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)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Survivor: the Initiative Episode 4
SURVIVOR: THE INITIATIVE episode 4
Holding Council
DAY 10
TEAM HAMMOND
Fletcher Traynor, Biohazard, looked around at the members of his “team” and felt angry and grateful and bitter and relieved all at once. But mostly bitter. A few days back, Brother Nature had kicked him out of their team’s shelter, basically just for existing. Fletcher had had to just rough it in the woods of Symkaria for the following days. No one, not even the great hero Battle Star, had really tried standing up for him. They’d just followed Nature’s edict. Fletcher was definitely bitter, at all of them, except for Derwyddon and Steel Spider. Those two had taken him in, given him a place in the woods to relax and sleep, given him fire and food. They were the only ones in this game who would get his loyalty. But now that Brother Nature was gone, Battle Star, the supposed team leader, had called a team meeting.
They stood and sat in a circle at the place where Brother Nature’s giant shelter had stood. Now it was just regular ground like the rest of the woods. Battle Star was in full costume, orating to the gathered group. MAULER, looking a bit too callous, and Sandstorm, a stupid grin on his face, stood on either side of him. Gomi was holding his ridiculous lobster off to one side. Fletcher and Steel Spider sat on either side of Derwyddon, who had his robes gathered around his knees, his walking stick laying to the side as he stroked his beard and listened.
Battle Star was just wrapping up his speech. “In conclusion, I’m aware of the divisions among us, the various alliances. In a game about outplaying, outwitting, and outlasting, that is to be expected, but I hope we can all keep our eye on the true prize. We are here to show the world that we are heroes, that we can be the best heroes that we can be, and that we’ll fight for our country when we return to its service, wherever our assignment should be.”
Derwyddon spoke softly. “Tell me something, Mr. Hoskins, do you believe this government you represent to be unbiased and honest of intention?”
Battle Star looked around at this group. “No. I don’t. In fact, I don’t think anyone here completely, or blindly, trusts the government. Despite my having worked for them for a time, I spent a long time overseas as a mercenary, and I didn’t learn the prettiest things about politics, ours or anyone else’s. And when the Registration Act was passed, I opposed it. But we’ve got to start somewhere. If they won’t be trustworthy, then at least we can be.”
Derwyddon looked up intently. “And yet nearly all of us here were forced into registration. Few are here willingly, besides, perhaps, Gomi.”
Gomi smiled faintly as his cheeks turned pink. MAULER stepped in now, angry and frustrated. “What’re we doin’, havin’ this conversation about the evils of government when we’ve got us a shelter ta rebuild! What’ll we do when it rains, eh?”
As the members of the team divvied up the various assignments for the rebuilding of the shelter, Fletcher couldn’t pay attention. He tried, but he just couldn’t focus his thoughts. Sometimes it felt like there was this green and disgusting acid monster just rolling around inside him, just waiting to have an excuse to get out. How was Fletcher ever supposed to learn to control that? The scientists at Project: PEGASUS had tried to help him, but he just couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t…
“Fletch? You okay?” Fletcher swallowed back some vomit in his mouth, and it burned his throat. He turned to see Steel Spider leaning over in concern.
Fletcher, struggling to keep the beast inside of him, leapt to his feet. “I won’t forget what you all did to me! I won’t ever forget it!” And he rushed away.
TEAM JOYCE
Using her elemental awareness, Dr. Voletta Todd, Ion, sensed someone behind her. Someone slight, small of frame. She turned her head, if you could call it a head, and looked through her eyes, if you could call them eyes, at the approaching Phantom Blonde, all sass and swagger. Voletta cooled her temper and turned back to her task of cleaning the fish she’d captured from the lake, using her ionic field to slice them open and take the guts out of them.
“That isn’t going to help you, you know.” Phantom Blonde was standing only a few feet away now, her hands on her hips. “No matter how hard you work, no matter what you try and do, it’s not going to help. Cause you are still going to be the next one to go, no matter how you shake it, baby.”
Voletta felt the ionic energy in her containment suit bubble slightly in annoyance. She suddenly had memories of her days in college, those endless days, when she would study and the flighty females around her would mercilessly egg her on about having no life. Then, just as suddenly, memories of her male coworkers at Alternative Resources cat-calling at her when they thought she couldn’t hear, calling her prudish because she was driven and focused on her work. Well, those girls in school had all ended up floozies and housewives while she’d gone on to make newfound scientific strides. And those men… well, she didn’t know what’d become of them after her accident. Maybe they were killed in the explosion that transformed her into ionic energy.
Clearing her thoughts and unwilling to be taunted, Voletta set the fish down on the ground and turned to face Phantom Blonde. “Are you looking for a particular reaction out of me, or are you just being a #####?”
Phantom Blonde scoffed and looked like she’d just been slapped. “Look, I’m just trying to be open and honest with you.”
“If you were seeking to be open and honest, you wouldn’t be taunting and cajoling. Listen, chippie, I’m a nuclear physicist. I admittedly don’t have the physical advantages that you do, but I have power and drive and I bring something to this team. I don’t ride on the coattails of my parents, like some others I know of. So go somewhere else to feel tough. I’ve got work to do.”
Phantom Blonde was sneering at Ion as she turned away. “You—agh, you are such a weirdo! A weirdo and a nerd! Next time we lose, you are gone, girl. Gone gone gone.”
“They are so useless!” Wanda Mason, the Phantom Blonde, had the attention of the three sane people on her tribe, the same who also happened to be the members of her alliance: Valkyrie, Number Nine, and Free Spirit. They were the most beautiful of the contestants, the most trustworthy, and the most blonde. Wanda liked these girls and was glad to be a part of them. They had already gotten rid of two weirdos on her team, Gladiatrix and Temp, now they just had two to go. Ion had to go first. Then that weird winged lady, Nocturne. When Wanda was eventually assigned to a super hero team, she hoped she had normal heroes on her team, not weird ones.
Free Spirit was looking up at the sky, her hands behind her head. “Wanda, we know how you feel about the rest of our team, but honestly, they are effectively our allies at this point. Shouldn’t you be more focused on our opponents on Team Hammond?”
Wanda thought about it for a moment, then laughed. “Well, there are a bunch of weirdos over there, too. A couple of nice physiques, I guess, especially that yummy Battle Star, but they’ve got old men and skinny kids, too. We’ll just have to pick them all off til we are the final four fabulous females.”
Number Nine gave out an awkward giggle, but stopped, cheeks pink with embarrassment, when no one else laughed. Valkyrie looked a bit worried for some reason. Free Spirit spoke up again. “I really think we ought to be focused on pulling together rather than falling apart. We are already down a member.”
Then Valkyrie spoke up. “And as much as Wanda hates to admit it, Ion really is pulling her weight around camp. And I had a recent… intervention with Nocturne. I think with a bit of persistence and follow-through, she’ll stop avoiding our tribe so much. I think the combination of being around others and in an unfamiliar place has just put her into a bit of a funk. She’s a very emotional creature.”
Number Nine laughed out loud again. “Showing emotions is only natural, so long as it is done in a controlled way, and so long as one recognizes that the male is the stronger species.” She sometimes did and said things without thinking about it first, a result of her programming by that disgusting millionaire. Number Nine put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry! It just comes out sometimes!” Wanda rolled her eyes. These girls may be beautiful, but they were definitely definitely not normal.
DAY 11
TEAM HAMMOND
Genora. Derwyddon remembered Genora, his one and only true love. It had been nearly three thousand years since he had last seen her. On the night before he was scheduled to undergo the sacred rituals for Druidism, before he was to be sent out to sea on his own to be judged by the gods. He’d been worried that he wouldn’t survive, that he would never see Genora again, and he had lain with her. It was with a guilty conscience that he went on his quest the next day. His boat had sunk and Derwyddon had been taken by the sea sprites and put into a deep sleep. A sleep that lasted centuries. And when he’d awakened, Genora had been long dead. And if that punishment by the gods hadn’t been enough, Derwyddon had found his very religion a thing of the past, replaced by the worship of new gods and by a world-spreading religion called Christianity. Derwyddon had been furious and had lashed out against the world for a time, creating monsters who would aid him in destruction, but he’d had a change of heart. He’d spent centuries hunting down those monsters. And now, here he was on his new path, the very path he expected the gods wanted him to be on. He’d been guided to the Initiative. He’d been led here, and he knew why now. He knew what his purpose was.
Derwyddon pulled the fish off the fire and set it on a cooling stone. Gomi eyed it through his round glasses, blinking and obviously hungry. “You may have some if you wish.”
Gomi grinned and thanked Derwyddon. “Bill usually catches fish for me, but he hasn’t really been speaking with me the past few days. He’ll come around, I suppose, but thanks for the fish anyway.”
Derwyddon smiled. He’d done next to nothing to ingratiate himself with his teammates, yet they kept coming to him and forming allegiances one by one. He was slowly finding himself in a leadership position among those of his tribe. “The animals do not think the same way we humans do. But your Bill, he is a special animal indeed.”
Gomi’s face lit up as he put a small piece of fish in his mouth. “Yes, he’s the most special. He’s my best friend.”
Derwyddon adjusted his robes over his knees. “I find that most creatures in the wild have a special and unique place of belonging. It seems this lobster has found its way into your heart. In my days of communing with the naiads and dryads, I found similar companionship and acceptance.”
Gomi took a few more mouthfuls of fish and began opening up about his long history with the lobster. And Derwyddon reflected upon his newfound place of power. Biohazard trusted him implicitly. Steel Spider was rarely far from Derwyddon’s side, and had even begun dressing and speaking like Derwyddon. And now this lost young boy was with him as well. It felt wonderful to sense the path of power before him.
Brendan Doyle, MAULER, fired off an electronic burst from his armor’s chargers and watched it give off a massive electric shock in the lake, dissipating with a violent zap sound. The armor, the Mobile Armored Utility Laser Emitter, Revised, had been upgraded a few times since Brendan had stolen it. He could fire most of his weaponry several times before having to recharge for 24 hours. The laser units, the electro-shock, and the flight capability were all solar-powered, and he’d had to leave most his offensive weaponry back at home.
When Brendan had first occupied the MAULER armor, he’d been so impressed by it. A streamlined fighting machine with offensive weapons! He’d been thrilled, and it had made his job as a mercenary much more exciting. To have a villainous identity and a powerful reputation to go along with it, he’d figured he could be a billionaire and retire on a private island somewhere by the time he was forty. He had definitely figured it would beat out his soldier-for-hire days; he’d nearly winded up dead too many times to consider more mercenary assignments without the armor, that was for sure. But then the defeats had started piling up. Fights with Iron Man, Spider-Man, Guardian, even earlier cadets in the Initiative; they just kept leaving him defeated and ashamed. His reputation became a joke, not something to be lauded.
With another cry of fury, Brendan fired off more electric pulses and watched them, with his arms wide, cascade over the lake surface before going out. He remembered the day he’d learned about his son. Young Daniel. He’d been so angry, he’d tried to kidnap the boy. He was determined to raise the child on his own, to bring him up to be a man. But then he’d realized, with Spider-Man’s help, that he had no idea how to be a father, or how to take care of a baby. With the discovery of his son, his whole life had changed. He stopped caring about profiting for himself, and started caring about taking care of that boy’s future. With the Initiative came the chance to become lauded as a hero, receiving payment for it as well. He could think of nothing he wanted more than to see his boy proud of him.
Brendan landed on the sandy shore of the lake and pulled off his helmet, taking in the crisp Symkarian air. All of his plans on pulling in the stragglers and forming an outsider’s alliance, they didn’t seem to be working very well. The group had all formed tight connections to others around him, without him. He had, in essence, become the outsider. It was time for him to switch tactics. He needed to win this game.
It was a few minutes later when Brendan approached Sandstorm with his plan.
TEAM JOYCE
Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, looked at her teammates with a cold, calculating stare. Though they had balked at the idea, she had lined them all up like they were soldiers in her army and she was walking back and forth in front of them like the toughest drill sergeant they had ever had. Valkyrie stepped in front of them, one by one, meeting each of their gazes, not saying a word, not breaking eye contact until she was ready. She was almost waiting for one of them to break ranks, so that she could show them who was boss. Free Spirit. Nocturne. Ion. Number Nine. Phantom Blonde. Her teammates. Who would break first?
Of course it was her. Phantom Blonde threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Valkyrie, what are you doing? Why are we just standing here?”
Valkyrie ignored her and kept walking a few more steps. She then stepped back and surveyed her team. “It is long past time for someone to whip this team into shape. Not with words and impassioned pleas, but with brutal truth, honest intentions, and decisiveness. I’ve taken it upon myself to do so.”
The other five members of Team Joyce glanced around uncomfortably, wondering what was going on. All except Free Spirit, who looked a little bit hurt.
“Free Spirit, I see the pained look on your face. I believe that you have thought yourself the leader of our little tribe, but your skills are simply inadequate for that particular station. You are young and idealistic, and your inexperience does not lead well for a group containing former criminals and lost souls. Your ideals do not mesh in this tribe. You would do best to focus on sharpening your own skills and working harder to understand the human spirit.”
As Free Spirit fought back the light tears running down her cheeks, Valkyrie continued down the line. “Nocturne, this is our eleventh day of association and I have yet to learn anything about you except that you are an impressive fighter with a vast array of skills. You are either incredibly timid or incredibly wounded. Regardless, it is long beyond time you started bonding with the team and participating in camp life. If you are going to thrive as a hero, you can’t expect to flit about the trees mysteriously.
“Ion, I have appreciated your attempts to ingratiate yourself with the women here, supplying food for us and working hard. It has not escaped my eyes that you have no need to sleep or eat yourself, and yet you have avidly worked on the shelter and supplies for the woman around you. Though I can not yet ferret out your true motivations, you have proved yourself a valuable ally, and I look forward to associating with you for a long time to come.
“Number Nine, I’m not sure what is going on in your brain. From what I can tell, you have been entirely programmed to be the way you are, but I think you merely need the courage to face your past self and to truly embrace your memories and life goals. You must find that courage within yourself, as the rest of us can not do this for you. You are a skilled and beautiful woman, my friend, now you must grow past this.”
Valkyrie moved past the three women she’d just addressed, gauging their varying responses, then stood before her last, and most unworthy, ally. “And now you, little Phantom Blonde. You have no powers, you have no work ethic, and you have low regard for others. Help me understand why you were even allowed to come into this game, no less to enroll in the Initiative. What value are you to me?”
Valkyrie stifled the mirth she felt inside as she watched Phantom Blonde squirm before her, looking to the others for support and noticing their eyes were all averted. Valkyrie wasn’t afraid of pushing buttons when she felt it would help achieve potential; her parents, and her experiences with the Defenders, had taught her that much at least.
Phantom Blonde stammered. “B-but I’m your friend! Why are you talking to me like this?”
Valkyrie leaned in so that she could be nose to nose with Phantom Blonde. “You are not my friend. You are my ally. And the least worthy one that I can see thus far.”
DAY 12
IMMUNITY CHALLENGE
As the two teams gathered before him, Jasper adjusted his glasses on his nose, then folded his hands, waiting for them all to be in place. When he announced that Brother Nature had been voted out, he noted that Valkyrie was really the only member of Team Joyce to convey surprise; the others seemed uncomfortable, tense, and disinterested. Then men still seemed to be grouped in their alliances, even in the way they stood, but the power balance seemed to be shifting. Jasper noted these facts to himself as he announced the upcoming challenge.
“Our challenges thus far have focused on your ability to divide tasks among your team, and your ability to remain unified as a team. I know that this has been difficult for many of you, to not be able to rely on the talents of others, and for some of you to have to rely on others at all, but that is all part of what being in a super hero team is all about. At the end of your training, you will be deployed to a state team and required to participate in super heroics on a military level. Not for profit, not for self-gain, but for the sake of others. As we move further on in the competition, you’ll be learning more about your own ability to rely on yourself and others, and the challenges, trust me, will only be more difficult as we go along. Today’s challenge will require you to select a leader on your team, something that seems to be changing for both teams.”
As Jasper waited, Valkyrie brashly stepped forward to represent Team Joyce, ignoring Free Spirit’s small protest. Derwyddon and Battle Star seemed to face each other uncomfortably before Derwyddon indicated that Battle Star should step forward, and he did so. Jasper showed them across a complicated rope course, and let each team leader know that the other members of their team would be blindfolded and lead through a complicated rope course, guided only by the instructions of their leaders, who would have to manage, vocally, all five of the other members of the team. Battle Star chose Gomi to sit out this challenge.
After the individual members of the team blindfolded themselves and Jasper gave the go ahead, Valkyrie and Battle Star began shouting out orders chaotically to the members of their team. As the blindfolded heroes stumbled around the rope course, occasionally colliding and/or falling, the two leaders struggles to maintain control. Battle Star creatively had Derwyddon, Steel Spider, and Sandstorm use their powers at various places in the course to get around obstacles; Valkyrie, catching on to this tactic, had Ion and Nocturne use their flight powers on the course to aid their teammates and avoid places in the course. The entire competition lasted nearly ninety minutes and the exhausted contestants showed little enthusiasm when Team Hammond pulled out a narrow victory.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
The six women of Team Joyce gathered in before Jasper that evening, their lit torches set to the side as he prepared to question them. He sensed a wide tension among the women.
“Number Nine, there is a palpable tension among the women of your group this evening. What do you attribute this to?”
“There have been divisions in our tribe. A core alliance of four and a group of outsiders. Loyalties were recently exposed and called into question when Valkyrie harshly challenged us on our own progress as heroes. This cut deeply to many of us and we are still working to reconcile her words within ourselves.”
“Nocturne, based on your refusal to make eye contact, I’m left to assume that you still aren’t speaking to me? Okay, in that case, Ion, if alliances are exposed in such a way, how will you be casting your individual votes tonight?”
“I could not pretend to speak for the other individuals here, so some would do, but I can speak for myself. I will be voting for the most obnoxious member of our tribe, and the one who brings the least to the table.”
Jasper was surprised when Phantom Blonde suddenly shouted out. “Listen, you floozy, I’m guessing you are talking to me, but at least I bring a face to the team! Think about that! And as far as not being super powered, I’ll remind all here that there are lots of heroes who have no powers, like Hawkeye, Mockingbird, and Captain America! Who’s to say I’m not going to be the greatest hero ever?”
Valkyrie looked at her ally with scorn. “You compare yourself to heroes of this caliber? They work and practice and enhance their skills constantly! They don’t loaf about and flit and complain from person to person!”
Jasper waited for the silence to settle over the tense group, then he allowed them to go forward with the voting. The first vote was for Ion. This was from Phantom Blonde, who wanted her creepy teammate long gone.
The second vote was for Ion. This was from Free Spirit, who was going along with the plans of her original alliance.
The third vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Ion, who despised this false hero in her midst.
The fourth vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Number Nine, who was coerced into voting this way by Valkyrie, despite her own recriminations.
The fifth vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Valkyrie, who needed the weakest link on their tribe gone.
The sixth vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Nocturne, who was requested by Ion to vote this way.
As Jasper extinguished the torch of the Phantom Blonde, she turned to her teammates and promptly stuck out her tongue. “I won’t forget, and I won’t forgive.”
Hope you enjoyed this episode! Just as you were getting comfortable with the current format, we are switching things up starting next episode! We are down to seven men and five women. In Episode 5, those teams get divided and reshuffled, giving us a new (randomly selected) set of teams. And to spice it up even more, no immunity challenge next episode. Both of the new teams have to have someone voted off. So this time vote for someone from EACH team, and we’ll be losing TWO contestants next time around. Thank you for your ongoing support and feedback! I’m thrilled about where this is going.
Side note: if it seems that one character or another takes a back seat in one episode, that is a plotting issue; trust that each character has big things ahead. It’s not about me liking one above another.
The new TEAM HAMMOND:
Biohazard (Fletcher Traynor)
Gomi (Alphonsus Lefszycic)
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Number Nine
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
The new TEAM JOYCE:
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Derwyddon
Free Spirit (Cathy Webster)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
Holding Council
DAY 10
TEAM HAMMOND
Fletcher Traynor, Biohazard, looked around at the members of his “team” and felt angry and grateful and bitter and relieved all at once. But mostly bitter. A few days back, Brother Nature had kicked him out of their team’s shelter, basically just for existing. Fletcher had had to just rough it in the woods of Symkaria for the following days. No one, not even the great hero Battle Star, had really tried standing up for him. They’d just followed Nature’s edict. Fletcher was definitely bitter, at all of them, except for Derwyddon and Steel Spider. Those two had taken him in, given him a place in the woods to relax and sleep, given him fire and food. They were the only ones in this game who would get his loyalty. But now that Brother Nature was gone, Battle Star, the supposed team leader, had called a team meeting.
They stood and sat in a circle at the place where Brother Nature’s giant shelter had stood. Now it was just regular ground like the rest of the woods. Battle Star was in full costume, orating to the gathered group. MAULER, looking a bit too callous, and Sandstorm, a stupid grin on his face, stood on either side of him. Gomi was holding his ridiculous lobster off to one side. Fletcher and Steel Spider sat on either side of Derwyddon, who had his robes gathered around his knees, his walking stick laying to the side as he stroked his beard and listened.
Battle Star was just wrapping up his speech. “In conclusion, I’m aware of the divisions among us, the various alliances. In a game about outplaying, outwitting, and outlasting, that is to be expected, but I hope we can all keep our eye on the true prize. We are here to show the world that we are heroes, that we can be the best heroes that we can be, and that we’ll fight for our country when we return to its service, wherever our assignment should be.”
Derwyddon spoke softly. “Tell me something, Mr. Hoskins, do you believe this government you represent to be unbiased and honest of intention?”
Battle Star looked around at this group. “No. I don’t. In fact, I don’t think anyone here completely, or blindly, trusts the government. Despite my having worked for them for a time, I spent a long time overseas as a mercenary, and I didn’t learn the prettiest things about politics, ours or anyone else’s. And when the Registration Act was passed, I opposed it. But we’ve got to start somewhere. If they won’t be trustworthy, then at least we can be.”
Derwyddon looked up intently. “And yet nearly all of us here were forced into registration. Few are here willingly, besides, perhaps, Gomi.”
Gomi smiled faintly as his cheeks turned pink. MAULER stepped in now, angry and frustrated. “What’re we doin’, havin’ this conversation about the evils of government when we’ve got us a shelter ta rebuild! What’ll we do when it rains, eh?”
As the members of the team divvied up the various assignments for the rebuilding of the shelter, Fletcher couldn’t pay attention. He tried, but he just couldn’t focus his thoughts. Sometimes it felt like there was this green and disgusting acid monster just rolling around inside him, just waiting to have an excuse to get out. How was Fletcher ever supposed to learn to control that? The scientists at Project: PEGASUS had tried to help him, but he just couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t…
“Fletch? You okay?” Fletcher swallowed back some vomit in his mouth, and it burned his throat. He turned to see Steel Spider leaning over in concern.
Fletcher, struggling to keep the beast inside of him, leapt to his feet. “I won’t forget what you all did to me! I won’t ever forget it!” And he rushed away.
TEAM JOYCE
Using her elemental awareness, Dr. Voletta Todd, Ion, sensed someone behind her. Someone slight, small of frame. She turned her head, if you could call it a head, and looked through her eyes, if you could call them eyes, at the approaching Phantom Blonde, all sass and swagger. Voletta cooled her temper and turned back to her task of cleaning the fish she’d captured from the lake, using her ionic field to slice them open and take the guts out of them.
“That isn’t going to help you, you know.” Phantom Blonde was standing only a few feet away now, her hands on her hips. “No matter how hard you work, no matter what you try and do, it’s not going to help. Cause you are still going to be the next one to go, no matter how you shake it, baby.”
Voletta felt the ionic energy in her containment suit bubble slightly in annoyance. She suddenly had memories of her days in college, those endless days, when she would study and the flighty females around her would mercilessly egg her on about having no life. Then, just as suddenly, memories of her male coworkers at Alternative Resources cat-calling at her when they thought she couldn’t hear, calling her prudish because she was driven and focused on her work. Well, those girls in school had all ended up floozies and housewives while she’d gone on to make newfound scientific strides. And those men… well, she didn’t know what’d become of them after her accident. Maybe they were killed in the explosion that transformed her into ionic energy.
Clearing her thoughts and unwilling to be taunted, Voletta set the fish down on the ground and turned to face Phantom Blonde. “Are you looking for a particular reaction out of me, or are you just being a #####?”
Phantom Blonde scoffed and looked like she’d just been slapped. “Look, I’m just trying to be open and honest with you.”
“If you were seeking to be open and honest, you wouldn’t be taunting and cajoling. Listen, chippie, I’m a nuclear physicist. I admittedly don’t have the physical advantages that you do, but I have power and drive and I bring something to this team. I don’t ride on the coattails of my parents, like some others I know of. So go somewhere else to feel tough. I’ve got work to do.”
Phantom Blonde was sneering at Ion as she turned away. “You—agh, you are such a weirdo! A weirdo and a nerd! Next time we lose, you are gone, girl. Gone gone gone.”
“They are so useless!” Wanda Mason, the Phantom Blonde, had the attention of the three sane people on her tribe, the same who also happened to be the members of her alliance: Valkyrie, Number Nine, and Free Spirit. They were the most beautiful of the contestants, the most trustworthy, and the most blonde. Wanda liked these girls and was glad to be a part of them. They had already gotten rid of two weirdos on her team, Gladiatrix and Temp, now they just had two to go. Ion had to go first. Then that weird winged lady, Nocturne. When Wanda was eventually assigned to a super hero team, she hoped she had normal heroes on her team, not weird ones.
Free Spirit was looking up at the sky, her hands behind her head. “Wanda, we know how you feel about the rest of our team, but honestly, they are effectively our allies at this point. Shouldn’t you be more focused on our opponents on Team Hammond?”
Wanda thought about it for a moment, then laughed. “Well, there are a bunch of weirdos over there, too. A couple of nice physiques, I guess, especially that yummy Battle Star, but they’ve got old men and skinny kids, too. We’ll just have to pick them all off til we are the final four fabulous females.”
Number Nine gave out an awkward giggle, but stopped, cheeks pink with embarrassment, when no one else laughed. Valkyrie looked a bit worried for some reason. Free Spirit spoke up again. “I really think we ought to be focused on pulling together rather than falling apart. We are already down a member.”
Then Valkyrie spoke up. “And as much as Wanda hates to admit it, Ion really is pulling her weight around camp. And I had a recent… intervention with Nocturne. I think with a bit of persistence and follow-through, she’ll stop avoiding our tribe so much. I think the combination of being around others and in an unfamiliar place has just put her into a bit of a funk. She’s a very emotional creature.”
Number Nine laughed out loud again. “Showing emotions is only natural, so long as it is done in a controlled way, and so long as one recognizes that the male is the stronger species.” She sometimes did and said things without thinking about it first, a result of her programming by that disgusting millionaire. Number Nine put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry! It just comes out sometimes!” Wanda rolled her eyes. These girls may be beautiful, but they were definitely definitely not normal.
DAY 11
TEAM HAMMOND
Genora. Derwyddon remembered Genora, his one and only true love. It had been nearly three thousand years since he had last seen her. On the night before he was scheduled to undergo the sacred rituals for Druidism, before he was to be sent out to sea on his own to be judged by the gods. He’d been worried that he wouldn’t survive, that he would never see Genora again, and he had lain with her. It was with a guilty conscience that he went on his quest the next day. His boat had sunk and Derwyddon had been taken by the sea sprites and put into a deep sleep. A sleep that lasted centuries. And when he’d awakened, Genora had been long dead. And if that punishment by the gods hadn’t been enough, Derwyddon had found his very religion a thing of the past, replaced by the worship of new gods and by a world-spreading religion called Christianity. Derwyddon had been furious and had lashed out against the world for a time, creating monsters who would aid him in destruction, but he’d had a change of heart. He’d spent centuries hunting down those monsters. And now, here he was on his new path, the very path he expected the gods wanted him to be on. He’d been guided to the Initiative. He’d been led here, and he knew why now. He knew what his purpose was.
Derwyddon pulled the fish off the fire and set it on a cooling stone. Gomi eyed it through his round glasses, blinking and obviously hungry. “You may have some if you wish.”
Gomi grinned and thanked Derwyddon. “Bill usually catches fish for me, but he hasn’t really been speaking with me the past few days. He’ll come around, I suppose, but thanks for the fish anyway.”
Derwyddon smiled. He’d done next to nothing to ingratiate himself with his teammates, yet they kept coming to him and forming allegiances one by one. He was slowly finding himself in a leadership position among those of his tribe. “The animals do not think the same way we humans do. But your Bill, he is a special animal indeed.”
Gomi’s face lit up as he put a small piece of fish in his mouth. “Yes, he’s the most special. He’s my best friend.”
Derwyddon adjusted his robes over his knees. “I find that most creatures in the wild have a special and unique place of belonging. It seems this lobster has found its way into your heart. In my days of communing with the naiads and dryads, I found similar companionship and acceptance.”
Gomi took a few more mouthfuls of fish and began opening up about his long history with the lobster. And Derwyddon reflected upon his newfound place of power. Biohazard trusted him implicitly. Steel Spider was rarely far from Derwyddon’s side, and had even begun dressing and speaking like Derwyddon. And now this lost young boy was with him as well. It felt wonderful to sense the path of power before him.
Brendan Doyle, MAULER, fired off an electronic burst from his armor’s chargers and watched it give off a massive electric shock in the lake, dissipating with a violent zap sound. The armor, the Mobile Armored Utility Laser Emitter, Revised, had been upgraded a few times since Brendan had stolen it. He could fire most of his weaponry several times before having to recharge for 24 hours. The laser units, the electro-shock, and the flight capability were all solar-powered, and he’d had to leave most his offensive weaponry back at home.
When Brendan had first occupied the MAULER armor, he’d been so impressed by it. A streamlined fighting machine with offensive weapons! He’d been thrilled, and it had made his job as a mercenary much more exciting. To have a villainous identity and a powerful reputation to go along with it, he’d figured he could be a billionaire and retire on a private island somewhere by the time he was forty. He had definitely figured it would beat out his soldier-for-hire days; he’d nearly winded up dead too many times to consider more mercenary assignments without the armor, that was for sure. But then the defeats had started piling up. Fights with Iron Man, Spider-Man, Guardian, even earlier cadets in the Initiative; they just kept leaving him defeated and ashamed. His reputation became a joke, not something to be lauded.
With another cry of fury, Brendan fired off more electric pulses and watched them, with his arms wide, cascade over the lake surface before going out. He remembered the day he’d learned about his son. Young Daniel. He’d been so angry, he’d tried to kidnap the boy. He was determined to raise the child on his own, to bring him up to be a man. But then he’d realized, with Spider-Man’s help, that he had no idea how to be a father, or how to take care of a baby. With the discovery of his son, his whole life had changed. He stopped caring about profiting for himself, and started caring about taking care of that boy’s future. With the Initiative came the chance to become lauded as a hero, receiving payment for it as well. He could think of nothing he wanted more than to see his boy proud of him.
Brendan landed on the sandy shore of the lake and pulled off his helmet, taking in the crisp Symkarian air. All of his plans on pulling in the stragglers and forming an outsider’s alliance, they didn’t seem to be working very well. The group had all formed tight connections to others around him, without him. He had, in essence, become the outsider. It was time for him to switch tactics. He needed to win this game.
It was a few minutes later when Brendan approached Sandstorm with his plan.
TEAM JOYCE
Samantha Parrington, Valkyrie, looked at her teammates with a cold, calculating stare. Though they had balked at the idea, she had lined them all up like they were soldiers in her army and she was walking back and forth in front of them like the toughest drill sergeant they had ever had. Valkyrie stepped in front of them, one by one, meeting each of their gazes, not saying a word, not breaking eye contact until she was ready. She was almost waiting for one of them to break ranks, so that she could show them who was boss. Free Spirit. Nocturne. Ion. Number Nine. Phantom Blonde. Her teammates. Who would break first?
Of course it was her. Phantom Blonde threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Valkyrie, what are you doing? Why are we just standing here?”
Valkyrie ignored her and kept walking a few more steps. She then stepped back and surveyed her team. “It is long past time for someone to whip this team into shape. Not with words and impassioned pleas, but with brutal truth, honest intentions, and decisiveness. I’ve taken it upon myself to do so.”
The other five members of Team Joyce glanced around uncomfortably, wondering what was going on. All except Free Spirit, who looked a little bit hurt.
“Free Spirit, I see the pained look on your face. I believe that you have thought yourself the leader of our little tribe, but your skills are simply inadequate for that particular station. You are young and idealistic, and your inexperience does not lead well for a group containing former criminals and lost souls. Your ideals do not mesh in this tribe. You would do best to focus on sharpening your own skills and working harder to understand the human spirit.”
As Free Spirit fought back the light tears running down her cheeks, Valkyrie continued down the line. “Nocturne, this is our eleventh day of association and I have yet to learn anything about you except that you are an impressive fighter with a vast array of skills. You are either incredibly timid or incredibly wounded. Regardless, it is long beyond time you started bonding with the team and participating in camp life. If you are going to thrive as a hero, you can’t expect to flit about the trees mysteriously.
“Ion, I have appreciated your attempts to ingratiate yourself with the women here, supplying food for us and working hard. It has not escaped my eyes that you have no need to sleep or eat yourself, and yet you have avidly worked on the shelter and supplies for the woman around you. Though I can not yet ferret out your true motivations, you have proved yourself a valuable ally, and I look forward to associating with you for a long time to come.
“Number Nine, I’m not sure what is going on in your brain. From what I can tell, you have been entirely programmed to be the way you are, but I think you merely need the courage to face your past self and to truly embrace your memories and life goals. You must find that courage within yourself, as the rest of us can not do this for you. You are a skilled and beautiful woman, my friend, now you must grow past this.”
Valkyrie moved past the three women she’d just addressed, gauging their varying responses, then stood before her last, and most unworthy, ally. “And now you, little Phantom Blonde. You have no powers, you have no work ethic, and you have low regard for others. Help me understand why you were even allowed to come into this game, no less to enroll in the Initiative. What value are you to me?”
Valkyrie stifled the mirth she felt inside as she watched Phantom Blonde squirm before her, looking to the others for support and noticing their eyes were all averted. Valkyrie wasn’t afraid of pushing buttons when she felt it would help achieve potential; her parents, and her experiences with the Defenders, had taught her that much at least.
Phantom Blonde stammered. “B-but I’m your friend! Why are you talking to me like this?”
Valkyrie leaned in so that she could be nose to nose with Phantom Blonde. “You are not my friend. You are my ally. And the least worthy one that I can see thus far.”
DAY 12
IMMUNITY CHALLENGE
As the two teams gathered before him, Jasper adjusted his glasses on his nose, then folded his hands, waiting for them all to be in place. When he announced that Brother Nature had been voted out, he noted that Valkyrie was really the only member of Team Joyce to convey surprise; the others seemed uncomfortable, tense, and disinterested. Then men still seemed to be grouped in their alliances, even in the way they stood, but the power balance seemed to be shifting. Jasper noted these facts to himself as he announced the upcoming challenge.
“Our challenges thus far have focused on your ability to divide tasks among your team, and your ability to remain unified as a team. I know that this has been difficult for many of you, to not be able to rely on the talents of others, and for some of you to have to rely on others at all, but that is all part of what being in a super hero team is all about. At the end of your training, you will be deployed to a state team and required to participate in super heroics on a military level. Not for profit, not for self-gain, but for the sake of others. As we move further on in the competition, you’ll be learning more about your own ability to rely on yourself and others, and the challenges, trust me, will only be more difficult as we go along. Today’s challenge will require you to select a leader on your team, something that seems to be changing for both teams.”
As Jasper waited, Valkyrie brashly stepped forward to represent Team Joyce, ignoring Free Spirit’s small protest. Derwyddon and Battle Star seemed to face each other uncomfortably before Derwyddon indicated that Battle Star should step forward, and he did so. Jasper showed them across a complicated rope course, and let each team leader know that the other members of their team would be blindfolded and lead through a complicated rope course, guided only by the instructions of their leaders, who would have to manage, vocally, all five of the other members of the team. Battle Star chose Gomi to sit out this challenge.
After the individual members of the team blindfolded themselves and Jasper gave the go ahead, Valkyrie and Battle Star began shouting out orders chaotically to the members of their team. As the blindfolded heroes stumbled around the rope course, occasionally colliding and/or falling, the two leaders struggles to maintain control. Battle Star creatively had Derwyddon, Steel Spider, and Sandstorm use their powers at various places in the course to get around obstacles; Valkyrie, catching on to this tactic, had Ion and Nocturne use their flight powers on the course to aid their teammates and avoid places in the course. The entire competition lasted nearly ninety minutes and the exhausted contestants showed little enthusiasm when Team Hammond pulled out a narrow victory.
TRIBAL COUNCIL
The six women of Team Joyce gathered in before Jasper that evening, their lit torches set to the side as he prepared to question them. He sensed a wide tension among the women.
“Number Nine, there is a palpable tension among the women of your group this evening. What do you attribute this to?”
“There have been divisions in our tribe. A core alliance of four and a group of outsiders. Loyalties were recently exposed and called into question when Valkyrie harshly challenged us on our own progress as heroes. This cut deeply to many of us and we are still working to reconcile her words within ourselves.”
“Nocturne, based on your refusal to make eye contact, I’m left to assume that you still aren’t speaking to me? Okay, in that case, Ion, if alliances are exposed in such a way, how will you be casting your individual votes tonight?”
“I could not pretend to speak for the other individuals here, so some would do, but I can speak for myself. I will be voting for the most obnoxious member of our tribe, and the one who brings the least to the table.”
Jasper was surprised when Phantom Blonde suddenly shouted out. “Listen, you floozy, I’m guessing you are talking to me, but at least I bring a face to the team! Think about that! And as far as not being super powered, I’ll remind all here that there are lots of heroes who have no powers, like Hawkeye, Mockingbird, and Captain America! Who’s to say I’m not going to be the greatest hero ever?”
Valkyrie looked at her ally with scorn. “You compare yourself to heroes of this caliber? They work and practice and enhance their skills constantly! They don’t loaf about and flit and complain from person to person!”
Jasper waited for the silence to settle over the tense group, then he allowed them to go forward with the voting. The first vote was for Ion. This was from Phantom Blonde, who wanted her creepy teammate long gone.
The second vote was for Ion. This was from Free Spirit, who was going along with the plans of her original alliance.
The third vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Ion, who despised this false hero in her midst.
The fourth vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Number Nine, who was coerced into voting this way by Valkyrie, despite her own recriminations.
The fifth vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Valkyrie, who needed the weakest link on their tribe gone.
The sixth vote was for Phantom Blonde. This was from Nocturne, who was requested by Ion to vote this way.
As Jasper extinguished the torch of the Phantom Blonde, she turned to her teammates and promptly stuck out her tongue. “I won’t forget, and I won’t forgive.”
Hope you enjoyed this episode! Just as you were getting comfortable with the current format, we are switching things up starting next episode! We are down to seven men and five women. In Episode 5, those teams get divided and reshuffled, giving us a new (randomly selected) set of teams. And to spice it up even more, no immunity challenge next episode. Both of the new teams have to have someone voted off. So this time vote for someone from EACH team, and we’ll be losing TWO contestants next time around. Thank you for your ongoing support and feedback! I’m thrilled about where this is going.
Side note: if it seems that one character or another takes a back seat in one episode, that is a plotting issue; trust that each character has big things ahead. It’s not about me liking one above another.
The new TEAM HAMMOND:
Biohazard (Fletcher Traynor)
Gomi (Alphonsus Lefszycic)
Ion (Voletta Todd)
MAULER (Brendan Doyle)
Number Nine
Valkyrie (Samantha Parrington)
The new TEAM JOYCE:
Battle Star (Lemar Hoskins)
Derwyddon
Free Spirit (Cathy Webster)
Nocturne (Angela Cairn)
Sandstorm (Tony Trainer)
Steel Spider (Oliver Osnick)
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