Re: LAST. THING. STANDING. [S!1][ROUND ONE: TELEVISION LAND]
12-07-2011, 12:00 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.
"Eagles, respond." *beepbeepbeep*
The jazz music had been a nice change of pace from the gaudy PR events her team stacked into slow weeks. Thankfully, she'd been abducted just before she would have arrived at yet another one.
But, damn, that sax was starting to get a bit high pitched for her tastes. If she weren't sitting in a fragile, non-reinforced chair, she'd consider going heavy to muffle it a bit like she did during most of the intro.
Focus, Freefall. What's your next move?
...Drawing a blank. Sure, be that way. You can't stay laid back in this chair, mocking the show forever. You have to try to escape, remember?
Yeah, that was it. Escape. You know what to do. You've been trained for this.
Hell, you've had lessons!
M.E.T.A.L, a 10-foot, hulking, too-smooth golem of silvery liquid steel, was quite the figure. His booming, robotic voice would have been intimidating even out of a toaster; as a whole, his presence often had lesser criminals voiding their bowels with abandon.
At the moment, this imposing image was sabotaged by a square scholar's cap and pointer.
Freefall raised her hand from the school-desk her team brought out for these occasions. "I appreciate the lessons, Met. Really, I do. But this one? How often can I really expect to be 'abducted into a tournament of supers'?"
"Oh, I'd put money on it happening at least once, Free," the Gadgeteer chimed in. "It's happened to Ace. Twice, actually." Smiling and cocky in the most annoying fucking way, like two fast-talking, Counterstrike-playing nerds packed into one short, athletic Vietnamese kid. Maybe the funny sort of annoying, even, like a little brother; so irritating that you don't even mind. He folded his arms and leaned back for effect, though the extra, robotic pair of arms underneath never ceased their adjustments to his four custom plasma pistols. There were workbenches throughout the Eagles' Nest, allowing him to keep up his productive hobby wherever he went.
"Yeah, it's true, Rach'. Wouldn't hurt to pay attention." Oh, that voice. Gadge made laying back a gesture of forced awkwardness compared to their leader, Ace, reclining on the couch with his arms behind his head. Relaxed, but never too relaxed. Eyebrows portraying just enough wry amusement above that cheesy but oddly stylish eye-mask. She hid it pretty well behind a sardonic scowl (she liked to think), but sometimes it was hard not to just stare and- "ADJUST Y0UR C0NCENTRAT10N, UN1T <FREEFALL>. TH1S 1S N0T A T1ME T0 RES1DE 1N STANDBY M0DE."
"Fine, fine. So what are the steps, anyway?"
"Actually, let me handle this, Metal. I'm the guy who introduced it into the curriculum, after all." Ace strode up to the whiteboard – so smooth – and borrowed the pointer Metal had morphed out of his semisolid arm.
"First item," he pointed, as Metal etched said item onto the board with rapid mechanical precision. "If it wasn't voluntary, never trust it. No reward or prestige justifies abducting you without warning, regardless of their excuse. Watch what happens to the participants that lose, and be prepared to overthrow the whole thing if necessary."
"Is that what you did?"
"The first time, no. I won. Of course. Why wouldn't he? Then it turned out to be a ruse to teach a cursed army all our skills and abilities. Had to free the others and kick the organizer to the curb, not to mention eat a lot of crow for being so blind. Didn't make the same mistake the second time around."
"Not that I had to, which brings me to the second point. If they expect you to fight to the death, occasionally or otherwise – a colosseum-type thing, like the second place I was taken – don't be afraid of leading a rebellion, even in the open. They plucked you from your home, and probably did the same for most of the others; if they killed or broke everyone who resisted, they wouldn't have any working fighters at all! Force is all they have to reign you in, and you're all valuable cargo. They can't afford to kill you without an audience and bets."
"Third, form a tight-knit alliance. Get a plan together, and take falls for each other if necessary. If anyone disagrees and would rather take you guys down, just get them out of the way; no need for hostilities, if you can help it. They might even come around the closer you are to succeeding."
"So if someone's being a bastard about it, I can knock them out and just-?" "Language, Rach'. Remember our PR; we're kid friendly twenty-four seven, or we lose public support and advertising deals. That's what paid for your fancy new suit." "Wait, I thought just the R-rated stuff was out. Now I can't even say 'bastard'?"
"If only that were the sole issue, young newcomer~!" Oh, god. The pink bitch. She just glides in through the air with that childish sing-song hum, does a slow, playful somersault off Ace's head and he just looks at that prissy show-off in that shy way he never fucking does with me, and she fucking knows it – oops, the desk was starting to creak, there – and floats gently down with a corny ~flourish~ of magenta sparkles. 'Magenta'. What a stupid hero name.
"You cannot simply solve all your problems by forcing others unconscious! You must acquire the patience to reason, and- goodness, you're not even listening to me, are you?" "Nope. What's the next bullet, Ace?"
"Maggie has a point," - just how could he say 'Maggie' all the time with a straight face, it was unbelievable - "...but let's move on. Point four is not to get worked up over betrayal. Nobody's in their comfort zone, and even the best people might lose their handle on the situation and defect. Try to make sure people can't do too much damage if they betray your allies, but if they do, don't make a big deal out of it. Just focus on escaping with everyone willing, and making it home intact."
"And the fifth point is by far the most important!"
"Well, the fifth one is to take every chance you can to contact us back home. The communicator hidden in your collar is some of Gadge's finest work. Activate it, and we'll know where you are if you're anywhere in the known or unknown universe. If it's compromised, just search for comm stations, magic users, anything you can get your hands on."
"Do not be afraid to pray, reach out with feelings, or even use your favorite personal rituals! Remember, magic is always stronger than you think~<3," she winked. Groan.
"Not like you'll need phony sparkles and stuff with my equipment on your neck!" Magenta rolled her eyes, ~playfully~. "Your communicator has a quantum link with the Nest that uses entanglement to encode and send us vital signs, coor-" ...oh dear lord, hasn't Gadge learned by now that you neither get nor care about all this technical bullshit? "...got a geiger counter, an MP3 player, I even stuffed in a-" "Gadget." "Oh, uh, heh. Sorry. Long story short, if your communicator gives three beeps, that's the Q-fail. Means either the Nest's been destroyed, or you've been warped to a time or dimension where it doesn't even exist. Otherwise, we can find you anywhere, no problemo."
She sat down properly, rapping her fingers against a coffee-stained dossier on the desk. "So, let's see... this's a super tournament, so we've got our heroes, villains, and neutrals that'll go either way."
She swiped a pencil from an old coffee cup, larger than the one that'd stained her writing surface. "Alright, so we have some sorta Announcer." She scrawled the word on top of the folder, underlining it twice. "Big bad villain. Beat the shit outta him."
"In terms of contestants, we got that weird-ass Rest Inn that wants people to sleep in it so they can get loved and cuddled. Haha, sure. Wreck the place." She drew lines to the sides and top of the names so far, marking the header 'Villians'. She mighta gotten the 'i' and 'a' mixed up, she thought. Not that she really cared. "You don't enter a Hampton Inn in a death battle 'less it's got some sorta nasty infestation. Least it's flashy and easy to spot."
"Then there was Crack-something, last of her race, so might be a good guy. But cyborgs are kinda usually evil? Not sure with this one, find out later. She's probably a badass either way."
"Shadowy Painter that drives people insane. Obvious villain. Beat him into submission, tie him up."
"Greedy wizard, also obvious villain. Same policy."
"Some wizard Timothy kid and living armor, sweet. Hero. Keep away from the greedy wizard."
"Then... oh boy. That Nozzle jellyfish thing. Probably some fucking lab experiment, grows or shoots poison or mind control. Let's leave it at 'don't touch' for now."
"Then the twisted and horrifying zombie dude. I bet he's friendly! Pfff."
"So..." She stood up and got a top-down perspective on her lopsided list. "Yeah, probably can't beat that announcer just with Harry Potter and the Iron Giant. Gotta try harder to win over Crackbird, even if she turns out nutty, I guess... but then maybe we'll need magic, and I'll have to trust greed wizard? And then what if I need to bribe him or...."
She paused a moment, then loudly flipped the old desk onto its side, barely missing the dozing McMiller. Fuck it. Just play it by ear, things usually work themselves out.
She brought the black and white television crackling to life. Or maybe it was a color one, and the world was just making it gray. Whatever.
News. Flip. Star Trek Wars or some shit. Flip. Zombie flick. Flip. Some... Teletubbies knockoff? Flip. "Looks like those rookies... didn't make the cut." "Oh, pff. Another shitty CSI knockoff. Make so goddamn many of 'em, one was bound to end up h-whoa..."
The scene had cut away from Lieutenant Gladwell's office to a messy bunch of corpses on the street.
That's a lot more dead bodies than usual. And don't they usually frame away from the... guts and stuff? "Something stinks in this one."
So, uh... how do I get through this thing, anyway? I guess I just need to take my arms and, sorta...
fwop
"Eagles, respond." *beepbeepbeep*
The jazz music had been a nice change of pace from the gaudy PR events her team stacked into slow weeks. Thankfully, she'd been abducted just before she would have arrived at yet another one.
But, damn, that sax was starting to get a bit high pitched for her tastes. If she weren't sitting in a fragile, non-reinforced chair, she'd consider going heavy to muffle it a bit like she did during most of the intro.
Focus, Freefall. What's your next move?
...Drawing a blank. Sure, be that way. You can't stay laid back in this chair, mocking the show forever. You have to try to escape, remember?
Yeah, that was it. Escape. You know what to do. You've been trained for this.
Hell, you've had lessons!
***
"PAY ATTENT10N, <FREEFALL>. EDUCAT10N 1S AN 1MPERAT1VE."M.E.T.A.L, a 10-foot, hulking, too-smooth golem of silvery liquid steel, was quite the figure. His booming, robotic voice would have been intimidating even out of a toaster; as a whole, his presence often had lesser criminals voiding their bowels with abandon.
At the moment, this imposing image was sabotaged by a square scholar's cap and pointer.
Freefall raised her hand from the school-desk her team brought out for these occasions. "I appreciate the lessons, Met. Really, I do. But this one? How often can I really expect to be 'abducted into a tournament of supers'?"
"Oh, I'd put money on it happening at least once, Free," the Gadgeteer chimed in. "It's happened to Ace. Twice, actually." Smiling and cocky in the most annoying fucking way, like two fast-talking, Counterstrike-playing nerds packed into one short, athletic Vietnamese kid. Maybe the funny sort of annoying, even, like a little brother; so irritating that you don't even mind. He folded his arms and leaned back for effect, though the extra, robotic pair of arms underneath never ceased their adjustments to his four custom plasma pistols. There were workbenches throughout the Eagles' Nest, allowing him to keep up his productive hobby wherever he went.
"Yeah, it's true, Rach'. Wouldn't hurt to pay attention." Oh, that voice. Gadge made laying back a gesture of forced awkwardness compared to their leader, Ace, reclining on the couch with his arms behind his head. Relaxed, but never too relaxed. Eyebrows portraying just enough wry amusement above that cheesy but oddly stylish eye-mask. She hid it pretty well behind a sardonic scowl (she liked to think), but sometimes it was hard not to just stare and- "ADJUST Y0UR C0NCENTRAT10N, UN1T <FREEFALL>. TH1S 1S N0T A T1ME T0 RES1DE 1N STANDBY M0DE."
"Fine, fine. So what are the steps, anyway?"
"Actually, let me handle this, Metal. I'm the guy who introduced it into the curriculum, after all." Ace strode up to the whiteboard – so smooth – and borrowed the pointer Metal had morphed out of his semisolid arm.
"First item," he pointed, as Metal etched said item onto the board with rapid mechanical precision. "If it wasn't voluntary, never trust it. No reward or prestige justifies abducting you without warning, regardless of their excuse. Watch what happens to the participants that lose, and be prepared to overthrow the whole thing if necessary."
"Is that what you did?"
"The first time, no. I won. Of course. Why wouldn't he? Then it turned out to be a ruse to teach a cursed army all our skills and abilities. Had to free the others and kick the organizer to the curb, not to mention eat a lot of crow for being so blind. Didn't make the same mistake the second time around."
"Not that I had to, which brings me to the second point. If they expect you to fight to the death, occasionally or otherwise – a colosseum-type thing, like the second place I was taken – don't be afraid of leading a rebellion, even in the open. They plucked you from your home, and probably did the same for most of the others; if they killed or broke everyone who resisted, they wouldn't have any working fighters at all! Force is all they have to reign you in, and you're all valuable cargo. They can't afford to kill you without an audience and bets."
"Third, form a tight-knit alliance. Get a plan together, and take falls for each other if necessary. If anyone disagrees and would rather take you guys down, just get them out of the way; no need for hostilities, if you can help it. They might even come around the closer you are to succeeding."
"So if someone's being a bastard about it, I can knock them out and just-?" "Language, Rach'. Remember our PR; we're kid friendly twenty-four seven, or we lose public support and advertising deals. That's what paid for your fancy new suit." "Wait, I thought just the R-rated stuff was out. Now I can't even say 'bastard'?"
"If only that were the sole issue, young newcomer~!" Oh, god. The pink bitch. She just glides in through the air with that childish sing-song hum, does a slow, playful somersault off Ace's head and he just looks at that prissy show-off in that shy way he never fucking does with me, and she fucking knows it – oops, the desk was starting to creak, there – and floats gently down with a corny ~flourish~ of magenta sparkles. 'Magenta'. What a stupid hero name.
"You cannot simply solve all your problems by forcing others unconscious! You must acquire the patience to reason, and- goodness, you're not even listening to me, are you?" "Nope. What's the next bullet, Ace?"
"Maggie has a point," - just how could he say 'Maggie' all the time with a straight face, it was unbelievable - "...but let's move on. Point four is not to get worked up over betrayal. Nobody's in their comfort zone, and even the best people might lose their handle on the situation and defect. Try to make sure people can't do too much damage if they betray your allies, but if they do, don't make a big deal out of it. Just focus on escaping with everyone willing, and making it home intact."
"And the fifth point is by far the most important!"
"Well, the fifth one is to take every chance you can to contact us back home. The communicator hidden in your collar is some of Gadge's finest work. Activate it, and we'll know where you are if you're anywhere in the known or unknown universe. If it's compromised, just search for comm stations, magic users, anything you can get your hands on."
"Do not be afraid to pray, reach out with feelings, or even use your favorite personal rituals! Remember, magic is always stronger than you think~<3," she winked. Groan.
"Not like you'll need phony sparkles and stuff with my equipment on your neck!" Magenta rolled her eyes, ~playfully~. "Your communicator has a quantum link with the Nest that uses entanglement to encode and send us vital signs, coor-" ...oh dear lord, hasn't Gadge learned by now that you neither get nor care about all this technical bullshit? "...got a geiger counter, an MP3 player, I even stuffed in a-" "Gadget." "Oh, uh, heh. Sorry. Long story short, if your communicator gives three beeps, that's the Q-fail. Means either the Nest's been destroyed, or you've been warped to a time or dimension where it doesn't even exist. Otherwise, we can find you anywhere, no problemo."
***
Freefall snapped her fingers. "Ah, that was it. The Q-fail. Three beeps. Guess we have ourselves a problemo."She sat down properly, rapping her fingers against a coffee-stained dossier on the desk. "So, let's see... this's a super tournament, so we've got our heroes, villains, and neutrals that'll go either way."
She swiped a pencil from an old coffee cup, larger than the one that'd stained her writing surface. "Alright, so we have some sorta Announcer." She scrawled the word on top of the folder, underlining it twice. "Big bad villain. Beat the shit outta him."
"In terms of contestants, we got that weird-ass Rest Inn that wants people to sleep in it so they can get loved and cuddled. Haha, sure. Wreck the place." She drew lines to the sides and top of the names so far, marking the header 'Villians'. She mighta gotten the 'i' and 'a' mixed up, she thought. Not that she really cared. "You don't enter a Hampton Inn in a death battle 'less it's got some sorta nasty infestation. Least it's flashy and easy to spot."
"Then there was Crack-something, last of her race, so might be a good guy. But cyborgs are kinda usually evil? Not sure with this one, find out later. She's probably a badass either way."
"Shadowy Painter that drives people insane. Obvious villain. Beat him into submission, tie him up."
"Greedy wizard, also obvious villain. Same policy."
"Some wizard Timothy kid and living armor, sweet. Hero. Keep away from the greedy wizard."
"Then... oh boy. That Nozzle jellyfish thing. Probably some fucking lab experiment, grows or shoots poison or mind control. Let's leave it at 'don't touch' for now."
"Then the twisted and horrifying zombie dude. I bet he's friendly! Pfff."
"So..." She stood up and got a top-down perspective on her lopsided list. "Yeah, probably can't beat that announcer just with Harry Potter and the Iron Giant. Gotta try harder to win over Crackbird, even if she turns out nutty, I guess... but then maybe we'll need magic, and I'll have to trust greed wizard? And then what if I need to bribe him or...."
She paused a moment, then loudly flipped the old desk onto its side, barely missing the dozing McMiller. Fuck it. Just play it by ear, things usually work themselves out.
She brought the black and white television crackling to life. Or maybe it was a color one, and the world was just making it gray. Whatever.
News. Flip. Star Trek Wars or some shit. Flip. Zombie flick. Flip. Some... Teletubbies knockoff? Flip. "Looks like those rookies... didn't make the cut." "Oh, pff. Another shitty CSI knockoff. Make so goddamn many of 'em, one was bound to end up h-whoa..."
The scene had cut away from Lieutenant Gladwell's office to a messy bunch of corpses on the street.
That's a lot more dead bodies than usual. And don't they usually frame away from the... guts and stuff? "Something stinks in this one."
So, uh... how do I get through this thing, anyway? I guess I just need to take my arms and, sorta...
fwop