The Prisoners: Fight the Tarrasque

[Ander]

Ander growled with his swords poised at the ready, as he and the changeling valiantly attacked the enormous maw of the tarrasque. Iceman demonstrated a greater proficiency in his weapons handling, wielding his wicked twin axes with grace and ferocity. Ander struck at the beast’s marble blue eye, meeting with surprisingly little success. He channeled as much Adhesive ki into his feet as possible, feeling a bit like he was riding a mechanical bull and increasing the difficulty of scoring anything better than a glancing blow to the frustratingly impervious hide. The thief tried then digging beneath the eye, as if he were using a dagger to pop a stubborn jewel out of its encasement. This, too, proved ineffective. The monster took a quick swipe at its face, trying to dislodge the thief and the icer. Ander pushed off in an arcing back flip, landing smoothly on the ground, and Iceman quickly followed suit.

Alexander’s eyes glittered with realization, and once the pair leapt out of harm’s way, he released his flurry of kinetically charged swords, twitchy fingers delightfully squeezing the triggers of his gold-plated Desert Eagles. The blades struck the tarrasque in a ring of death, the bullets ricocheting harmlessly away as if they bounced against a wall of reinforced steel. It unleashed a roar of anger and discontent with the assault, and then, miraculously, Alex’s attack did what none others had achieved thus far: the swords scratched the beast’s leathery carapace. No blood flowed, but it proved that the creature could indeed be harmed. The blades then exploded in a fiery eruption of energy as the street entertainer detonated them, and little tiny pieces of shrapnel fell to the ground. Interestingly, the bits fizzled like bad television static, and reformed into their original shapes. They briefly emanated a black glow before resuming normal appearance, and at the same time, the same glow resonated on the scrapes on its hide and then disappeared as quickly as it had come about.

“There’s something different about these weapons,” Iceman concluded quickly, his sharp mind analyzing the occurrence. “The more we attack with them, the weaker this thing should get!”

“You sure about that?” Ander asked, shooting the changeling a sidelong glance.

“Positive,” the horned man replied with a firm nod.

“Then let’s get to it, Ice,” the thief agreed. “Need a lift?”

“It’s Szar,” the changeling said. He propelled from the ground and landed onto Ander’s shoulders, three toes gripping on surprisingly tightly.

“Alley-oop!”

Ander used his Super Leaping to carry the two of them back up to the monster’s face. At precisely the right time, without any instruction, Szar pushed off of the thief’s shoulders and resumed his respective side, the two melee fighters preparing to do battle again. Both immediately and correctly zeroed in on the weak spots of the tarrasque caused by Alex’s impressively dangerous sword attack, intending to aggravate the shallow scores further. The redhead, in the meantime, collected the swords up again, taking a deep drag on his cigarette as he aimed once more and readied himself to fire, working together in perfect harmony. It made Ander glad that they were on the same side this time as he briefly recalled the Armani-clad youth chasing him down relentlessly in their deadly dogfight.

Sage stood next to Alex, biding her time and saving her energy for when it would be needed most. She briefly contemplated running towards the pile of armaments to secure her own weapon, and wondered exactly what type of weapon would fit someone like her. The addict distanced herself a bit from Trafford, more than a little wounded by his aggressive words, but still certain that it resulted from him suffering as much as anyone else here, and even his harsh comments did not deter the unusual bond they had shared over his death.

However, with the tarrasque thrashing about – having felt pain, even in its smallest measurement – Szar and Ander were in danger of being smashed to bits in their daring yet foolish feat. She drew in a deep breath, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she coalesced as much moisture in the air as she possibly could, a daunting task in such a dry and unbearably hot atmosphere. The girl unleashed an angry torrent of ice, aiming for directly under the rampaging beast as the immediate vicinity was consumed by her cryokinetic influence. It faltered short of the attack’s ultimate potential, but it seemed to work. Unfortunately, in her strung-out and exhausted state, her attack misfired, originating much closer than she intended. In the midst of the confusion, a blizzard briefly swallowed Alexander and Sage, obscuring them from sight.

Ander felt a chill slither down his spine, and his body almost immediately shivered as the Arctic Wrath approached their location, submerging the area in a most uncomfortable temperature dip. Szar, having grown up in cold weather, merely shrugged off the sudden and unexpected change in weather. Ander, unfortunately, was born and bred for excruciatingly heated environments. His uncontrollable shaking caused him to lose his balance, and although he tried to hold on, he ultimately slipped and plummeted into a snow bank, losing his swords in the process. He crawled along the frost, dragging himself away from the tarrasque.

In the process, he saw a woman with blond hair approach, armed with a mace and a dagger, an unusual combination if he didn’t say so himself. The thief stood, wishing he had a weapon, but simply flashed a smile and hoped for the best.

“Come to join the fray?” he asked in a friendly tone, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. After a second, he recognized her as the woman who had been next to Sage when he spied in the mansion window.

Her cold blue eyes scoured his features for a moment. “Of course,” she eventually replied. “After all, I am the strongest one here.”

Ander repressed the urge to cock an eyebrow in the open display of arrogance. This meeting wasn’t starting out too well at all. “Feel free to take a whack at it with that little toy of yours, then.”

The woman held herself with a rigid, refined poise. “Don’t underestimate me.”

The thief chuckled, maintaining his composure despite the doubly frosty atmosphere – from both the blond and the Arctic Wrath. He put his hands up in surrender. “I have no intention of doing so, even for someone as good looking as yourself. Name’s Ander, by the way.”

She paused a moment, as if his name came as no surprise. “Xenia,” she replied curtly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go defeat that monster.”

With that, Xenia marched off, as if she were the most important person in the world. Ander stared after her, doing his best to hide his expression of disgust.

Wow, what a bitch. A little common courtesy wouldn’t kill you.

Then, a light bulb went off in his head. Sage had mentioned her sister’s name was Xenia, and it instantly clicked. After all, the physical resemblance should have made it pretty obvious, right? This befuddled Ander even further, almost to the point where his jaw dropped to the floor in amazement.

HER?! That’s Sage’s sister?

The truth of the fact absolutely blew him away.

Over the next twelve minutes or so, he contented himself with watching the fray, unable to participate in the blizzard, and simply replaced his lost weapons with a pair of long daggers, one of which he concealed in his boot and the other he tucked into his belt. The intrepid group of Xenia, Szar, Alex, and presumably Sage managed to turn the tarrasque into a different direction, although the beast crushed most of the ice witch’s glacial structures and seemed to negate the presence of her blizzard as what typically would have remained for a couple of hours melted away.

Ander finally managed to locate her, the blue-haired girl standing apart from the others, likely due to overexerting herself in the fray.

And that’s when everything started to go wrong.

He tried to play it cool, play it smooth, but somehow, Xenia had found out about Sage’s secret, and she was livid. At first, the blond hybrid approached it in a manner that Ander found remarkably similar to his own; she softly tiptoed up to the subject and then blindsided Sage with a direct confrontation. The thief had to play his cards right, or he’d screw up his position as the doctor’s confidante, and then he’d lose everything he worked so painstakingly hard for without seeing any payoff whatsoever. If she wasn’t crazy, she had knowledge of the future, and even better, she was a gilded member of a royal family. That was motivation enough.

Ander watched silently, truthfully unsure of just what to do, as Xenia verbally and physically dragged the truth out of an emotionally distraught and unbelievably submissive Sage. Her own sister. It only further proved to Ander that if you couldn’t even trust your own family, then whom could you trust? Nobody.

As quickly as Xenia aggressively confronted Sage, the blond turned on the thief, determining him as a dangerous loose end in need of trimming. He was caught off guard by her psychokinesis, and would have likely succumbed to it had Sage not intervened on his behalf. She produced a tube of pills, surprising the nomad. Where did she get it, and if she had what she so desperately wanted, why hadn’t she used them until now?

At that moment, Ander made a judgment call by deciding Xenia couldn’t be assuaged by simple words. He used an opportunity of distraction, going after her with a dagger. Sage saw him before her twin did, and alerted her sister to impending danger. The blond princess swiftly dodged, and Sage jumped between them to prevent further escalating violence.

“Get out of my way, Sage,” he growled. Xenia had openly threatened him, and made an undeniably direct attempt on his life. That seemed to be the name of the game these days: kill or be killed. He suddenly hated Bardock even more than he had before.

“This is all your fault Sage; now Ander has to die because of your incompetence. I’m going to slice him into pieces. Unless he can regenerate himself which I highly doubt, even you won’t be unable to heal him.”

The cyan-haired girl could stand in the way all she wanted, but it wasn’t her call anymore.

Before anyone could react, Xenia lunged forward, weapon poised, and she buried it into Sage’s body, ruthlessly shoving her out of the way. Ander’s mouth dropped agape, his eyes widening at the complete and total coldness of the maneuver. What was even worse, is that now their situations were reversed: she was lying wounded on the ground, and he was in the position of power. Only, in his case, he was helpless; he had no way to heal her. With Xenia still moving forward, he didn’t really have any time to think about it as he dodged her next thrust. He sidestepped and popped Xenia in the mouth with his fist.

“What kind of sick person does that?” he accused.

Although, could he really say he wouldn’t have done the same? If he wanted something so badly, needed to protect himself so strongly… wouldn’t he have willingly sacrificed someone else to get it? Didn’t he do that already? It appeared Xenia and Ander certainly had a couple of things in common.

The situation only got stranger after that. The two both positioned themselves in an even draw, blades poised at the other’s throat, and paused their skirmish as they both noticed the injured and bloodied Sage’s image blur, as if somebody poorly adjusted the resolution on a picture. And then she vanished altogether. Ander and Xenia remained steadfast in the wake of this shocking turn of events, made even more shocking as another “Sage” rushed towards them, her face frozen in pure confusion and terror to see her sister and the thief locked in mortal combat.

“Wh-what’s going on?!” she demanded breathlessly, her coral eyes riveting from face to face.

“I could ask the same!” Xenia retorted.

“Oh, you know Xenia, just messing with you again, as usual,” Gamer’s voice snickered all around them.

Ander was perhaps the most lost of them all, still not having figured out they were inside a virtual simulation.

“I made a copy of your sister’s avatar. I wanted to see how much I could provoke you,” Keith laughed. “And now that I have, let’s see how the scenario will play out a second time, shall we?”

Without warning, a blast of force blew Ander and Xenia apart, sending them slamming into the sand with a sizeable distance between them.

“…Xenia? …Ander?” Sage mumbled, seeking an answer to her obvious bewilderment.

“This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t have to explain myself a second time!” Xenia growled. She glowered at her sister, getting to her feet and marching forward. “You, sister dear, have taken Valium behind my back, and told this cretin about it, and not me, the closest person to you. Even worse than that, you broke your promise and told him our secret! Does that about cover it?”

Sage immediately looked towards Ander, and it was written all over her face that she had no idea how Xenia had found any of this out when it had transpired so shortly ago.

“If you insist on denying it again, I’ll have to repeat my earlier methods. You shouldn’t even bother; it’s already been confirmed,” Xenia said.

She looked back and forth between the two, a partially constructed lie sputtering to the tip of her tongue. “I… I don’t… I…. would never…” Nothing more produced from that train of thought, and the girl locked eyes with the thief once more, almost as if accusing him. He understood almost immediately.

“I didn’t break my promise,” he assured.

Then her expression turned to one of pleading, as if she silently begged him to give her an out.

“Ander…” she murmured.

This too, he understood. The dune dweller weighed his decision carefully, knowing that if he helped cover for her now, it would increase her trust in him. But if he assisted her in the lie, he’d be condoning an unhealthy act he simply could not allow to continue. Ander stared back with heavy resolve, and shook his head. He couldn’t give her the out. And it was for Sage’s benefit, not Xenia’s.

Thus, the addict was forced to pay the piper. Tears started to roll freely down her flushed cheeks

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice cracking with flooding emotion. “Please, Xenia, please forgive me.”

Xenia was anything but forgiving as she advanced. “You hid this from me.”

“I never meant for any of this to happen…” Sage implored, sinking weakly to her knees in the sand.

“You told him. You didn’t tell me.”

“…I don’t know how to explain any of it, but I’m so sorry, Xenia…”

“You broke our promise.”

“…please don’t be angry with me… I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Ander watched the sickening display, morbidly wondering how in the world Xenia learned to produce such immediate and profound results. Still, he had trouble stomaching her aggressive nature, as he preferred to attract flies with honey rather than vinegar. Sage was completely and utterly broken, and even worse, begging as if her entire world was crumbling around her. The thief… had no idea what he was supposed to do.

“So now I’m going to finish what I started with your friend,” Xenia concluded.

The saiyan woman changed directions and launched herself at Ander, blade poised. The thief smirked in spite of himself.

Don’t try to use metal on me.

With a flick of his wrist, he had hold of her weapon, and wrenched it out of her grasp, causing her to momentarily stop her advance in surprise. The armament flew into his hand, and the blue-eyed bandit pointedly melted it in his hands, liquid steel dripping into the sand as he completely destabilized its structure.

Then his face cautioned an expression of warning. “I understand you’re upset right now, but this is not the time or the place for this. Do you want to be caught off guard by Magnus or that freak thing stomping around over there? Do you want Gamer to pull some hocus pocus on us in the middle of a fight?”

“I’ll finish you before anyone has a chance to intervene,” Xenia stated confidently.

“Listen, I don’t want to fight you. Not here and not now. But I’m telling you, Xenia, if you hit me, I will hit you back,” Ander threatened. “And don’t think just because you caught me off guard the first time that I’m a pushover, because you’ll be in for one hell of a ride.”

It was unusual for him to get so worked up over something like this. Normally he liked to verbally jab at his opponents, throw them off balance, or even to just make sport of it. But somehow, Xenia just wasn’t the right person for that. She wouldn’t accept anything less than an equal challenge, and he wasn’t about to let her walk all over him, especially with that attitude. For all of their similarities, and all of the qualities she had demonstrated he had seen in himself, she was still the same as everyone else, a high-and-mighty who thought she was better than everyone else, and she needed to be taken down a peg… or ten.

“Stop it, both of you!” Sage cried, looking as though she would tear in two at any moment.

“She started it, and I have every right to defend myself,” Ander shook his head. And then he realized just what a perfect opportunity this was to try and drive a wedge between them, and when he survived – he didn’t want to think about if he didn’t – Sage was going to need a crying shoulder, and his was already broken in. “Besides, for somebody who is supposed to care about you, she sure doesn’t act like it. Seems to me like it’s your problem, Xenia, not Sage’s.”

“Who do you think you are?” Xenia snorted. “You may know our secret, but that doesn’t mean you know anything about me or my sister.”

“I know I offered an alternative to this fight, and you didn’t take it, despite the obvious state your sister is in,” Ander pointed out. “And by the way, when I found out, I didn’t try to make her feel like shit for it. Why don’t you try acting like you care about her for once?”

“I care about her, more than anybody else does. But don’t worry. I’ll fix this once you’re out of the picture,” the blond assured.

“Xenia, NO!” Sage shouted. “Ander, don’t…”

“I’m rectifying a situation you failed to handle,” Xenia said, ignorant to her pleas. “So don’t get any ideas about stepping in.”

“Leave her out of this. It’s me you want,” Ander taunted.