xp_logs | NM:SYWTBAS?: Game Over (Reply)

The winners make it past the last stage, and to Arcade himself, only to discover what their prize is.

Instead of another sick stage of death traps, the exit to the insane dancing stage led into a comfortable room, with a long couch set up facing a huge flat screen television. As they came in, the door slid shut behind them, and the sounds of applause began to fill the room from hidden speakers. There was nothing for them to do but sit, and the television came on, revealing a man looking out from it. He was older, his hair the colour of a pumpkin, although streaked with lines of grey. He wore a smile, looking almost fondly out from the screen at them.

"The winners, ladies and gentlemen. Look at them, surviving jungles, runaways and the worst of lazy modern programming to get here. See, that's what reality shows don't understand, that winning a contest doesn't matter unless you do it with style." He said, his voice fast, almost hyper. "You see, I get all those channels, and it's just terrible the kinds of crap they come up with. Videogames, that's a different manner. Sure, it's a time waster, but it's also a challenge. Isn't that right, sport?" The eyes turned to Julian. "Everyone needs a challenge in life, even if it is getting to level 38 on a Screw Top flash game."

Julian shrank into his seat for a moment as everyone turned their attention to him. He deserved their ire; because of him their friends had died. "I'm sorry..." he said, his voice cracking under the weight of the boulder pressing down on his heart. "I'm so sorry. I- I didn't know." Instead of hiding himself from the other 'winners,' Julian pushed himself out of the couch and met each of their gazes in turn. In his companion's eyes he could see all of the pain, anger and sorrow he was feeling too. Finally, Julian turned back to the monitor where his hatred had a target in the form of the older, ginger man- who's red hair reminded him that Angel wasn't in the room. "You used me."

"Used is such an ugly word, Scooter. True, but ugly." Arcade grinned, chewing his gum and considering them. "Think about it this way. You all got to prove that amoungst all of them, you're the best. Doesn't that give you a warm feeling of accomplishment?"
"Ummmm yeah no," quipped Callie from her place on the couch. She was tired, sweaty, and a more little scraped up and bruised, but otherwise unharmed. The others, well she wasn't so sure about them. They had disappeared hadn't they? And this man said that they were the best. But what did that mean. She had seen Catseye, and Lil, and Wes all go down, and now they weren't here. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, her face was stone cold and blank as she stared at the television. "Your null is rejected sir. We weren't the best, we were the ones who happened to know how to play the game. There's a difference." Beat. "Where are our friends?"

"Where do you think they are, honey? You heard the screams, saw the fire traps, and the lethal drops. See, the key with any prize is to make sure the stakes are equally high. I don't want you to feel like your victory was just luck, since the prize is a life or death proposition." Arcade said, his eyes bright and almost manic. "So, who wants to know what they've won?"

"I don't care what we've won. We haven't won. You- you can't have just killed them. You can't." Even though he could. More then could. Tatiana licked her lips. "It doesn't work that way."

"My dear, this is cable television. This is exactly how it works." Arcade smiled wickedly. Behind him, scenes from the traps began to play, showing various friends losing in the challenges, being caught out and eliminated from competition. "Superheros. I know everyone is supposed to say mutants; it's that, what do you call it? Political correctness crap. But superheros. Larger than life, there to challenge the forces of evil, and to get it all on camera?"

Arcade's face disappeared from the screen, replaced with pencil sketches of outfits, vehicles, logos. They saw their own faces depicted in heroic poses in gaudy outfits running through the streets, leaping from rooftops. "Think about it. A chance to clean up the streets, even the country, with every technological advantage behind you. Unlimited funding, individual transportation. What's that, Mister President? Magneto is blowing up the Chrysler building? Our team will get right on it! The three best, the three cream of the crop, now America's newest heroes, loved by millions, watched by millions. Children lined up to buy your poster, action figure, sugary cereal with those little marshmallows shaped like your logo or something!" The television clicked back to Arcade, who spread his hands wide. "So kids, what do you say?"

For a fraction of a second, Julian considered taking the offer- it was what he always wanted...but not like this. After that second, the warm anger he had been feeling went away and replaced itself with a cold rage. "You put us through all of this- this- this SHIT?! Because you want us to be part of some sort of..." Julian's hands were shaking as his eyes started to glow a light green. "You son of a-" he did complete the sentence, but the final word was cut short by the sound of an LCD monitor being repeatedly crushed against the wall, surrounded by a green luminescence.

Without even realizing it, Julian was on his feet; his anger was in control of his body for that moment. He'd never been so angry- it simply wasn't proper in the circles he had been raised in- and this ginger villain had given him more than enough reason to get to this point. Unlike the others, he had no trouble believing his friends and teachers were dead. Having everyone he knew taken away from him the previous fall had hardened him to loss, more than he'd realized until this point. Julian fell back onto the comfortable padding of his seat, feeling a bit better, looking at the destroyed TV on the floor. "I say no." He looked to his companions, "Either of you want to take him up on it?"

Note to self, don't make Julian angry Callie instructed herself as she watched the boy flare up and take on the television. Seriously though, was this guy crazy? He wanted a group of kids to act out some weird hero fantasy he had, and what, live vicariously through them? And market their likenesses? "I'm gonna have to go with Julian on this one," she was far calmer than her classmate, at least on the outside. "So no. In a million years no."

"What? No." She stared at the screen incredulously, her eyes flicking to Julian and Callie. There was no way- No.

No. This whole thing-

Just- No.

With the refusal from all three of them, Arcade's voice sounded a little surprised, although without the television, they couldn't be sure. "A chance to fight the good fight, public adoration, and cool logos? You sure you really want to let that go? Well, I'm very disappointed, and that means I only have one solution, considering all you've seen and know."
The lights flickered ominously. There was a crackle and his voice filled the room again. "I guess this is goodbye. Well, thanks for all the fun."

They might have been expected the worst, but all that happened was a door on the east wall, and through the door, they could see their friends in small cells, seemingly safe.

Julian rushed from his seat, vaulting over one of the other couches, "Oh my god! Are you guys okay?" Once inside the new room he quickly spotted Angel and hurried over to unlatch her now unlocked cage. He gave her a quick look, expressing what could only be described as relief mixed with joy and thankfulness that she was alright, better than he could have with words. With Angel out, Julian moved on to the next cage, trying to let Inez out and fumbling with the complex mechanism. "Glad you're safe," he said with a smile, trying to force the bar which had obviously been designed to resist super strength.

Finally Julian resorted to his powers and the bar slid, slowly out of the way. With Inez out and helping something occurred to him which made Julian take a quick count of the rest of the cells as he did. Two people were missing, "Where's Yvette and Mister Beaubier?" Before anyone could answer, the sound of a small thud echoed in the distance, followed by a slight shudder that shook the walls of the room.
A small shudder traveled down her body as Callie confirmed Julian's question. Neither the young Albanian nor their Quebecois professor were in any of the cages. There was a lump in her throat, and a sinking feeling in her stomach. That man, he wouldn't have killed them, would he? With the muffled noise and the shaking of the walls, there wasn't time to think. She ran over to the closest cell and started to work on the latch.

Tatiana couldn't focus on who wasn't there, even though it ate at her. She was undoing Zanne's cage, hand slipping on the metal four times until she managed to get it open, before going to the next. They're not dead. They're not dead, they're fine. They're all fine. She had to focus on that - and once they were all set free, she'd worry about those who were still missing.

Wordlessly Angel appeared in front of the cage that was holding Catseye and grabbed at two of the bars. “Scootch back a bit, okay, Cats?” she said as blue flames ran up and down two of the bars. She concentrated on superheating the metal, turning the formerly unbendable bars into pliable holds under her hand. Angel planted a foot on a bar to her left and heaved; the weakened bars coupled with her greater strength and allowed her to pull them almost cleanly from the floor and ceiling.

"It's about fucking time," Lil said to her savior with a smile and a pat on the shoulder after her door had been opened. "Damn bars wouldn't bend." She shot a quick smile at Callie to assure the girl she was okay and glad to see her before jerking her head towards the way that should lead out. "Not to break up the happy reunion party but we gotta get a move on, folks," the giantess suggested, grabbing the two closest students then shoving them in the direction of what she hoped was freedom. "Haul ass, people."

Tossing the trash aside, Tatiana tilted her head and took a whiff of the air. Smoke. And not the smoke that she’d just generated. “We need to get out of here right now,” Angel called, bounding over to where Julian was. “Julian, I smell fire – we pretty hurry.” Despite the drying blood on her face and the terror she’d been experiencing, she felt some much needed calm settle over her. This was something she knew how to deal with.

Find Yvette and Mr. Beaubier and get the hell out of there. Freak out later.

Zanne quickly followed Lil's suit once she was free of the cell. "Everyone out of here now!" She called, quickly tracing down the line of cells to make sure no-one was left behind and urging the remaining students to hurry out. "Tat, you're in charge of a head count once you're outside. Make sure we get everyone."

Waiting wasn't his strong suit to start with and the fact that they were in the middle of an exploding building didn't help matters. "If you don't mind ladies?!" Julian tried to shout, his voice was nearly drowned out by the roar of the approaching fireball.

Finally reaching outside into the fresh New England air, Julian collapsed to his knees, out of breath. He turned his head and watched with everyone else as the building fell behind them, the entire strip mall collapsing in on itself. The explosions were only soft rumbles at this point, but the ginger bastard had probably rigged them to destroy everything. Julian looked around at everyone, people were holding one another, looking each other over and making sure everyone was okay.

***

The very tips of Yvette's spiked hair were pressing into his shoulder, but Jean-Paul couldn't have been more grateful for the girl's hardened, razor-sharp skin as they raced through the stark corridors. The speeds they were moving at would have left any less durable passenger suffering damage from air friction; if they'd been moving
slower, they would have already been taken out by blasts or falling debris as Murderworld disintegrated around them.

It was difficult not to bury her face against Jean-Paul's body to hide from the sight of the building tumbling down around them, but Yvette wasn't about to injure their only chance of escape. Instead she clung on as tightly as she could without causing him damage, wondering briefly if this was what Jane had felt like when the building had collapsed. A small whimper escaped her as they shot through the air.

Their race was dizzying with no room for error; seconds after they sped down a corridor, muffled explosions and clouds of dust and debris made turning back impossible. Rounding the corner to a twisted blockade of metal and wires caused by an upper level caving in the corridor made Jean-Paul's heart drop, even as he braked to a halt, eyes flicking desperately over the aptly named dead-end. There was a narrow gap at the top of the wreckage, just enough for a small girl to slip through. He set Yvette down, jerking his head toward the opening.

"Hurry up. Run."

Yvette did, but instead of squeezing through the gap, she began burrowing through the debris, slashing away at it with long sweeping motions of her talons. Desperation and determination had hardened her skin to almost its full extent and plaster and wood were scattered in splinters around her. Metal was more difficult, but at last she had made a big enough tunnel through the blockage for Jean-Paul to squeeze through, although it would be a very tight fit. "Hurry!" she called, turning back to her teacher. "There is the fresh air on the other side!"

Jean-Paul climbed up the debris behind her swiftly, slipping through just as the walls behind them came down in smoke and fire. Yvette was in his arms again in a moment and they were racing for daylight.

"There!" she pointed, eyes slitted against the wind, towards a small group of people huddling together watching the building implode. "Is that... Our friends, they are safe, yes?"

Even as she spoke, they were out into open air and hovering over the parking lot.

"They seem to be no worse off than we are, anyway." Scraped, ragged, and filthy, but not badly injured. Jean-Paul landed next to the group, coming down gingerly on his bare feet. "Is everyone all right?"

From where Angel had been, surprisingly or not, clinging to Julian's hand quite tightly, she let out a cry and tore away from the comfort she'd sought as they'd fled. "Yvette!" she called and skidded her way towards her roommate. An instant before she collided with the other girl flames erupted around her and then she threw her arms around Yvette in a hug; it was the only way Angel could safely touch her. Considering what they'd all just gone through, a little effort went a long way.

Yvette returned the hug, clinging to her roommate. "You are okay, yes?" she said, although the force of the hug was proof of that. "It is being over?"

Julian felt Angel's hand leave his and looked back to see Angel wreathed in flames, the word 'Whoa' came to mind. He looked around at everyone; people were holding one another, looking each other over and making sure everyone was okay. The strangers were gone, having taken off when they'd finally got outside. He leaned back against the van and rested, recounting all the terrors of the past afternoon.

Still, the day hadn't been a total loss, they had worked as a team, more or less, and everyone was- though a little worse for wear and mentally scarred- okay. Julian looked over at Angel and smiled slightly, he had been truly worried when she 'died'- more so than with the others. He was both relieved and happy that she was okay. He turned back toward the rubble of the mall and an odd thought entered his mind. It wasn't any of the promises he'd made to himself today or the guilt that he would soon be feeling over putting them all through this nightmare. All Julian could think to say was, "You know...reality TV sucks."