused self and had given herself over to the strong warrior woman who had no room for self-doubt in her existence. She liked to think that she had more balance now, but she knew deep down that the Valkyrie side of her was still firmly in control.
After drying her sword, Samantha sheathed the weapon and, with sudden shock, found herself transformed back into her mortal self, the frail form of Samantha Parrington. Her reflection in the water showed a slight, blonde woman in blue jeans and a snug, white blouse. Compared to her Valkyrie-self, she was timid, shorter, less… sturdy. How had this happened? She knew the magic of her blade was still intact, but only if she willed the transformation, and she hadn’t transformed into her mortal self in over six months!
With a shudder, Samantha drew the sword again and changed back to the Valkyrie. The beautiful, strong, powerful Valkyrie. She thanked the gods again for the magic that allowed her to turn into this amazing heroine.
DAY 14
Jasper Sitwell was excited. Things were about to change, and his favorite parts of the game were coming up. He had some amazing things planned for these contestants, things no one would ever see coming. The longer they stayed in the competition, the better they would know themselves, the more challenged they would be, and the better the hero they would ultimately become.
Jasper left the small trailer he was living in while the competition was ongoing here in Symkaria. There were other trailers all around him for the cameramen, challenge designers, medical staff, etc. Not a bad crew, all said. Jasper was constantly having to address situations from the game. Just yesterday, in fact, a contestant had been wounded by a sword. But he’d investigated and found that there had been no malice intended and no sustained injury. Another potential crisis averted in a game that seemed to be full of crises.
That evening, Jasper stood before the seven members of Team Hammond and the five members of Team Joyce, and turned their worlds upside down. With an excited tremor in his voice, Jasper had announced that the two tribes were about to be reshuffled. He’d instructed the twelve contestants to stand on a separate ceramic tile, then had them turn the tile over. Those on red squares would be the new Team Joyce; those on yellow would be the new Team Hammond.
Jasper watched the two new groups form with varying reactions. On the Team Joyce side, Battle Star and Sandstorm stood close together, eyeing the others. Derwyddon, his hands folded, with Steel Spider standing at his flank looking imposing. Nocturne, a calm fear across her face, flitted nearby, looking at Free Spirit, whose expression was unreadable. And on Team Hammond’s side, Valkyrie, arms folded, was staring down her new teammates, Gomi and Biohazard, who looked incredibly uncomfortable at being scrutinized in such a way. MAULER was looking at Number Nine with a tight grin, and she was lapping up the attention, while Ion, face as unreadable as ever, floated above the group.
Jasper informed them that Team Hammond would return to the Hammond camp, with Team Joyce returning to the Joyce camp. He then informed them that there would be no immunity challenge the following day, and that both new teams would be joining him at separate tribal councils, and that two people would be voted out. As the teams walked back to their camps, Jasper watched, an eager anticipation in his stomach for this next phase in the game.
DAY 15
TEAM HAMMOND
Brendan Doyle, MAULER, laughed at the irony of this game. Just when he and Sandstorm had been prepared to make their power play, the teams were completely reorganized, and he and Sandstorm were now on different teams. His two biggest threats for leadership, Battle Star and Derwyddon, were both on the other tribe now, and he had the two puny kids, Biohazard and Gomi, on his team along with three of the women, Valkyrie, Number Nine, and Ion. And they had only the day to determine who they’d be voting out. One of the men, or one of the women. Ultimately, he didn’t care, so long as it wasn’t him.
As Brendan thought through the complex structures of this game, he felt Number Nine’s hands work on the tight knots in his shoulders and neck. “How’s that feeling, handsome?”
Brendan sighed with pleasure. “It’s amazing, lassie. I’ve never felt a woman’s hands with such strength in them.”
Number Nine, who had surprisingly cuddled up to him last night in the shelter, giggled a bit as she continued massaging. “It’s my pleasure to help take care of such a big, strong man like yourself.”
Brendan didn’t know what to think of this woman. Was this a strategy on her part to try and make it in the game longer? Was she trying to bring him over to their side? Was she just trying to mess with his brain? He had to admit, he didn’t mind the attention; she was an absolute babe. But something about her left him a bit uneasy. As he closed his eyes to enjoy the massage, Brendan reminded himself again that though relaxing in this game was not an option, but it might be okay for just a few minutes.
Fletcher Traynor, Biohazard, sat deep in the Symkarian woods and focused. He held his hand out under his face, clutching his wrist tightly with his other hand, and he focused on that hand, focused with all the power his mind could muster. But it wasn’t until he began to get frustrated and disgusted with himself that it began to work. His anger was the key. The more irrationally angry he grew, the easier it became to turn his body into the acidic slime that made up his Biohazard form.
Fletcher watched his hand take on a green hue, then watched as it began to melt before him. His heart quickened, his breathing came in short pulsing breaths, and the transformation began to move up his arm, toward his elbow. He had allowed himself to begin the transformation, and now he needed to will himself to stop it. He had to take control!
With the thought of control, Fletcher let out a yell toward the sky. Control, when did he ever have control! Not in school, not in his family, not while studied and poked and prodded at Project PEGASUS. Never in control! Never! Unable to stop the transformation anymore, Fletcher gave in to the anger and felt his arm, his trunk, his waist and legs and neck and face, all convert into acid. He willed himself to grow bigger, his mind maintaining at least a portion of control over his body.
It wasn’t until he grew to ten feet high that he noticed Ion floating before him in her bizarre containment suit. She spoke to him in a calm, emotionless tone. “You know, young man, you and I aren’t that different.”
Irrational, Fletcher cried out in fury. “We are nothing alike!”
Fletcher watched as Ion floated down to the ground below him and removed the face cover of her containment suit. “Let me show you my true form.” As Fletcher watched, a bizarre glob of energy melted out of the suit and floated upward in front of him. It looked like a protoplasm, with no recognizable human characteristics. Fletcher was shocked, appalled, and concerned at the same moment. “This is my true form, young one. This is what the accident did to me.”
As Fletcher felt himself changing back into his human form again, he wondered at what they did have in common, and he wondered if maybe Ion had it worse than he did.
TEAM JOYCE
Angela Cairn, Nocturne, forced herself to land among her teammates at camp. It was early and they were sitting outside the shelter, huddled up and unspeaking, around the newly constructed campfire. From an outward appearance, this might seem like a happy, congenial group, but the emotions Angela could read off of them were a myriad of distasteful flavors. Battle Star, staring into the flames, resonated stoicism, yet a strong sense of being unsettled. Sandstorm, his head in his hands, had a frightening edginess and unpredictability about him. Free Spirit, who was staring across the fire at Battle Star, had a bizarre blend of hope and self-defeat, something new in her since their transfer to this team. Steel Spider, his metal harness still around his trunk, reflected emotions that Angela couldn’t read; it was a mixture of strange flavors that she couldn’t quite identify, but with a powerful determination underlying all of them. And lastly, Derwyddon, running his hand through his beard, gave off an aura of indignation.
Angela stood on the sidelines. No one had noticed her. She’d covered herself in mists as she’d flown through the dark sky, an act that always made her more difficult to spot. And she’d landed without a sound, a true creature of the night. That is all she was now, all she was meant to be. A creature who blended into the darkness. Invisible until you noticed her around. Feeding off the pains of others, ignoring the pains of self. Wings, claws, prehensile hair, the ability to heal the injuries of others and of herself.
Angela reached up, unbidden, to the buffalo bone earring in her right ear. Feeling it gave her comfort. It was her only tie to her former life. A tangible object, something she could touch to remember her days as a little girl, when her Native American mother had given her this earring as a reminder of her heritage. Angela felt pangs of guilt and sadness flit through her as she remembered her mother, who now thought Angela dead and gone.
“Nocturne, you are welcome to join us here at the fire.” Angela, shaken from her own demons, looked up to see the entire group looking at her. Free Spirit had invited her to sit. And Angela, contrary to her own nature, took a seat on the ground next to her new tribe.
“For my entire life, prior to my transformation, I dedicated myself to the worship of the Sun God, Hu, and his wife, Ceridwen. The other gods, such as Pan, influenced me as well. We celebrated knowledge and nature. Sacrifice, tradition, and mystery. But over all, we recognized that Hu was the all, the one who judged man and put them in their appropriate station. Though Hu no longer seems to exist in your modern world here, I believe I am still being guided by a divine power, a supreme being if you will.”
Steel Spider looked over at Derwyddon in confusion, a juvenile anger painted on his face, and Derwyddon steeled himself for the immature questions that were sure to follow. “So if there is some sort of god, why is there so much sadness and tragedy here on the planet? Why do we have to suffer so much?”
Derwyddon frowned slightly as he stretched forward out of his meditation pose. “It is not for man to question, Oliver. We must trust that there is a reason for all things.”
Steel Spider only grew more angry. “’A reason for all things?’ That’s a cop-out! What possible reason could there be for me to have been born fat and unpopular? For me to get the perfect girl, Jane Lane, only to lose her to a stray bullet? For my hero, Spider-Man, to suffer in the public’s eyes year after year? For me to get my arm bitten off?”
Derwyddon placed a reassuring hand on the shoulder of his charge, ignoring the look of frustration and fury on Steel Spider’s face. “Oliver, you must let go of these things. You must allow yourself to retire these pains. The supreme power can only guide you if you allow him in.”
Oliver suddenly sprouted his long metallic legs from his chest harness and raised himself up into the air, seemingly ready to run. “Derwyddon, you’ve been really cool to me so far, but you can’t ask me to let that stuff go. Sometimes it feels like that is all I’ve got left.”
Derwyddon looked away from his ally. “Oliver, if you want to follow the correct path, there is no room for such intense personal pain, or for such mental imbalance.”
With a shriek, Oliver scampered away into the forest. Derwyddon closed his eyes, seeking the balance within himself. His mission remained intact. He would destroy the Initiative from the inside out.
TRIBAL COUNCIL: TEAM JOYCE
Jasper welcomed the six members of the new Team Joyce and surveyed them, looking for signs of tension and confusion among them. MAULER, Valkyrie, and Number Nine all looked relatively comfortable and happy. Ion he couldn’t read. And Gomi and Biohazard seemed, respectively, depressed and bitter.
“Gomi, I can’t help but notice how sad you seem tonight.”
Jasper was shocked when Gomi began to cry softly. “It’s—it’s my lobster, Bill. He’s at the other camp, and I had to leave him behind. I’m just having a hard time being away from him is all.”
Jasper considered asking Biohazard questions, but then decided against it. He turned to Valkyrie. “Valkyrie, there seems to be a relative calmness among your group, despite the vote tonight.”
“Jasper, our vote, much like last time, is a simple one to come by. We need to rid our new tribe of the discord among it, and take out our weakest link. On top of that, this contestant volunteered to be voted out tonight.”
Jasper, curious at this, allowed the voting to go forward.
The first vote was for Gomi. This was from Number Nine, who felt sorry for her new ally and was willing to honor his request to let him leave the game.
The second vote was for Gomi. This was from Biohazard, who was pleased to get rid of one of those who hadn’t stood up for him earlier in the game.
The third vote was for Valkyrie. This was from Gomi, who didn’t care where his vote went, and who disliked Valkyrie’s brash nature.
The fourth vote was for Gomi. This was from MAULER, who was glad to be rid of his weakest teammate, and who had never connected well with Gomi.
The fifth vote was for Gomi. This was Valkyrie, who wanted the weakest link out of the game.
The sixth vote was for Gomi. This was from Ion, who was voting along with her team, despite having nothing personal against Gomi.
Jasper felt nothing but pity as he watched the diminutive boy cyborg walk away, no lobster in hand.
TRIBAL COUNCIL: TEAM HAMMOND
The six members of Team Hammond took their seats and Jasper again scanned them for reactions. He truly had no idea who would win this game. Steel Spider looked unnerved, Derwyddon intent, and Battle Star weary. Nocturne looked frightened as usual; Jasper still hadn’t heard her speak. Free Spirit and Sandstorm were more difficult to read this time around.
Before Jasper could speak, Free Spirit started up. “I waited until now to address the team because I thought it would help to talk this over in a neutral environment. If you would permit me, Jasper?” Jasper nodded his consent, wondering what was about to come. “I just want to remind you all that we are here in this challenge to be part of the Initiative, and to serve our country using our powers for the greater good. I don’t think that the petty challenges that seem to have divided our teams are worth it. We should simply be able to speak out loud about how the team is going to vote for the good of the team.”
Battle Star looked at Free Spirit with narrowed eyebrows. “Free Spirit, right? You worked with Captain America, I remember. Let me tell you, kid, just because you feel one way about something doesn’t mean that everyone else is going to feel that way. You got me?”
“But we are supposed to be heroes! Our own concerns and motivations should be set aside!”
Steel Spider then piped in, nearly shouting. “We didn’t all get the perfect little white bread life that you did, missy! Now why don’t you shut your trap and sit down?”
Jasper saw no need to keep the discussion going. He turned it over to the votes.
The first vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Derwyddon, who was voting according to his earlier plan, to rid the team of who he perceived the weakest was.
The second vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Nocturne, who’d been invited to vote this way by Free Spirit before the challenge.
The third vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Sandstorm, who had been planning to vote for Steel Spider until the little speech from Free Spirit annoyed him.
The fourth vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Battle Star, who had made eye contact with Sandstorm and changed his vote at the last minute, feeling that having such discord in the tribe wouldn’t be helpful.
The fifth vote was for Steel Spider. This was from Free Spirit, who wanted the most unstable member of her team gone.
The sixth vote was for Free Spirit. This was from Steel Spider, who was voting along with Derwyddon, despite his anger at his mentor.
As Jasper extinguished Free Spirit’s torch, she turned to her teammates. “I bear none of you any malice, and I look forward to the day when we can serve together as heroes.” Then she walked proudly away.
And then there were ten! Thank you all for our continued participation, comments, and, especially, votes! I truly have no idea who will win this game, and I’m thrilled to see who goes next! And as the stories of Gomi and Free Spirit have come to an end, several other stories are heating up!
Due to random selection, Team Joyce gets immunity next episode. That means you must vote for someone on Team Hammond to leave the game. The votes should be getting harder as we go! If they are, I’m doing something right! :D
TEAM JOYCE (immunity):
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Derwyddon
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
TEAM HAMMOND:
Biohazard (Fletcher Traynor)
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Number Nine
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
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