[02] Sinking Ship!

[Kill Town]

Sinking Ship

5-player Cooperative Event

Summary: Players are transported to a giant cruise ship called the Titanic. It is early in the morning hours and said ship has just hit by an iceberg and is rapidly sinking. Contestants have to survive the ensuing anarchy amongst passengers, the violent officers, and the horrifying impending doom of sinking into a freezing Northern Atlantic.

Restrictions: None

Opportunity: N/A

Participants:

• Alexander Trafford
• Kaden
• Sophia
• Victoria
• Sage

[Victoria]

“Here’s your tea, Mrs. Victoria,” the man set her tea down at the small table. She watched him quietly, absorbing the atmosphere and change of events. It had happened instantaneously, she found herself sitting in this lavish room with a man serving her tea, just like that. Victoria picked at her dress; the garb was not what she typically wore. It was an old style of wear, a long gown with frilly bits and a low cut around her bust, strapless. As elegant was it was, she did not feel comfortable. Not one to refuse free food or drink, she nodded to the gentleman in the suit and glanced at the table.

“Anything else, madam?” he asked, watching her gaze at the beautiful delights on the silver platter.

“I’d fancy three cubes o’ sugar, if that’s alright.” She replied, and then held a dainty hand to her mouth. The words had come out to say what she wanted, but in a way she did not intend. Not only did she speak formally, but her voice had warped beyond usual, becoming accented strangely. “I, well, I don’t feel so well.” She held a hand to her brow and looked around the room frantically.

“Yes, the news has shaken us all. I’m sure the captain and the engineers will have it all sorted out. No need to worry.” The man said, his cool voice attempting to calm her. “We’ll be in New York on schedule, I’m sure of it.” He sounded optimistic, but she could see sweat begin to form on his face.

“Good sir, I believe you might be right, but please, explain the problem once more?” she implored, looking up from her seat.

“Yes, of course,” he bowed shortly. “The RMS Titanic as been struck by an iceberg and the captain has instructed all of the passengers to remain calm and wait for further instruction. I’m sure they’re handling it well, but you see, a panic wouldn’t do well for the captain and his crew right now.” He chuckled nervously.

“Do we know the extent of the damage, is it repairable?” she asked, shifting slightly in her seat.

“Oh, well, they have yet to say. I only know rumors, but they say there’s been a slight leak, nothing to worry about I’m sure.” He waved a hand nonchalantly. “I would enjoy your tea and wait for further word.” He added, gesturing to her tea.

“I think I need to use the levy.” She said and stood from her seat. She headed towards the door, and the man interrupted her.

“The washroom is over there,” he pointed across the room, and she hesitated.

“I don’t like that one, I’m going to find another.” She stuck her nose in the air like the upper-class she was and exited the room. The man stammered a response, an attempt to make her stay, but she hitched up the beautiful gown and began to jog down the hall away from her would-be captor.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” she asked aloud, her accent surprising her once more. She didn’t enjoy this, not one bit. The dress made her movement clumsy, her hair was done the wrong way, and her voice was not her own. “I’d rather be killing something.” She muttered and turned down the hall.

A low groan filled the ship; it sent a chill down her spine. He said there was an accident, and this is a ship. What if the accident was a lot worse than the rumors? Could the ship be sinking? She wondered, having slowed to a walk now. She adjusted the top of her dress, afraid that certain assets would be out of place. This is some twisted game. She narrowed her eyes and followed the sound of talking.

“This ship isn’t sinkable, it’s going to be fine.” A whispered voice said.

“You didn’t hear the engineers, they’re having a heyday. This is going to end badly, we should get ourselves to the rowboats before there’s a panic.” Another voice replied.

Victoria started down the steps, two men stood talking at the bottom of the first set, and they were wearing uniforms. They stopped when they saw her coming down the stairs.

“Sorry, Miss, can’t let you down here.” They straightened and blocked her way.

“Why not?” she demanded, clenching her fists tightly. To them she was a rich brat not getting her way, but she was hardly a brat, or rich.

“Orders, Miss, now get back to your room until the situation has been handled.” He replied and crossed his arms. His partner looked down, and then to the side nervously.

“I heard what you said, I’m not stupid. I’m not staying holed up in that room anymore, you’re letting me by, or you’ll regret it.” She said, looking down at them with a certain air. What the hell, why am I acting like a prissy bitch? It must be this dress, and this place. She surmised.

“Just let her pass, Danny, what’s the harm?” the nervous worker cut in.

“Order’s are orders, if we let people past, it could start a mess we don’t need right now.” He replied to his friend.

“Look, fella’s, I’m not about to start trouble,” she held up her hands. “I’m nothin’ but a girl needing to stretch her legs. Just let me buy, and I won’t say a word.” She winked and used her smooth accent to charm the boys. They both looked at each other, and then at her.

“You’ll head back to your room soon, then? You’re just taking a quick stroll?” The first man asked, still unsure about letting her past.

“Yeah, yeah, of course! I’m a lady, I wouldn’t lie to you ‘gents.” She smiled warmly, and stepped further down the steps.

“We’ll come looking for you in ten, Miss, don’t you worry.” The nervous worker replied, bowing his head. “Wouldn’t want’cha getting lost, not with the crisis and all.” He motioned for her to pass. His friend still doubted the idea, but didn’t say a word as Victoria walked by.

“Sweet boy, I’ll remember you.” She touched his cheek with her hand, making him blush, and she proceeded down the second set of stairs.

Shit, great job they’re doing. Guys get all gooey over a girl, don’t they? She shook her head and hurried down the stairs. The stairs led into another hall, which led to a large ballroom. She stopped just short of entering, gripping the dress in her hands. She had to find out what was going on with the ship, which would mean checking the engine room herself, or finding the captain. “First I’ll find a map, I’m sure there’s one somewhere around here.” She said, muttering in her accent. She entered the large extravagant room and hurried towards the other side, the sooner she figured out the game, the better.

[Kaden]

There were some threats that were easy to take seriously: a gun being pointed in your face, a car swerving dangerously about the road, a mindless drove of zombies shambling your way. Kaden was discovering that there were also some threats that were much more difficult to give the weight they deserved. Being trapped in a carnival with a handful of friends you hadn’t seen in a long while, waiting to be whisked off to some bizarre mini-game just happened to be one of them.

While he still felt queezy from the ride, the courier did his best to put up a collected front with his friends present. He had a difficult time not being irritated at Szar, who’s idea of fun involved rocking the Ferris Wheel bench until they had all been staring straight down at the ground. Additionally, Kaden was completely unable to look at Piper after the ride, having latched onto her in fear of falling from the ride itself. A strong moment.

To her slight chagrin, Piper had regaled Szar and Kaden with a recounting of her anti-zombie endeavor at the courier’s prompting. Also at Kaden’s request, the Icer had explained the bizarre circumstances that had lead to him being captured by playing cards, rescued from a cage by a vanished cat – who also talked – and finally beset by another army of cards that had spawned from thin air. The courier found that particularly interesting, since, to him, it demonstrated Gamer’s ability to manipulate their surroundings at will. Not a good thing.

While it would have been nice for Kaden to brag more about besting a universal badass, he didn’t have a whole lot more to say on the subject. Fortunately, Szar’s body went rigid so abruptly that he would have interrupted himself anyway. He followed the changeling’s gaze to find a one-eyed saiyan walking towards the trio. While he immediately recognized the man, his search for the proper name turned up nothing.

“Friend of yours?” the courier asked his alien ally.

“Not exactly,” Szar mumbled back. “Remember him from Friend or Foe?”

That was where Kaden had seen the saiyan. As he thought on it more, he realized that Friend or Foe had also been where he originally met both Piper and Szar. An interesting coincidence, if it actually was one. The courier didn’t really want to think that some cosmic force was simply out to get the same group of people time after time.

“Long time no see,” Orion said as he came to stop a few feet away from the small group.

“Not long enough,” Szar replied, obviously not thrilled about the saiyan’s presence.

“No arguments here, lizard.” Turning his eye from the Icer, he regarded Piper, and then Kaden. “See you’re still alive and kicking.”

“Can’t say the same for you, huh?” Kaden made an attempt at humor as he indicated the halo above Orion’s head. When it landed flat, he cleared his throat. “But at least I’m sure you’re still kicking plenty hard.”

While it looked like Orion had something to say in response, a flash of bubble-gum pink caught the courier’s attention. Shifting his focus away from the man standing before him, he caught sight of Ashe, making her way towards the ferris wheel they were still standing under. So far, Kaden was shocked to recognize everyone he had come across during his stay in Gamer’s event. It was a bizarre feeling indeed.

“Ashe! Over here!” the courier called out to her.

Perking up at the sound of her name, the girl scanned her surroundings until her eyes fell upon the jacket-clad arm of the courier, waving high above his head. Before making her way towards the growing group, the girl turned and seemed to wave to someone behind her. Curiously, Kaden watched for who it was. When it turned out to be Ander, he physically winced. There was the briefest moment of hesitation in the thief’s gait as he and the courier locked eyes.

“Heya!” the girl called back as she got closer.

“Ok, so,” Kaden began. “Piper, Szar, and… uh…”

“Orion,” the saiyan added in an annoyed monotone.

“Yeah, Orion. That’s Ashe,” he finished as the girl neared. “And Ashe, that’s Orion, Piper, and Szar.” When Ander noisily cleared his throat, the courier sighed. “And he’s Ander, I guess.”

“So,” the desert-dweller immediately picked up. “Robots?”

“Yeah,” Kaden answered. “An army of ‘em.”

“An army?” Ander nodded. “Sounds rough. I wouldn’t have had a problem if I hadn’t had to protect someone. That’s tricky business.”

“Tell me about it. I had to help two people escape and then provide a distraction,” the courier countered, embellishing his story slightly. “Of course that wouldn’t have been much of a problem if I hadn’t just finished fighting a murderous saiyan outlaw and a recently resurrected martial artist trained by masters in the afterlife.”

Not one to be bested, Ander opened his mouth, but was unable to say anything before a chorus of electronics buzzes, beeps, and chirps filled the air. Each “player’s” pager signaled the beginning of a new round, and each player’s face seemed to display a unique expression. Everything from annoyance, to apprehension, to curiosity made an appearance as they all checked the screens on the small devices, searching to gleam any amount of information from them.

“Sinking ship,” Kaden read the name of his event out loud before looking around the group.

“Ice Climbers.” “Perform for Gamer.” “Ice Climbers.” “Perform for Gamer.” “Ice Climbers.”

They all answered at once. Closing his eyes for a moment, the courier mentally sorted the jumble of words, then frowned. He was the odd man out. After his last adventure in single-handedly battling ridiculously over-powered opponents, he had hoped that a friendly face would be by his side for the next one. Kaden did take of a modicum of satisfaction from the fact that he wouldn’t be paired up with Ander, at the very least.

Before any more discussion could be had about their events, three portals appeared. Unlike the last portal Kaden had entered, his new one had a flashing neon sign above it that read “Sinking Ship.” Looking around, he realized that each portal was labeled for their convenience. At the very least, Kaden appreciated Gamer’s efficiency. Why open six portals when three would do the job just as well. Wanting to get the next ordeal over with as quickly as possible, Kaden sighed and turned to the rest of the group.

“Well, good luck everyone. Be careful out there.”

And with that, he was off.

***

“Get outta the way, dumbass!” was the first thing Kaden heard.

The second and third things were indistinguishable as a large, burly man practically knocked him over as he ran by and then smacked the courier upside the head with a coal shovel as he made a quick turn down a hallway. Reeling from the unexpected blow, it the courier quite a while to figure out what was going on. He had been taken out of his normal attire and dressed in a manner that seemed to fit his surroundings. Above the waist he wore only a white tank-top – which, thankfully, managed to cover the scar on his chest – and a pair of suspenders. Below the waist, the suspenders held up a pair of what could only be described as trousers, and surprisingly sturdy work boots.

Casting a glance at his surroundings, and going by the name of the event, the courier assumed he had been dropped in the middle of a large engine room. Far too many people, most dressed almost identically to Kaden, scurried about yelling at one another and just generally creating a ruckus. The din was so overbearing that Kaden found himself slipping backwards out of the room and taking a moment to compose himself.

Whatever was going on, the other people on the ship definitely seemed to be panicking. That was bad sign number one. That the name of the event included the word “sinking” was bad sign number two. He tried to get the attention of nearby workers, but each of them told him to either get back to work, shut up, or simply go to hell. Reasonable responses if ever he’d heard any. The only helpful thing he heard anyone say didn’t come until he physically stopped them by wrapping his hand around the arm and pulling them in his direction.

“Hey!” the courier had to yell in order to be heard. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Look, moron,” the man batted Kaden’s hand away. “You wanna pretend like nothing’s happening just do us a favor and go upstairs. At least those spoiled pricks are outta our way.”

Upstairs, the courier thought. At the very least, he hoped he’d be able to hear himself think. Nodding, Kaden turned and began making his way through the ship. It took several minutes for him to find any kind of stairway and, thankfully, it seemed to take him in the direction he wanted to go. As he ran up the stairs, though, he ran into an unexpected opportunity. A woman was making her way down the stairs as quickly as Kaden was hurrying up them. The two practically ran into each other before coming to a stop.

“I’d like very much to get by,” the woman said in a surprisingly thick accent.

“You sure?” the courier-turned-ship-worker asked. Even through the accent, the forced politeness was blatant.

“Why would I say that if I wasn’t?” the girl quickly countered.

Tilting his head, the courier looked her up and down. She shifted her weight uncomfortably underneath the frills of her dress and her posture indicated she was used to entirely different situations. They way her fists immediately clenched at his resistance led Kaden to believe that she wasn’t in the mood to be held up. Likely she never was. Regardless, he had to admire the way she wore that particular… cut of her dress.

“Not sure,” he replied, keeping his thoughts to himself. “People say stupid stuff when they’re panicking.”

“Do I look like I’m panicking?” the girl placed one hand on her hip and motioned with the other, as though daring the worker to find a hint of panic anywhere on her.

“Actually you don’t. But if you’re trying to blend in, you probably should.” Kaden extended a hand to the girl. “Kaden. I’m in Gamer’s…. game, also.”

Taking a moment to look the courier up and down, the straightened herself and gave Kaden’s extended hand a quick shake. Having made an initial introduction, she seemed to reconsider her approach to dealing with the man standing in her way. Finally she shrugged.

“I’m Victoria. Now, can I get through?”

“You’re welcome to. Actually, you’ll probably have a lot more luck getting anything out of those guys than I did. They’re all pretty worked up.”

“You started down there?” she asked a question that she quickly answered. “Should have guessed, given the outfit. Everyone upstairs is just having tea and pretending it’ll all be fine.” She shrugged again.

“Well, if the downstairs is any kind of indication, it won’t be. Any idea what we’re supposed to be doing this time around?”

“Survive, I’d guess. Either way, I’m not in the mood for tea.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be upstairs seeing… whatever there is to see.” Kaden stepped aside and to let Victoria past. After she was a couple steps below him, he snapped his fingers. “One word of advice, though. Should probably watch the shrugs.” He pulled at his suspenders then nodded towards the girl. “No straps.”

Shaking her head, Victoria continued down the stairs and quickly vanished from sight. With a sigh, Kaden ran a hand through his hair and continued. Just surviving a ship sinking would have been simple enough, given the kinds of things he – and others like him – were capable of. Dealing with the panic and fear was on the brink of sweeping through the ship, though, would be something else entirely. Bracing himself for whatever Gamer’s event had in store for him, Kaden continued upwards.

[Jesper]

There was a concept that Sophia had always heard of, but it never stuck much in her mind until she found herself leaping through a portal in a desperate attempt to avoid being decapitated by a playing card. It was funny the little oddities that life sometimes could throw a person. That concept was karma. It was the idea that if a person did good things in life, then good things would start happening to said person. It was a decent enough thought, but unfortunately, the opposite was just as true. Sophia had lived her life on level, and yet somehow, she felt that she managed to do something bad enough to warrant...everything that had been happening.

A second later, she found herself lying face-down in the dirt of the lively carnival, groaning from the pain she felt on multiple levels. Pushing herself up to her knees, the healer sank backwards and looked around—things had picked up by quite a bit since she last had been present, a sort of vibrant sensation filled the air that had previously been absent. It was surely the result of the teenage mastermind behind the event itself, the excitement, but it was a change nonetheless. Sadly, Sophia wasn’t feeling up to any company, so she scrambled to her feet and removed herself to some alleyway or dark corner. A few seconds later, she found herself leaning against a stack of crates, fighting for breath and trying not to sob at the same time.

“You look like you could use a smoke, sweetheart,” a figure at her side shoved a carton of cigarettes in front of her face, summoning her attention upward towards his face. He was an peculiar man just by the looks of him, adorned mostly in red, with a top hat and slicked moustache accentuating his persona. The healer sighed and allowed a faint smile, turning her body so she could sit on top of the wooden box in front of her.

She waved politely. “No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

“Why not?” he asked innocently, hanging a cig from his lips and lighting it.

Sophia opened her mouth to respond, but she ended up hesitating. “…good question. I always thought it was for health reasons, but I guess I’m not a normal case.”

“That’s for sure,” the man chuckled. “With an outfit like that, I thought you were one of my hostesses, but I realized that I didn’t know you.”

“Outfit?”

Sophia looked down, only to spot clothing that she had never even seen before. The first thing she noticed was two long white gloves covering and surrounding her hands. The crawled halfway up her arm, but they were covered in part by a blue and white-themed outfit, punctuated by a red tie wrapped around her neck. She reached up to feel the cloth of the crimson tie, but her attention was again redirected when she felt her hair, suddenly much longer than she had been keeping it for the majority of forever.

The odd man laughed. “Yes, your outfit. It’s a little eccentric, if you ask me,” he cleared his throat. “Not like I’m one to talk.”

“I think it’s nice, if you ask me,” a feminine voice injected itself into the conversation from around the bend, sourced from the woman who began walking towards the pair. She was a lovely lady, to be sure, with a tight blue leather suit that left…little to the imagination. She flipped a curl of her brown hair as she flashed a smile. “Formal, yet sexy. It’s a tough look to pull off, but you’ve managed to do it.”

“Um…uh…thank you?” Sophia said. “I’m sorry, I…uh…I’m just trying to register…everything. All of this. I’ve never seen these clothes before in my life.”

“Typical of a lady, as far as I’m concerned,” the man laughed.

The other woman shot him a glare, but eventually resigned and looked back at Sophia. “Ah yes, I suppose that would be quite the shock, wouldn’t it? Your attire is a gift from Master Gamer.”

“I didn’t ask for this!” the healer grunted.

“But you look good. You can’t be too mad about that,” the woman giggled. Holding out an index finger, she snapped with her other hand, and a hand mirror materialized in the palm of her hand. She held it up to Sophia as she continued. “See? Look at you. Simply stunning.”

Sophia was about to protest, but she was distracted by her reflection. She frowned and tossed her hair, turning her head to the side as she examined herself. “I, uh…it’s not…bad.”

“See? Nothing to worry about,” the woman grinned. “My name is Mixie, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You are Sophia, correct?”

“…how did you know that?”

“It’s my business to know,” Mixie replied. “I’m here as a guide for every Kill Town player.”

“Oh, so you’re…” Sophia closed her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t bother acting all nice, then. We’re not friends.”

“That’s a shame,” the AI responded. “I was looking forward to getting you know you.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” the healer narrowed her glance into a glare. “Your boss is a jerk, you know, and totally not original. If I had a dime for every time some madman stole me and put me inside a game, I’d…”

“You’d…?” Mixie crossed her arms, her attitude matching the healer’s.

“…well, I’d have thirty cents,” Sophia almost winced. “But that’s more than enough for a girl like me, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re stronger than you let on,” the program said simply. As those last words left the tip of her tongue, the device Sophia had been wearing at the hip buzzed and opened a large blue portal beside her. Mixie smiled softly as Sophia turned to walk through. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Rosario. I understand your situation, but please…try to enjoy yourself.”

The healer couldn’t help but laugh as she strolled through. Enjoy herself or die, was it? What a laugh. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she made her way into her next event. To her surprise, however, water began to flood inside her mouth when she made it to the other side, swishing against the back of her throat as her entire body converged into fluid, filling her nostrils with the liquid and her senses with fear. Her eyes snapped open, and all she could see was the murky depths of a tunnel, likely safe for use before the entire ocean seemingly spilled into it.

She struggled. She fought for every motion that she made as she swam towards the door, but fighting only forced oxygen bubbles outward and her impending death inward. Her eyes darted back and forth for some sort of sign that she would make it out alive, but all she could find was another room and another apparent dead end. She turned around to give the other room another go-around before her lung capacity was tested to its limit, but a hand grabbed her shoulder before she could make much progress. It was the hand of a child, a boy of maybe fourteen, and he was in the same unfortunate situation as she was. The healer held out hope that he was there for her rescue, but his eyes said everything that she needed to know. He was just as scared as she was, but he was too young to do anything about it. Such was the plight of the weak to the strong.

To her surprise, nothing she felt nothing inside for the little boy. Pity may have snuck its way into her heart of hearts, but somehow, she just knew that he was just a figment of her imagination, or a product of the game that she was subject to. Maybe it was his dated clothing, or something less tangible about the kid. When she came into contact with normal people, she could immediately identify with them, like she could see through a window into their soul, but when she touched this particular person, she felt…nothing. It was a lot to comprehend in just a second, but it was enough for her to consider not helping. Besides, she wasn’t exactly bursting at the seam with options, anyway.

The boy pointed an index finger at Sophia, and then turned to point at the wall. Her eyes followed the path which the finger directed, and she stumbled upon the discovery of a ladder that crawled up the wall, leading to a hatch door. Wherever they happened to be, they were probably at the very bottom, and perhaps it led to safety. Puzzle piece after puzzle piece was put into place in her mind—the child knew the way out, but he was too weak to force it open because of the water pressure. Nodding, Sophia grabbed the boy’s wrist and swam towards their means of escape. Placing her hands around the wheel, she attempted to turn it. At this point, her lungs were screaming for release, letting her know quite forcibly that she didn’t have much more time to waste. However, the mechanism failed to move much on her first try. Her eyes widened as she tried again, forcing it a little bit more. Her biceps bulged as she swung her legs up, placing her feet flat against the wall to give her more leverage. She exhaled in a grunt, air flooding out of her mouth and bubbling up towards the door as the wheel turned ever so slowly.

Her heart raced, pulsating fear and panic as her brain began to comprehend another death with every second that ticked off her mortal clock. She glanced to the side, not allowing her head to turn with them, but able to see the child just enough to know what he was thinking. And it was more or less a sentiment that she shared—they only had a few more seconds left. Her vision blurred with the water that beat against it, her head feeling as heavy as her heart. Memories of two lives and an afterlife flooded her brain. What would she say to King Yemma after that short of a sabbatical?

The metal groaned. The hatch lifted along with her spirits. She grabbed the boy by the cloth of his shirt and dragged him along with her body as she crawled out of the hatch. She wanted to rest, but with the amount of water that pulsed from the opening, the healer realized that there was still one more thing to do before she could even consider living. Slamming the hatch shut and grinding the wheel shut, she prayed that nobody else was down there. If they were, it was likely that they would never be found again. She lowered her head and threw up what seemed like a gallon of liquid before she collapsed back to the ground.

The boy gasped and sprang to his feet, running up the stairs behind them. Sophia held out a hand as she watched him leave. “Hey! Wait!” he failed to heed her voice, however, and he vanished from her sight. Sighing, Sophia fell back down, turning so that she could lie on her back, still gasping for breath. “Oh…whatever. You’re probably…not real…anyway.”

A pulsing silence replaced any sounds that filled her ears before then, a clock ticking, a pendulum swinging down on her as time passed by. She didn’t know where she was, but if the hatch was any indication, she couldn’t stay where she was for very long.

[Victoria]

The ballroom led towards another hall, or rather, quite a few halls. The ship appeared to be much larger than she had originally thought. She quickly walked through the beautiful corridor, and stopped as she passed a large map set on the wall. She stood and studied the information; it appeared to have been made to direct passengers around the ship with the most ease possible. She dragged a finger along the lines, and found the route she needed.

She began to jog again, following the hall as it opened into a sort of dining area. A few passengers sat conversing. She heard them whisper, unsure of what may be happening. Just before she had arrived a jolt had overtaken the ship, causing a stir in the men and women aboard. No news had been given, just that they should remain calm and stay put. Victoria wanted the whole story; she didn’t want to sit by as the ship sank to the bottom of the ocean.

She made her way to a stairwell, and stopped abruptly. A young man looked up at her, and she prepared to take him out if she had to. “I’d like very much to get by,” she said, staring sternly at the blonde.

They exchanged words, and he surprised her. “Actually you don’t. But if you’re trying to blend in, you probably should.” He held out his hand and she eyed him suspiciously. “Kaden. I’m in Gamer’s…. game, also.”

Ah, makes sense. She shook his hand quickly, and after a few more words, he let her pass. I won’t be the only one here, the last event had at least four of us, which will probably be the same case here. She hurried down the stairs, ready to get some answers.
There was shouting, so much shouting; she had to cover her ears from all the noise. She stood in the small doorway that opened up to form the massive engine room. Burly men ran back and forth with shovels, tossing black matter into the roaring mouths of the furnaces. The men worked hard, never stopping, taking orders from another man who directed everyone around the large area.

Victoria hitched up her dress and moved past the men, and a few turned to look at her dubiously. The man looked down at her, and frowned. “What’re you doing here? You shouldn’t have left the upper decks.” He said, stepping down a metal staircase.

“I need to know what’s going on, how long do we have, and how do we stop this?” she said with determination.

“I don’t think you have the authority to be asking such things, Missy.” He said, scrunching up his face in his own determination. “We’re working hard down here and you’re distracting the men.” He waved a hand at the grimy men, glancing at her curiously. “A lady doesn’t belong down here.” He motioned for another man to come forward and escort her out.

“Wait, I want to help. I know we’re in danger, and I need to survive this. This is a matter of life or death!” she exclaimed, moving away from the guard.

“You don’t think I know that? That’s why were bustin’ our asses off down here keeping this ship afloat.” He shouted back. “Don’t make us use force to get you out of here, girl.” He looked from the guard and back to her.

“So you won’t let me help, and you won’t tell me exactly what’s going on?” she folded her arms over her chest, stubbornly keeping her ground.

“What’s with this girl?” the guard asked, looking at his superior. “Most of ‘em would rather sit nice and right in their rooms, than mess with us.” He gave her a stern look. “Thinkin’ she might be useful, Sir, what with those arms on ‘er.” He nodded at her crossed arms.

The man looked Victoria over for the first time. He had only seen a woman in a dress, but the guard was right, she had muscles on her that no high-class brat ought to. “You work?” he shot her the question quickly, looking at her with a curious eye.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” She said, raising her nose and puffing up proudly.

“Good, you want to help, grab a shovel.” He pointed towards the furnaces.

“First, tell me what I need to know. If you don’t tell me, I’m afraid I can’t help as well as you think.” She tilted her head and uncrossed her arms. She begged with her eyes, and he could see that.

“Come with me,” he waved a hand and started up the stairs. They walked up the metal steps, and stopped above the racket. The men kept at their work, while he looked around nervously. “The ship isn’t going to make it,” he started, his voice hushed. “God knows why I’m telling you, girl, but you’ve got that look about you.” He gripped his hands together nervously. “I have to keep my men working, keep the furnaces going and supply the power required to keep the lights on and communications open. We need rescuing, there’s no simpler way to put it.” He sighed and held a dirty hand to his forehead.

“There’s no way to fix the damage?” she asked. If the ship was sinking, the most logical thing to do would be to patch it. She had to fix the ship in order to survive.

“Fix the damage? You out of your mind, girl?” he asked, shocked by her words. “There’s no way the damage can be fixed. The forward compartments are being flooded, and word is that the damage has caused the fifth compartment to flood as well. It’s only just begun, and if you want to help, this is the only way.” He pointed towards the men shoveling coals into the hot fire.

Doomed,the word filled her head. Is this his plan? To put us here on this ship, to struggle against odds that are stacked against us? This massive ship is about to sink, and there’s no way for me to stop it? She felt panic rise in her stomach.

“G-give me a shovel.” She said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’ll do my best, if one more set of hands will help.” She looked up; ready to do what it would take to help.

“You’re a brave girl, and so young,” he looked away with sadness. “What’s your name?” He held out his hand and locked eyes with her.

“Victoria,” she grasped his hand and smiled, despite the situation.

“I’m the Chief Engineer,” he gripped her hand tightly. “The name is Joseph Bell.” He let her hand go and stepped aside so she could get down the stairs. “Use your muscles; it’s not as easy as it looks. Don’t think about what’s going on, it will only make the panic worse.” He looked away again and leaned on the rail of the stairway. She lingered a moment, and then moved further down the stairs.

“Oi, over here,” a man yelled at her, waving a hand frantically. Victoria wandered towards him, looking about at the frantic room. “You’re not really one of ‘em are ya? Rich?” he asked, shoving a shovel into her hands.

“You could say that,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face. She began shoveling the coal into the hot fire, it flared up with it heap.

“Nice,” he watched her at work, seemingly admiring her as she moved in her form-fitting dress. Victoria ignored the young man, keeping to her work.

This is a game; I have to figure it out. So far I’m still at square one. I could be drinking tea; instead I’m doing manual labor. She thought to herself. The steaming room was hot, it made her dress uncomfortable. She didn’t let up, though, she worked hard with the men to keep the boat’s power flowing. I don’t even know how long I have, I should have asked. She grunted and leaned on her shovel for a moment. The working conditions were not good. The men were slaving away, but she could tell that they were worried. The man beside her didn’t talk anymore, he moved as if his life depending on it and in a way it did. This may be a game, but I’m not the only one fighting to survive. She glanced around the room, and noticed Joseph shouting at his men once more. [i]We have to work together, and fight to survive to the very end. She shoveled again, keeping her mind on that thought. She would fuel the ship for as long as she could manage, and then go from there. The game would move forward, and she would have to adapt appropriately to succeed.

[Kaden]

“Well this is retarded.”

It was all Kaden could think to say. He stood, covered in grime and filth though he was, in the middle of an overly-elaborate dining room. Every which-way he looked there were people dressed in clothes that looked too expensive, drinking out of teacups that looked to expensive, and, no doubt, commenting about trivialities that were far too expensive. They were probably on their way to urinating out more money than the courier had ever had.

It was difficult to actually get anything done looking the way he looked; the upper-crest didn’t seem big on conversing with the common man. Hell, some of them even donned monocles as Kaden approached, as though to remind of just how much money they had. As someone who came from a less-than-well-off upbringing, it was a frustrating display for him. Especially when he knew he could wipe any of them off the face of the planet with naught but a surge of energy.

Growling obscenities under his breath, Kaden stomped out of the dining room. As though willed there by some divine hand, a well-to-do jackass had been standing exactly where the courier planned on stomping. Bumping into the man with feigned apologies, Kaden was about to continue on his way when he was offered a quick chunk-o-cash. The courier considered the man before responding.

“How do you feel about Gamer?” the courier asked.

“What?”

“Did you run into any robots on your way here?” he followed up.

“Have you gone mad?”

“Just having a bit of fun with you, sire,” the courier grinned and bowed to the ‘noble’ before him.

The courier came to the quick conclusion that anyone who didn’t recognize the name Gamer or sympathize with being kidnapped by robots was a creation of the game and not an actual person. Working with such limited information meant that there were certain assumptions that one had to operate under. For Kaden, there were two such assumptions. The first was that any one of the passengers were victims, like he was, and the second was that Gamer would try to manipulate things to their disadvantage.

Kaden summed up his “employer” quickly and accurately. Very little was expected of him, and he looked to be wearing about the same size clothing Kaden would. The job was simple: take the bags and follow him to his room. Why he was worried about his luggage when the entire ship was about to sink was a question the courier didn’t spend too much time one. Instead, he tried to play the idiot and picked up the bags.

Following the man back to his room, Kaden had a easy time of clubbing the elder gentleman in the back of his head with his own suitcase and stealing his clothing. It wasn’t the nicest thing to do, sure, but there were things he was trying to figure out and everyone in the event was working against the clock. Undressing from his work fatigues and donning a richer attire took a surprising amount of time for Kaden – who the hell invented cuff-links, anyway? – but soon he reappeared in the dining room wearing a mostly-completed tuxedo – he refused to wear a cummerbund.

Despite his efforts, the courier didn’t last too long. If the impending doom of the entire ship hadn’t been weighing on him, he probably would have been able to waste more time with the fat-cats. Instead, he learned everything he could, as quickly as he could, and vanished back below decks. Even the way those people talked was pretentious. Any longer and Kaden would have been punching them squarely in the nose.

As he made his way back down below decks, the courier discarded the jacket, button-down shirt, and ridiculous bow-tie of his previous costume. When the din of the laborers hit him, he was wearing a bizarre mish-mash of work boots, tuxedo-slacks, tank-top, and suspenders. It would surely be a hit with the other works, he had no doubt. In the meantime, though, he made quick work of tracking down the only other person he had met in their event. Her exertion of ki made that a simple task with his Sight.

As he turned to head towards Victoria, though, Kaden caught Sight of another source of energy. Vicky, as he called her in his head, didn’t appear to be going anywhere, he turned and headed in the direction of the unknown ki. Descending another level of stairs, and making his way through various hallways, Kaden was almost knocked over as a boy shot past him. Shaking off the encounter, he rounded the corner to find…

“Sophia?”

“Kaden?” she looked in his direction.

“Is that actually you?”

Her hair was much longer than it had been last time he saw her, but she was otherwise the same. Her clothes were definitely different, but that seemed like an increasingly minor feat for Gamer as Kaden considered his own get-up. Pushing that thought aside, he looked the priestess up and down and let out a low whistle before he realized what he was doing.

“Of course it’s me,” she replied, looking down at herself as though to follow his gaze. “What?” she followed up when he whistled.

“Huh? Oh… nothing. Just…” the courier cleared his throat. “Might want to be careful about kicking people… if y’know what I mean. Anyway, we should get moving. There’s at least one other person in this event and the whole ship will be under water in a matter of hours.”

[Victoria]

“That’s some story,” Albert replied as he wiped his brow with a filthy hand. “You should write a book, make some real money, if we survive this anyway.”

“We’re going to get out of here,” she said, rubbing a dirty hand against her dress. “The story, it’s going to end well too.” She smiled lightly, and with aching muscles she began to shovel coal once again. They had been working for twenty minutes, talking between shoveling. Albert was an upbeat kind of guy, the kind of guy she would have liked to have really met. She knew that he was simply code, not a real person, but she couldn’t help but get along with him.

“So this Gamer guy, he underestimates his prisoners,” she continued, smiling as she worked. “They break through his defenses, and beat up all his thugs.” She changed the story; the youth beside her obviously lived in a world void of superior technology. Whatever this place was, it was not Earth.

“All of the thugs? They must be pretty strong.” He commented from the furnace he was working at.

“They are, and he didn’t account for their determination. His prison could only hold them for so long, plus they were smart.” She spoke matter-of-factly. “They got out, beat up those thugs like they were pups, and then went straight to the man who had taken them in.”

“Gamer, that was his name? Funny name if you ask me.” He wrinkled his nose at the name of his creator.

“Yeah, I know, right? So they fight him, all working together, and beat the ever loving shit out of him. He would never hurt another person again.” She said, grinning at the very thought of getting revenge on the teenager ruining her life.

“Shit, Victoria, did they kill him?” Albert looked at her suddenly, eager to hear of the mastermind’s gruesome death. For him, the story was a welcome distraction. It made their work easier, and the impending doom further away.

“Yes, they killed him,” she nodded, but inside she did not know how much truth would be in her reply. As angry as she was, she couldn’t predict what would happen when they did get their revenge. “So after they kill him, in a very suitable manner, they all go to the nearest pub and get right smashed.” She declared, and then laughed.

“A well earned drink, I’d say. Taking out a devious man like that, they would get a free round, I bet.” Albert shook his head and smiled while he worked.

A loud groan filled the ship, much like earlier. Victoria looked up quickly, and then over at Joseph. He held a hand to his brow, and looked around at his nervous worker. “Keep up the work, men, keep the fires roaring!” He yelled, and turned to run up the stairs he had been standing by.

Vicky furrowed her brow and stared at the fire. He’s going to stay here until the end, isn’t he? she looked up again, feeling pained at the fate that would befall these people. I can’t stay down here until the end, but I can try to save them, regardless of what he said. She set her shovel down and Albert looked at her curiously.

“Had enough already?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Well, if I did all the work there would be none left for you.” She said, shrugging lightly. Albert averted his eyes quickly, blushing under the sooth on his cheeks. “Sorry,” she laughed, “I have to find something out, I need to see what else I can do.” She explained. “Just think about the story, think about the determination in them to survive.” She walked up to the worker, and touched his shoulder. “Not all hope is lost; when you think it might be, there’s always hope deep inside.” She tapped his chest with the knuckles on her other hand, and then leaned upwards to peck him on the cheek. Despite the dirt, and the sweat, she gave him that small kindness.

“You’re a sweet lass, you go on and kill that Gamer.” He grabbed her about the waist, tipped her down, and planted a juicy brute-style kiss on her lips. He lifted her back up, grinned, and turned back to her work. A few of the other works whistled at them, and then resumed their own work.

Victoria, although flustered, left the sweltering furnaces and approached the stairs. The men here know how to sweep a girl off her feet. Vic blushed and started up the stairs, she located Joseph at the top, looking across the vast engine room.

“Too much for you?” he said without looking at her.

“Not exactly,” she started, and held her hands together, “I need to see if there’s something more I can do. My help here is minimal, your men are doing more work than I ever could.” She said, she stepped beside him to look at his troubled face. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“That groaning, it’s a sign of the ship beginning to sink. The more water that pours in, the more we go down. Soon the lower decks will be flooded, and the ship will be pulled in nose first. The water will swallow the Titanic, and anyone who doesn’t get off of Her.” He said this quietly, calmly.

“There are lifeboats, right?” Victoria asked, the panic was in her voice, but she tightened her fists to control it.

“Aye, there is, but not enough.” He shook his head. “The Titanic was supposed to be unsinkable,” he said in mild disbelief, “but here we are.” He waved a hand, and turned to look at Victoria. “There aren’t enough seats, girl, you need to get out of here.” He pointed towards the door to the engine room. “We’ll keep this boat alive until we go down, but you don’t belong down here, just like I told you when you came. Will you leave now?” he implored her.

“Yes,” she lingered for a moment, “I won’t stop looking for a way to stop this.” She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. “I’ll find a way, and no one will have to die.” She turned away, near to tears, and left the engine room. Gamer, how could you make such a horrible story?

[Alexander Trafford]

“Alex, wake the fuck up man, come on!” an unfamiliar voice shouted in front of him. Someone, presumably the same person who was speaking to him, shook his shoulders violently and gradually rattled him into the realm of consciousness. The unknown man continued to yell, but his voice quickly became drowned out by a mysterious and foreboding groaning and whining.

“Ah, Jesus, it’s getting worse I reckon,” the voice of a second man stated as the inexplicably loud lamenting slowly faltered into silence. Whatever the origin of the noise, they were certainly close to it. They spoke in accents that Trafford could not identify, although he was sure he had heard them before – perhaps in movies. With his interest peaked, either by the foreign dialects or the proclamation that ‘something was getting worse,’ he rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Ugh Christ, I’m up . . . I’m up,” he said through a deep yawn. Where in the hell am I? was his first thought, but he knew better than to ask it aloud. Instantly he noticed the scent of salt water and, for a moment, contemplated the possibility that he had somehow been recast in the role of ‘Captain Ace Trafford.’ But, from the looks on the men’s faces that surrounded him, their situation was much graver. “What in the hell happened? Someone die?”

He joked, unaware of their situation, and everyone cringed.

At first he had been unaware of whom he was speaking to, but as he glanced over their distinct faces, and then over the room, he seemed to remember everything; as if, once again, he had been granted knowledge that he had no business having.

Immediately he noticed that the room had no windows, and appeared to be nothing more than a small, metal box with three crowded bunks. Outside the door frame (as there was no actual door) he could hear the commotion of dozens, perhaps hundreds, of people shuffling around and conversing. He could not make out anything in particular, but the tone of their discussions sounded dramatic.

The three men who surrounded him (his two bunkmates and one who did not belong) were all dressed similar. They wore dark trousers, brown, black or grey with suspenders that were snapped tightly over their shoulders, and a dirty button-down tunic that covered an even filthier undershirt. He was adorned in equally poor clothes. The two who had already spoken were Jon and Marc, the former an Irish immigrant who had been born in Dublin but spent most of his life in Southampton, and the latter was a Scottish steel-worker who emigrated into Hampshire and had worked the docks for the majority of his adult life.

But for the life of him he could not remember where he was.

“‘Ey Alex, have ya’self a smoke,” Marc spoke, his tone was ominous, and his face was dark. He handed him a cigarette, which Trafford immediately placed in his mouth, and then lit the long, white cylinder. “This is Jack, introduce ya’self mate.”

The unknown man hopped down from the edge of the bunk and made his way across the room. He appeared to be uneasy as he walked; his medium-length, dirty-blonde locks fell over his restless countenance.

“Jack Dawson,” the man spoke and put forward his hand. Trafford moved to take the gesture, but caught himself as his extended fingers brushed upon Jack’s soft palms. His eyes widened as he struggled to recognize the name. It was from a movie but he could not place his finger on which one. And then it hit him, slamming him between the eyes like a damned train. His mouth fell ajar.

Oh shit . . .

“I-I’m Alex Trafford,” Ace stuttered as his mind raced with the new realization. He extended his hand and tried to ‘play it cool.’ Jack Dawson was, of course, a character in the movie The Titanic, and his appearance, combined with their current surroundings, could only mean one thing; he was a aboard the doomed passenger liner and, he speculated, they were in the bottom decks of the ship; they were the penniless class of unlucky bastards who had boarded the ill-fated vessel.

“Alex . . . some bad shit has happened since you went under,” John interjected as Jack began to pace uneasily around the room.

He could only guess that it had something to do with an iceberg.

~~~*~~~

Trafford rubbed his index finger and his thumb against his wrinkled forehead. His furrowed countenance matched the grave expressions of his counterparts. All four of them sat in their room, awaiting a fate that seemed both inevitable and impossible. Jon and Marc were contemplating how an ‘unsinkable ship’ had suddenly become vulnerable; Jack was somewhere in his own thoughts; and Alex was trying to come to terms with his new ‘reality.’ He had the advantage of a twenty-first century education – he knew the story of The Titanic, and, more importantly, he knew how it ended. Nearly three-quarters of the poverty-stricken families that overfilled the lower decks would perish when the ship finally surrendered to the immeasurable strength of the freezing sea. His mind was racing, searching for a solution, but he was running in quicksand and the harder he tried, the more the situation seemed doomed.

“Fuck man, I’ve got to find her,” Dawson suddenly exclaimed as his folded arms dropped against his hips and he shook his head. Without warning, he darted out of the room.

Jon was the first on his feet and, as he reached the door, Marc followed as he muttered a string of curses. Without thinking twice, Alex leapt to his feet and gave chase to the train of penniless peasants as they dashed into the hallways of the doomed masterpiece.


“Where are we going?” Trafford shouted ahead towards the other three, who were rounding a corner and seemed to be sprinting downhill. At first, Alex could not wrap his mind around such a thing – ships were supposed to be level, that’s the key to staying afloat. Then he realized that this vessel was, of course, in the process of no longer staying afloat.

“No idea, just keep up!” a voice shouted from around the bend, he thought it to be Marc’s but he could not be sure.

Everything was happening so quickly; his senses were flooded with stimulation. The sound of worn, padded soles slapping against the cold, stone tiles provided rhythm to the otherwise chaotic orchestra; the groaning of the ship rose towards the crescendo against the backdrop of panicked screaming and lamenting wails as a peculiar cocktail of saltwater, coal and impending death infiltrated his nostrils.

“Oh shit man, this is fuckin’ bad!” his other bunkmate screamed, his voice was shaking with audible fear.

“What’s fuckin’ bad, what the hell is going -,” Alex’s voice came to screeching halt as he rounded the corner. Water was slowly rising in the slanted hallway, creeping steadily towards the bunks of the lower class. It was all happening, here and now.

Jon and Marc had stopped at the edge of the water and watched as Jack swam through the darkened fluid towards yet another corner, and another hallway.

“Where is he going?” Trafford shouted, and his two companions slowly turned to face him.

“He’s headin’ toward them uppa’ decks,” Jon muttered as his eyes fell back towards the rising fluid; as the water washed over their leather-clad toes their faces told Alex all that he needed to know.

Their situation had become reality, death was actually upon them.

The light-haired psychokinetic jogged down towards the sea’s edge and the balls of his feet splashed against the freezing fluid. He grabbed both men by the arm and spun them around, his usually casual demeanor was absent; the reality of this world was unknown to him, and there was no way that he could allow himself to die here. Not after everything that he had been through as of late. There was no way he would allow that to happen.

“We need to get the hell out of here, and real fuckin’ quick too,” He stated, and they slowly nodded in agreement. Then they turned and they sprinted forward like bats out of hell.

~~~*~~~

“Help us . . . please, somebody, anybody, help us!” One desperate scream rose above the rest, although all the shouts were similar. As the three, Alex, Jon and Marc, rounded into the main corridor of The Titanic’s lower deck they set their eyes on the source of the commotion. An uncontrolled throng of men, women and children were packed into a tiny stairwell; the front of the horde was unmoving as the men at the back tried to push the group forward.

“What in the hell is goin’ on?” Marc questioned as the trio arrived at the rear of the pack. Jon and Alex shook their head in response, and each man tried to crane their necks over the rest of the crowd to try and catch a view of the front.

All they could see was a cage. And then it donned on them, they had been locked down here.

“Jesus Christ . . .” Trafford whispered as he slowly remembered scenes from the epic movie. Snap shots infiltrated his mind. Of men and women and children sitting dejectedly in their bunks as the water crested over their laps– images of lovers holding each other on their beds, crying into each other’s shoulders as they spent their last moments with one another. He clenched his eyes in an attempt to slow the flow of tears; he was reminded of Alice once again and how, outside that old witch’s castle, he had tried to hold onto her as her body faded into nothingness and ventured back towards Heaven.

“That can’t happen,” he muttered beneath his breath, vowing to make sure that his version of this dreaded tale somehow turned out differently. But what could he do? What could anyone do against such insurmountable odds? He looked around as he mulled his options, his gaze fell onto those who surrounded him – he locked eyes with mothers and fathers and daughters and sons who were beginning to succumb to the realization of their fate. Their eyes told stories that words could never describe. There was an air of hopelessness, of defeat, of surrender. He watched them, and he, in turn, felt their helplessness seep into his core. It was a feeling of rejection that he had experienced before; it was something that had defined his life.

It was penniless immigrants who surrounded him now, replacing the homeless, the drug addicts and the prostitutes of West City’s vast underbelly. They had boarded this ship with hope-filled eyes; each and every one of them had dreamed of a better and brighter future. And now it would be taken from them. It did not matter if these people were not real in the sense that he was; they were real to him, in this moment, and in this reality, they were his brothers, they were his mother – they were his kin and they were his friends. And you don’t just let those people die.

“Let’s go,” Alexander stated and grabbed Jon and Marc by the upper arm. They looked at him curiously and moved to object, but stopped when they saw the half-crazy fire of determination that burned brightly within his hazelnut eyes.

He pushed his shoulder into the crowd, and weaved amongst his poverty-stricken companions. Ignoring the complaints, and the objections, he forced his way through the horde and made his way towards the impenetrable gate. They broke against his body like waves against the headlands, or like freezing crests against the hull of a ship – only, this time, they would not infiltrate, not as the iceberg had.

As he neared the front, he could see the guards rushing past the sealed enclosure – ignoring the cries of children and the pleas of women. They had left them here to die.

Alex’s long, bony fingers wrapped around the intricate metal of the gate and he pulled his body against it. A moment later, Jon and Marc appeared at his side. They were facing the crowd, with their backs against the steel barrier, and were reassuring the wailing throng that they would help them – but without a definite plan as to how.

“Shit, Alex, how the hell we gonna get outta here?” Marc whispered in between shouts of reassurance.

Trafford wrapped his hand around the lock in order to keep the faint golden hue hidden from view. His palm was burning as he imbued his own energy into the steel. His own flesh was pressed against the heating metal. He winced and clenched his teeth, holding back cries of pain as he steeled himself against the torment.

Finally the lock was blown into nothingness by a small explosion that had been contained by his skin. He pulled back his charred, blackened hand and slipped it into his pocket – he could smell his burnt flesh and sought to hide his smoked palm from view.

“This is how,” Alex groaned through clenched teeth as he kicked the gate open. His furrowed brow encroached upon his fiery eyes as he grimaced in pain and moved through the entrance way.

If he was to survive, so would they. And if they were to die here, on this doomed vessel, then so would he.

[Sage]

“Run!!”

“What’s going on?!”

“Run! Run!!”

“Where’s Timothy?!”

“RUUUUN!!!”

A thunderous cacophony assaulted Sage’s ears, and for the umpteenth time that day, she found herself fighting her way to consciousness, struggling mightily against a thick, heavy daze, her own exhaustion, and the mystifying pain of withdrawal. Bleary, angry eyes opened in narrow slits, and the girl shook under the exertion needed to keep them open against the glare of the fairly dim lighting.

Finally, she struggled up onto her knees and elbows while people sprinted, screaming, in all directions, bumping her and jostling her until she ultimately fell back down. Nobody seemed to notice, and Sage was forced to pick herself up all over again.

This time, she used the wall to help herself to her feet, but was pushed into the wall, against which she collapsed, by another frenzied person who raced past her. The girl’s frustration was beyond significant at this point, but the spectacle before her silenced any protests she might have wanted to voice.

In a narrow hall, people were racing in every direction, but what struck Sage was that the hall was pitched in a noticeably steep incline. Most people seemed to be trying to scramble up the corridor, while others raced down it. Massive, metal pipes lined the walls, and smaller ones accompanied miles of cable along the ceilings, stretching on beyond Sage’s sight.

Suddenly, a chubby man broke from the crowd which ran with aimless dischord, and forcefully caught Sage’s arm at the elbow and wrist. “Come on, miss; we ain’t got much time!”

He tugged for her to follow, but the blue haired girl resisted, only slowly taking steps after him, her legs wobbling wildly. “Wh-what? What’s happening? What don’t we have t-time for?”

“Come on, Charlie! She’s just a working girl anyway; ain’t got no family! Let’s go or you won’t ever see yours!”

With a nod, the fat man called ‘Charlie’ let go of Sage, and gave her a pained expression before disappearing into the throng. The hybrid fell back against the wall, the debris of abandoned luggage against it offering a tiny buffer between the few calm inches Sage occupied before the tempest of hallway just in front of her. She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled, relaxing her muscles in a vain attempt to melt away her stress.

Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes. Working girl?

Sage looked down at herself, and immediately, she blushed. Instead of her demure, Asian-inspired dress, she found herself in a bright red one-piece, that seemed to go from as low as decently possible on her chest to as high as possible on her thighs. Immediately, the blue haired girl pressed her legs tight together, and clasped her hands over the exposed parts of her chest, forcing her to take note of the elegant, white silk gloves on her hands. She couldn’t see the fire engine red lipstick she was wearing, or the rouge on her cheeks.

She could see that her hair had been relieved of its pigtails, and now cascaded down her back. A quick shake of her head also revealed that her uncomfortably tight - and short, she reminded herself - outfit was backless, as her long, blue hair dragged across bare skin.

A glance downward revealed why she had been having trouble walking. Ruby red high heels adorned her feet. Sage found them remarkably uncomfortable compared to her usual shoes. Honestly, she didn’t understand how other girls could possibly wear them, as she wobbled a few steps here and there.

So she was supposed to look like a prostitute, she realized with a frown. That didn’t explain much. It certainly didn’t explain what she was doing in a slanted hallway buzzing with fear.

A mighty groan, however, stifled most of her thoughts, and the hallway pitched down into an even more severe incline. The crowd about her all whooped in shock as they fell and slid down the slick tiles, disappearing down the long corridor. A few caught the metal edges that jutted out from the walls every so often.

Sage tumbled backwards and rolled, but managed, with an icy claw, to stab into the tile and halt her descent. Her uncomfortable high heels, she somehow managed to notice, had left her feet and disappeared along with most of the hysterical people she found herself with.

“We’re sinking!!” she heard someone shout. Several cries of fear or profanity-laced fear were shouted in response, but nobody refuted the claim. Sage’s eyes widened; she was on a ship, and it was going down.

Finally, the hallway rolled back, becoming level for a moment, before rolling back again, but this time nowhere near as severely. Releasing her grip on the floor, Sage allowed her chillrend to dissipate before she stood up on bare feet.

“We have to go, now! Move up! Move up!” a man in a wool hat shouted, waving those who remained ahead. “No time to go back!! Go! There’ll be lifeboats up top! Go!!”

Sage followed along with the small handful of people as they raced up the incline of the hallway, the hat-wearing-man behind them. Anywhere those ahead of her twisted or turned, Sage followed, veering down corridors as the groaning sounded off louder and more frequently.

A thunderous bang caused her and the others to stagger, as someone shouted ‘look out!’ Sage found one of those massive pipes had burst at the seams up ahead, and tore itself from the wall. It lay across the hallway, spewing water at insane pressure.

The group was forced to climb over the obstruction to continue. Sage did the same as the others, and they continued down the hall, as another groan overtook the ship, causing the hallway to rotate right, hard.

Sage found herself crashing against the wall, and had to run at an angle, for the floor was now far from level. The group veered left, up a flight of stairs, which was now infinitely harder to climb up, as the angle made them nearly a cliff face, and water poured down the steps.

The hybrid made it halfway up before her grip slipped, and she was sent crashing back onto the floor. The others continued fighting their way up; others had tumbled from the perch, too, and it was too risky to go back to help and try climbing up again.

Instead, Sage was forced to get up on her own, before she helped out the other two who had fallen with her. Rather than fight her way back up the steps, the girl merely froze the water immediately below herself and the other two, and closed her eyes. “Don’t move,” she managed, to the obvious discomfort of the two who - surprisingly - waited.

In moments, both to the shock and relief of the quarter saiyan, her vague disc of ice floated up off the wet floor and hovered up the steps, before depositing them at the top of the stairway, so they could fight their way further up the incline of the next corridor.

The continued their upward flight as the ship bucked and groaned and pitched them this way and that, making their progress significantly slower than it could have been. The constant stream of water that had flooded the bottom inch of the hall and raced down the stairs behind them further impeded their forward momentum, but they carried on, knowing - or in Sage’s case, assuming - that a cold, watery death waited for them if they didn’t.

Her head pounded as she chased after her group, barefoot and dressed up as a tart. She was getting soaked, and her tight, flimsy top did nothing to protect her against the adverse effects of a wet shirt. Mercifully, everyone - including herself - was too caught up in their fight for survival to notice.

They raced around another bend as the ship settled off again. Mercifully, it was just in time as they veered around a corner and up another staircase. They charged ahead, just as a massive, metal door was being lowered in their path.

“They’re closing the bulkhead! Run!!” someone shrieked. Sage did one better. Thrusting her hands out, frost webbed out along the big, metal obstruction, freezing it in its tracks, leaving the door halfway shut. Sage and those she was with were easily able to duck under the bulkhead and past the door that would have damned them.

Sage was too relieved to pick a fight, and politely forced her ice to retreat, allowing the door to slam shut. The others, however, screamed and yelled at the officers who had been trying to seal them out.

“The water’s not even upon us yet, and you would have sealed us in?!” was the most profound objection she had heard. It was true; if there was a tidal wave chasing them down the hall, Sage could have understood, but there was nothing, hardly a trickle.

She didn’t wait, though. Water was still on the floor, despite the sealed bulkhead behind her. This place wasn’t safe. Sage hugged herself, frowning at the prominent display of her cleavage, and then, suddenly, she blanched.

The water that had soaked her clothes had made them shrink. Her skirt, which had already started as absurdly mini as mini could go, now threatened to give everyone a look at her underwear even if she stood up straight. Pale skin flushed and turned red. At the very least, Gamer hadn’t altered her panties. It was an incredibly empty solace to take, as she had no idea how far Gamer had gone while she was unconscious, but it was one she was glad to blind herself with, or at least she would try to.

Mortified eyes darted this way and that, hunting for any sort of salvation she could find. There was nothing, not even a discarded blanket. It got even worse. A hand pressed into the small of her back, pushing her toward a crowd that began to form around what appeared to be yet another staircase, only this one had been gated off.

“They’ve locked us in!! They’re going to leave us to die!”

“Please help,” the person who had pushed Sage ahead asked. The girl looked down at the one speaking to her, to lock eyes with a young girl, probably just barely eighteen. She was chubby, with curly hair, but her vibrant, pleading blue eyes were what Sage noticed the most. “I saw what you did to that door. Please...”

The azure haired girl nodded, more to herself than to the teenager, and Sage tried to make her way through the crowd. When it became obvious that she wasn’t able - or willing - to push through the crush of people, the blue eyed girl jumped on an abandoned box, and began to shout. “Get out of the way! This blue haired lady can help us!! Let her through!”

“What’s this slut going to do?” came a retort. “You’re out of your mind.”

“We’re going to drown!!”

The crowd began it’s whirlwind descent back into madness. “Please!!” the girl continued to plead. “Just let her at the gates! Just let her try!!”

The conviction in the blue eyed girl’s speech struck a chord in Sage, and she found herself hesitant to move even as the crowd backed away from the gates. Finally, with a hand to her chest, she made her way to the metal that separated her and the others from salvation. Or at least, she hoped.

Merely looking at the heavy, metal bars was enough. They got colder, and colder. Frost grew thick on the bars, and the chill froze the water around Sage’s feet. Her breath drew out as a long, even plume, until, finally, she stepped aside. “Does anyone have a hammer?”

One man rushed forward with a shovel, and struck out at the bars as hard as he could, easily shattering them, and nearly careening down the stairway beyond. A thunderous cheer erupted behind Sage, who could only squeak her surprise as the crowd pressed toward the stairs.

Just as the girl entered the stairwell, another crowd swelled up from below, meeting hers and traveling with them in the upward stampede. Sage found herself thrown into the corner, where she waited for the rush of people to pass. The last person up the stairs, however, caused the girl to pale again.

“A-A-Alex-xander?” she managed, her eyes wide. Sage hugged herself and shrank into the corner while Ace narrowed his eyes for a moment. He reached up and put his smoke to his lips, taking a drag.

“Nice to see you, too,” he replied with a smirk, smoke leaping from his mouth as he spoke. “There’s no reason to be afraid of me,” he continued. “Sage, right?”

The girl nodded, and then bit her lip. “You’re... you’re n-not mad...?”

“For Dante’s Abyss? You fought and killed people, or people killed you. Hard to justify being angry about it. Unless you chose to be there,” he waited, gauging Sage’s reaction. Obviously, she didn’t have a choice. He suspected none of them did. “That’s what I thought. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“G... Gamer. He... brought us here-”

“Oh, no, this isn’t one of those stupid games again, is it?” Ace moaned. Sage nodded, explaining that - as far as she understood - they were inside a computer program. “So this isn’t real?” the girl shook her head. “Fuckin’ great,” he took another drag, and then offered it to Sage, who wrinkled her nose and shook her head, while waving the cancer stick away. Alexander looked the girl up and down with a mixture of amusement and empathy. The poor girl was obviously not comfortable in her clothes. “So they’re messing with our clothes, too, awesome,” Ace declared, shrugging his overcoat off his shoulders, before handing it to the girl. She hesitated for a moment, prompting the redhead to wiggle it before her. “It’s greasy but it’ll, uh, hide you better.”

That was all the prompting Sage needed, and she took the coat, throwing it over herself and hurriedly buttoning it shut.

[Alexander Trafford]

Of all the sinking ships in all the simulated oceans in all the virtual realities, she had to walk into his. Trafford smirked as he pondered the infamous Casablanca quote that he had modified to fit his own precarious context. The realization that he was in another avaricious man’s digitally constructed fantasy-land had not really come as a shock to the young psychokinetic. And, surprisingly, it had not angered him; Sage’s revelation carried undertones of relief for Alexander – at least he was not dead. In some undisclosed location, in some unknown time, his body was safe and sound. Well, at least he hoped that was the case.

“So, uh, how’ve you been?” Trafford muttered awkwardly as he scratched his head. He certainly did not hold any grudges against the cyan-haired ice queen; but that did not make their situation any less bizarre. Although he was vaguely aware of it, Sage had held him as he died in that frozen tundra; she had cradled his head in her arms as the life slowly left his body. The young girl had seen him when he was most vulnerable, and that made him hesitant. Alex was not keen of having others peer inside the casual and calm façade that he showed the world.

And here was Sage; a shy and peculiar girl who was less open than he. She’d witnessed the determination, grit and immeasurable sorrow that pulled at Trafford’s soul; and he had listened to the cyrokinetic unload her most guarded secret. They were two closed personalities who had caught a glimpse of what lie behind the other’s veil.

What could be more awkward then that?

“I-I’ve . . . I’ve been o-okay, I guess,” Sage stuttered through a reply. Alex smirked. Before their encounter on Dante, they had been allies on Mercy-Sei during a reptilian invasion, and he had nearly forgotten the depths of her shyness.

“You, uh, have any luck after Dante?” Trafford winced and immediately regretted asking the question. Even though it was vague, the inquest was bold and intrusive. His gaze immediately fell to the floor as he hinted at her quest for vengeance. As they rounded a corner Alex summoned the courage to lift his eyes from his feet and glimpse at his newfound companion – hoping that he had not upset her.

He was surprised when his eyes met hers, for they were not filled with anger, but with curiosity and confusion.

“You know, that . . . that thing you had to do . . .” his voice trailed off into a whisper. Whether Sage knew of what he spoke and simply refused to comment or if she was actually confused, he did not know. But he decided it best to abandon the topic immediately. “Well, uh, never mind then.”

Neither party sought to continue the strained conversation. The ice queen’s eyes dropped to her feet and she accelerated her pace in an attempt to keep up with the stampeding throng of third-class citizens. Alex followed suit, then reached into his breast pocket and withdrew another cigarette.

He did not know why, but he was fascinated with the cyan-haired girl. It was not an emotional attraction, or even a physical attraction – hell, he did not even consider her a friend – yet she piqued his curiosity. Perhaps she was a sign that he was not alone in this world. He knew that there were others like him – other people with . . . unique abilities, but everyone that he had met so far viewed their talents as gifts, rather than curses. For most of them, their capabilities were natural – they had been born with them. Whether Sage’s abilities had manifested naturally or not, she was another soul who seemed to be wandering through life searching for a purpose, for a place where she fit in.

Trafford lifted his head and exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, and caught a glimpse of his companion through a veil of bluish-grey fog. Perhaps everything he thought of her was incorrect, and maybe she was normal. But, at least in his own perspective, he seemed to connect with the valium-addicted teenager. To him she was a proof that he was not alone in this world; she was a symbol of possibility.

And that gave him hope. Was that not all that mattered?

[Victoria]

People were rushing by her, it was apparent that word of the ship sinking had gotten around. She moved aside as an older woman and a servant shuffled by with a large suitcase, the woman berated the man, upset that she could not take all of her luggage. Victoria rolled her eyes once they were out of sight. “A ship is sinking and all they care about is their materialistic possessions.” She continued down the long corridor, clutching the long fabric about her legs so that it wouldn’t drag or hinder her.

If anyone knows what’s going on, or how I can help, it’ll be the captain, she surmised, and stopped quickly at the sound of voices. She slowly entered the next hall, and watched an exchange between two passengers. The girl was visibly uncomfortable, wearing a long trench coat that did not suit her. Victoria watched from the doorway, curious that they were not rushing like the others.

“Do you know what the objective is, here?” the man asked, looking at the map that they had stopped in front of.

“From the looks of it,” The girl trailed off, “this ship is sinking, so I guess we have to survive that.” She looked away timidly, and then right towards Victoria.

The Hunter walked towards them, and adjusted her dress accordingly. “You’re both in the game, then?” she asked, looking at each in turn. “I met another fellow, he’s also in this game.” She held out her hand politely. “The name’s Victoria.”

The girl looked away, suddenly shying away from the proffered hand. Victoria looked at Alex, and he grasped her hand firmly in return. “Nice outfit, looks like you got lucky, not like my friend here.” He jabbed a thumb in the timid girl’s direction.

“Alex,” she looked at him suddenly, distraught.

“What? It’s true.” He lifted his hands in emphasis. “The name’s Alex, and this here is Sage.” He said to Victoria.

“I’ve got a plan, sort of, but you’re welcome to join me. Either way, we need to get higher, the lower decks are going to flood and the lifeboats may be our last resort.” She said, walking past the two players. “I don’t bite, either, so you don’t need to be so shy.” She lightly punched Sage on her upper arm, a friendly gesture.

She paused at the stairwell, looking up to see if there were any passengers nearby. “What exactly is your plan?” The man asked, having followed her, the girl in tow.

“Well, we aren’t the only ones in danger here, this entire ship is going down and there aren’t enough lifeboats for everyone. I want to find a way to save as many people as I can.” She explained, looking around the two and down the adjacent hall. “I’m going to find the captain; chances are he’s up on deck, or on the bridge.”

“What’s going on?” A voice interrupted them, and they all turned to see two more passengers headed towards them. Coincidentally they were both blonde. “Thought I’d track down the other person I knew to be real on this ship.”

“Kaden, right?” Victoria confirmed, furrowing her brow slightly.

“Right and you are Vicky,” he held out his hand. “Now that you’re not in such a rush, you said something about a plan?”

She shook her head and cleared her thoughts. “Yes, and this is Alex,” she motioned to the shaggy haired man, “and Sage.” The girl had turned away from the others, either out of wariness, or because she just didn’t care. Victoria contorted her face slightly and looked back at the new comers.

“Sage? I knew it was you.” The other blonde remarked, running forward to interact with the girl. “Oh,” she turned to extend a hand towards Vic. “My name is Sophia.” They clasped hands, and then she quickly turned away to Sage.

“Alright, now that we’ve introduced ourselves, let me explain,” the Hunter addressed everyone. “We can go about this event in a couple of ways. Gamer wants us to entertain him, that’s what I’ve gathered since coming here.”

“How is this entertaining?” Alex asked, “We’re on a sinking ship.” He looked around in mock amazement.

“If we weren’t any the wiser, we would be running around like chickens with our heads cut off. That’s probably what he wants, but I’m not about to do that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “While I was working downstairs in the engine room, I realized that these men and women, real or not, are also in danger. We can sit here, wait for the ship to sink, fight for our survival, or do the unthinkable.” She looked at each person in turn.

“You’re not thinking...” Kaden looked at her quizzically, “You want to save everyone?” he finished.

“That’s what I’d like to do, it may be possible, or not,” she shrugged lightly, and then readjusted her dress once more. “Do any of you,” she paused, remembering Joal in this time of need. “Can any of you manipulate metal?”

They all looked at each other, either shrugging or shaking their heads. “Great, that would have been perfect.” She snapped her fingers. Just as she did another shuddering groan echoed through the ship. “We have to go up,” she pointed towards the ceiling. “I know it’s a crazy idea, but it’s what I plan on doing. You can join me, or do your own thing; it’s no skin off my back. If either of you have any other ideas, I’ll listen, but we have to move.” She turned and started up the stairwell; unsure as to whether her acquaintances would be as eager to save a ship full of code.

[Kaden]

Save everyone. It was a ridiculous, lofty, virtually unachievable goal that would only serve to fuel the naive, soft-hearted savior complexes of the five captives struggling to survive a madman’s game. Kaden kicked himself for not having been the one to suggest it. Regardless, he wholly agreed with the idea. The thought there might be more captives on the ship – people like them – thrust into the roles of drowning victims nagged at the back of the courier’s mind.

The courier couldn’t help but smile as Victoria made quick introductions. That there was some mysterious hand guiding the Earthly events of late was beginning to seem less and less preposterous. Of course, Sophia and Kaden already knew Sage, and the courier had encounter Alex once before – being shot by someone generally stuck with him. Sophia did a quick double-take at the psychokinetic, leading Kaden to believe they had encountered each other before, though it was a guess on his part.

Despite the troubled circumstances of their last meeting, Kaden held no ill-will towards Trafford. He simply didn’t feel right holding a grudge for actions taken during a ridiculous event like Dante’s Abyss. That would just be petty. Actually trying to clarify their previous knowledge of each-other, though, would have taken time that they didn’t really have.

As Victoria began moving towards the upper decks, Kaden shot a glance around the group. Each person seemed to mulling over her proposition. The courier was also turning thought after thought over in his head, though they had nothing to do with whether or not he would help Victoria. Though they did seem to have to do with everything else. Sage’s ridiculous choice of foot-wear, the screaming from down the hall, the intermittent groan of the ship as water began to pour in, the people Victoria mentioned, still working below deck…

“How…“ the courier ran a hand through his hair. “What do they do when a ship like this starts sinking?”

“What do you mean?” the pink-haired woman stopped and turned back towards the group.

“They begin closing off sections of the ship,” Sophia answered the question, having experienced such a thing first-hand.

“Yeah, makes sense,” Kaden said with a deep frown. He sighed quickly. “I’m definitely with Victoria on wanting to save as many people as possible, but there are probably plenty of people who already need help. I’m going to go lower and see if anyone got trapped. I think Alex should come with me, and Soph and Sage can go with Vicky.”

Letting his eyes wander from one person to the next, Kaden felt suddenly uncomfortable with the stares he was getting. After a moment, they all seemed to exchange glances with one-another before turning back to the courier. He realized he may have been a bit pre-emptive in giving his opinion.

“You’re pretty quick to play the leader.”

“I…” Kaden found himself actually stunned at the source of the voice. Sage, of all people, had all but snapped at the courier. Recovering as quickly as he could, he continued. “I just mean we have no idea what Gamer’s still got in store for us. Maybe there’s nothing else, or maybe there’s some… giant sea monster waiting to eat us. I just think we should be split up as evenly as possible.”

“Well us girls do need to stick together,” Sophia replied. Kaden hoped she was just trying to give him a hard time.

“Well Sage and I are the strongest ones here. With us split up, Sophia and Victoria balance pretty well with Trafford. Seemed like the best way to make sure we’ll be able to handle any surprises.” More strange glances. “But hey, you guys can obviously do whatever you want,” the courier back-pedaled. “Like I said, though, I’m going to go look for people who’ve been trapped. I’ll head back upstairs when I can.”

As he gave a quick smile and turned away from the group, Kaden considered the curious stares he got when appraising the strengths of the group. It hadn’t occurred to him why he knew he and Sage were the strongest of the group, or that Victoria was actually the weakest, but he also didn’t have any doubt, whatsoever, in the analysis. Such a thing was almost as frustrating as it was curious. If he was just going to know things, it would be nice if he knew why he knew them.

Regardless, he had given himself a job to do and he was set on doing it. Fortunately, it was pretty easy to figure out which directions he needed to move in: the opposite direction of everyone else. The rising water and quickly tilting floorboards also helped direct the courier. There were also plenty of people concerned about missing children, valuables, and their own livelihoods. The courier approached a particularly hysterical woman who had hunkered down in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” Kaden asked, kneeling next to the woman.

She looked up at the blonde and began stammering a string of half-words between her sobs. From what he could gather, she had a daughter who she couldn’t find. She thought the girl was trapped further down the hallway. Giving the mother as reassuring a nod as he could muster, the courier hopped to his feet, took a deep breath, and started on his way.

[Alexander Trafford]

If Alexander thought his partnership with Sage had been dreadfully uncomfortable, then he vastly underestimated what awaited him in the next corridor. His current situation personified the pinnacle of awkwardness. Victoria he hardly knew, so she did not contribute to the strange nature of this party, but the other three had been participants in the Dante’s Abyss tournament – and he had fought all of them. The only other person (besides Sage) who had witnessed the true nature of his internal demons, who had glimpsed behind his omnipresent façade of cool casualness, was Sophia. His relations with Kaden were only bizarre to the extent that he had shot the blonde courier in the shoulder – and would have shot him in the chest if the simulation had not been terminated prematurely.

Why, then, would Kaden want to group himself with the likes of he? The psychokinetic rolled this over in his mind for a moment, before realizing that he did not particularly care about the motives of the former ‘wascally wabbit.’

“How does he know how strong we are?” One of the three females questioned, although Alex could not identify who (he thought it to be Victoria, but he was not positive); he was too busy watching the noble bastard move down the slanted hallways towards rising waters.

There was no response, as the question was perceived to be rhetorical. Regardless, the inquest piqued interest in the now-penniless-peasant. If Kaden knew about his strength, then perhaps he possessed further knowledge in regards to his abilities in general. If it was possible that the powerful courier could shed any light whatsoever on his scientifically engineered talents, then how could Trafford justify passing up such an opportunity?

The Omni Corporation themselves could not explain what they had done to him; the consequences of their current energy infusion projects were known in advance, of course, but how the end results came to be was a mystery in it of itself. And he had been their first ‘volunteer,’ subject to the injection of more raw power than any single human being in the history of the experiments.

Alexander nearly forgot to withdraw a fresh cigarette as he began walking down the corridor. But, luckily, he caught himself and gently closed his lips around a crisp Marlboro.

“W-where are you going?” Sage questioned him hesitantly, retreating slightly from the agitated tone that she had displayed in her interaction with Kaden.

“I’m goin’ wherever that guy is goin’,” Trafford replied as he glanced over the group. He had questions that needed answering.

As for the others, Victoria had already made her intentions known, but he was still curious as to what actions the priestess and the ice queen would take.

“Are any of you coming along?” He asked without any expectation of a verbal response. Then he simply smirked, turned on his heels, and continued down the slanted incline towards Kaden and towards the freezing sea.

[Jesper]

Sophia liked Kaden. That certainly was no secret or surprise, and everyone knew it, but one thing that she didn’t like about the courier was that he always seemed willing to take charge. Well…looking at him in that light, even that didn’t seem bad, but it was the arrogance that he could sometimes exude that made the healer’s skin crawl just a bit. Even when he was right, he might as well have not been, since she was naturally inclined to disagree. She had known about the character flaw for a while, but it never bothered her until that moment. Maybe it was just the weight of the things that had been happening to her for the past…year or so that did it.

But then again, the whole thing seemed so silly. If the ship was filled with actual people, then it would have been a different story, but with the way things stood at that very moment, the only logical conclusion that any of them could conjure up was that the only living, breathing people on the ship had met up in that leaking hallway. Sophia, Sage, Kaden, Alexander, and Victoria—that was it. To risk life and limb to save people who would disappear into oblivion anyway didn’t seem like it was worth it in any fashion. Despite her dissention, she merely nodded for most of the courier’s explanation.

Kaden merely walked off, ignoring the glares that Sophia in particular had been shooting at him. It was obvious that he didn’t particularly care what she did, nor did he value any opinion other than his own, much less hers. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and turned her head. There was no reason for her to be there any longer, and every moment she lingered inched her closer to a potential demise. The courier had already stopped to help a particularly crazy woman, and Trafford was tailing not far behind, carrying himself with the same kind of lackadaisical attitude that he tried to pass off as sincere.

“Are any of you coming along?” the redhead turned before he spoke, asking the question over his shoulder as he walked. Sophia sighed and rolled her eyes, turning her heel in the opposite direction to saunter in a similar manner. The two women who had been placed in her “group” raised their respective eyebrows at the action.

“S-Sophia? Where are you going?” Sage almost reached out to grab the healer’s arm, but retreated slightly when she realized what she was doing. Victoria said nothing, but her facial expression seemed to harbor a similar sentiment.

Sophia waved them off, sending not even a glance their way. “If you’re going to save them, you’d better start now.”

“You’re not coming?” the pink-haired woman in the prom dress inquired.

“Nope,” Sophia remarked simply. “You kids have fun, though.”

It was likely a callous course of action to be taking, but Sophia couldn’t find it in her to feel even the slightest sting of remorse. After all, it was a bunch of coding and technical mumbo jumbo that they were talking about saving. Sophia had already experienced nearly drowning, and the pain that still filled her lungs would have made it a difficult decision even if there was a real passenger dying right in front of her. As tough as a choice as it would have been to make, it made it that much easier to consider that there was actually nothing to save in the first place. In reality, there wasn’t a choice there at all. Just typical male chauvinism, and the other girls fell victim to it.

Sophia shrugged at the thought. It was their choice to make, after all.

Sighing, the healer made her way down the hallway, her boots splashing against the water that had accumulated at the bottom and was slowly working its way up towards her ankles. Gamer obviously had a plan for them, but if it was to escape, he made it difficult to place them inside a ship that was taking on that much water. If she was going to make it out alive, whether if it was weathering the storm by merely staying alive or making it to a lifeboat, she was going to have to go upstairs to do it. Exhaling, she ascended the steps, praying that she didn’t run into any hysterical passengers on the way to her freedom.

Kaden and Trafford were probably up where she had made it as well, though they were also probably lagging behind in an attempt to save every man, woman, and child who happened to have been coded in a spot nearby. Sophia resolved to be much faster about her business as she quickened her pace towards where she thought the upper deck would be. However, as she turned the handle of the door sitting just in front of her and opened it, she was remiss upon finding that she hadn’t quite made it to her destination, but rather the captain’s office, or at least that’s what she thought it was by the looks of it.

A man with sunken eyes and a scruffy gray beard sat at his desk with his head nestled between his palms. The navy blue jacket and an otherwise bright white outfit made her conclude that the man was the captain, though the healer supposed that his identity really didn’t matter in the long run. There were windows lining the walls on the other half of the room, and through them Sophia could see the rails—she had somehow made it to where she needed to be, but she had to walk through that one last room to get there. Taking a deep breath, Sophia began to tip toe further into the area, eyes never once leaving the handle to the opposite door.

“How did it come to this?” the broken man sitting next to her sighed. The healer froze, out of habit, and didn’t dare move despite her best judgment. “How could I let it come to this?”

The captain lifted his head to stare straight at Sophia. The healer winced and returned his glare, smiling nervously. “Uh…I don’t know what to tell you. Tough break?”

“Aye, that it was,” the man shook his head. “Ahab should have seen this coming, the old fool. Hunting the great white whale, only to fall victim to that accursed iceberg.”

Sophia could tell where things were going. Still, she felt compelled to ask. “Who is Ahab?”

“‘Tis I, young lass,” Ahab groaned. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be back in my home, with my raccoon cap, providing for the farm like I used to.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous,” the healer shook her head and tightened a fist. “First of all, I don’t have time for this. Second of all, Gamer seems to have the Titanic story mixed up with Moby Dick, and you confused with Davy Crockett. What the heck are they teaching kids in school, anyway?”

“You do not have the time?” Ahab stood up, suddenly furious. “You do not have the time!? All we have left is time, you irreverent wench, and I will not let you ruin our last moments together!”

“There are lifeboats just outside!” Sophia roared back. She clutched a large piece of her hair in frustration. “You’re not even real! Why am I arguing with you!?”

“Silence!” the captain shouted and slammed his fist into his desk. His knuckles cracked against the solid oak and split it right in two, showering the area with splinters of the wood. Sophia wasn’t particularly taken aback by the feat of strength—in fact, it seemed to come more as a shock to old Ahab himself than anything else. Looking at his hands, he began to speak once more. “It seems that the Lord has granted me strength in my final moments. Strength to vanquish his enemies!”

Sophia rolled her eyes. Gamer was definitely testing her patience.

[Kaden]

While he had no problem risking his own life to save someone else’s, Kaden had not been properly prepared for the freezing cold water that he had half waded into. Once he was numb from the waist down, he imagined it would be easier to deal with, but getting to that point was a slow, painful process that not many men would welcome. Since encountering the mother in the hallway, Kaden had managed to get himself waist-deep in his first rescue attempt. He stopped when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Son of a bitch, that’s cold,” came Alex’s voice.

Half-turning, the courier saw Trafford slashing through the water after him, and looking about as comfortable in the process. Giving the street performer a quick nod, the courier turned his attention back to the task at hand. The hallway they were in took a sharp turn and ran smack into a large, metal door. As he reached for the handle, Kaden could only hope that was what he had been looking for.

As he raised a ki-charged palm at the door, though, Kaden ran into a snag in his plan. The doors had been closed to keep water from coming into the ship. Once he blasted it open, he wouldn’t have any way of closing it back up. Running a free hand through his hair, the courier decided he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. As Trafford came to a halt beside him, Kaden loosed a bolt of bright blue energy.

The sickening screech of metal-on-metal filled the hallway as the handle was ripped from its proper place in the wall. Almost immediately, the door flew open and water cascaded outward, knocking both would-be rescuers off their feet. Thrown into the wall behind them, both were slow to recover.

“Really thought that one through, huh?” Trafford said.

“Could have been worse… I guess.” Kaden replied as he started making slow progress against the flow of water.

His hands shaky and numb with cold, Kaden had a difficult time finding purchase along the hallway to help pull himself forward. He watched his hands nervously as he trudged onward, worried that a slip would send him flowing back to where he started. Wasting that kind of time wasn’t exactly what he had been looking to do. Unfortunately, that was almost exactly what happened.

Caught in the water’s current, something came shooting out of the doorway, clipping the courier and knocking his feet out from under him as it went. Swearing turned out to be particularly difficult with a mouth full of sea water. Thrown back into the wall he had started at, the courier got a good look at what had hit him.

“Oh shit… that’s a person,” Trafford voiced Kaden’s thoughts.

Reaching down, Alex righted the girl and pulled her face out of the water. Through chilled fingers, he tried to check for a pulse or a heartbeat, but it didn’t take long to confirm that neither were present. Thrusting his own fingers against the girl’s neck, Kaden checked for himself. That, of course, produced no different results. As water continued to pound against him, Kaden cast a glance at the door he had broken.

“Well this went well,” he started. “Found a dead girl and made sure the ship’ll sink faster. Good job.”

Leaving the dead girl where she lay, Kaden began pulling himself to his feet when Trafford suddenly thrust a hand towards the door the courier had blown open. As Alex clenched his hand into a fist, the courier watched as it suddenly took on a shimmering orange glow. Then, to the courier’s amazement, it slowly shut and the entire frame warped slightly to keep it in place.

“That’s one problem taken care of,” Ace commented as his hand fell back to his side.

“I thought no one could manipulate metal like that,” the courier said slowly as the glow of his Sight faded from his eyes.

“I can do more than just metal,” Ace clarified.

“Crazy…” the courier was temporarily lost in thought as he eyed the door. “I guess it didn’t look the same as Vad’s…”

“Ahem,” Alex cleared his throat, bringing Kaden back to the present. “So, you can… what? See how people’s abilities work?” the performer feigned nonchalance.

“More or less,” the courier replied. “It’s not perfect though.”

Before Trafford could comment, Kaden began moving. His attempted rescue having resulted in complete failure left him… disillusioned with the idea of being able to save the people who had already been caught in the watery bowels of the ship. A small pang of guilt played at Kaden, but you he told himself that you couldn’t abandon people who had already drowned.

“I think we should get above-deck,” Kaden told his companion.

“Done playing hero already?” Alex quipped.

“Something like that,” the courier replied and cast a glance at the girl who was still floating in the water. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to help very many people.”

“Yeah…” was all Trafford said.

With a mutual nod, the duo waded back the direction they had come. It started as a slow, cold trek until something new came to the forefront of Kaden’s mind. As frustrating as the never-ending carousal that was his mind could be, it usually kept him from being bored. There always seemed to be something to mull over.

“Hey, do you know Sophia?” the courier asked.

“The girl wearing that blue-and-white number?” Trafford confirmed. “Kind of. We’ve run into each other a couple times. Wouldn’t really say I know her, though.”

Instead of verbally responding, the courier simply nodded. The priestess had seemed a little off, though she certainly hadn’t said as much. It troubled Kaden in ways he hadn’t expected. Of all people, he assumed he would have been able to count on her support in a tough spot, but maybe he had been too quick to think that. Between her demeanor and Sage snapping at him, the courier was quickly beginning to question… a lot of things. Fortunately, something was about to take the courier’s mind off of that.

As Trafford and Kaden rounded a bend, they saw stairway with a signed that claimed it went to the upper-decks. Between them and their ascension, though, stood a door and a burly-looking man trying to close it. Kaden vaguely recognized him as the man who had knocked him upside the head with a shovel upon his arrival on the ship. The fact that he was trying to shut in the two ki specialists didn’t sit particularly well with either of them.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Kaden yelled at him. He tried to move quicker towards the door, but lost his footing in the waist-high water.

“Too much water’s comin’ in. Gotta seal ‘er up!”

“With us still on the wrong side?” Trafford asked.

“Them’s the brakes. Sorry, kids.”

The sheer, unrepentant callousness poked at Kaden in all the wrong ways. Pulling himself to his feet, he continued towards the door, but it quickly became apparent that neither he nor Alex would be able to reach it in time to physically stop the man. Though, the courier wasn’t sure whether or not they’d be able to do that anyway… he was a big guy.

“You mind holding the door?” Kaden asked Alex.

Responding with a wave of his hand, Trafford weaved a sheath of psychokinetic energy around the door. Immediately, despite the large worker’s efforts, the door stopped. Struggle as he did against Trafford’s hold on the door, it wouldn’t budge. Raising a hand of his own, Kaden let fly a blast of cerulean ki that crashed into the man’s chest and hurled him down the remaining length of the hallway.

“A little overzealous, are we?” Trafford asked as he eyed the smoke rising from the burly worker.

“He should still be alive,” the courier replied. “Besides, he was asking for it. Now… there should still be something we can do to help upstairs. You coming?”

“Well it’s either that or stick around to watch the water rise.”

A good point.

[Victoria]

“I wonder what’s with her,” Victoria said offhandedly. The young woman had been giving her would-be companion looks that could kill, and he went gallivanting off to be a hero. It didn’t matter either way to the Hunter, especially when the only person left standing with her was the awkward girl with blue hair. “Hey, are you alright?” Vicky turned in question.

“Y-yes,” Sage replied, and quickly turned away. “What are we going to do?” she asked, watching as the water began to creep along the hallway.

“It won’t be long until we’re pulled under, will it?” The coral haired woman replied, as if the question had to be asked. “Let’s head up. At this point, I think that girl might have the right idea. Despite the brave actions of her friend, that wasn’t what I had in mind.” She nodded in the direction of the water where the two men had taken off.

“What do you mean? What was your idea?” Sage asked, hugging her arms against her body.

“I was going to go up top, see what the situation was like, and see if there could be a way to fix the damage. However, the rate of the water coming in, this ship is going to sink even if we fix the hole.” She started up the stairs again, advancing towards the deck. “You’re welcome to join me, but don’t wait too long, worst case scenario you can get on a lifeboat.” She called back.

She advanced through the ship towards the deck; sounds of people panicking made the journey easy for her. She followed the people’s voices, wondering just how the situation was. She walked onto the deck; the cold air chilled her immediately. It wasn’t just the air, it was the entire world. The doom lingered over everyone, making them cry or fight, it was a cluster fuck. Victoria walked past people sitting against cabin walls, or clutching to the rails. The ship was slowly beginning to tilt, a sign of what was to come. How are we going to survive? We’ll have to get on a lifeboat, but with so many people here that may be a feat. She mused, and walked along the chilly deck.

“Women and children first,” a voice barked. “That’s the law, step back or I’ll have no choice but to shoot.” Victoria looked intently at the scene. A few gentlemen were causing a riot with an officer; he was guarding a lifeboat that had a handful of people in it. They looked scared; she could feel the terror already. The men were trying to get on the lifeboats, but the officer wouldn’t have it, not until all of the women and children were safe. Vicky skirted by, not wanting to get involved. She also feared that, being a woman herself, the man would force her onto the raft.

A strange music wafted through the air, it was melodic, but wasn’t a classical feature. She had heard a lot of music during her stay in Zone 5, it kept her entertained. She had not heard the song that filled the tense air, it made her curious. She waded through the crowd of people, more of them pushing and fighting over the boats. She spotted eight men playing various stringed instruments, and she approached them.

“Why are you still performing? Shouldn’t you be trying to get on a lifeboat?” she asked a man playing a violin.

“Not until we’re told to board, ma’am.” He replied, and the music did not cease. She stood listening, finding the melodic music to be soothing. One of the men, holding a guitar in his hands, began to sing along with the beautiful music.

“What song is this?” She asked, looking at the singer, and then the violinist.

“I’m on a Boat,” he replied, and went back to playing. She crossed her arms, feeling a chilly breeze push against her. The deck was beginning to tilt, and the people were beginning to panic further. She didn’t want to be a part of the mass horror; instead, she listened to the music. It took dedication to do what they were doing, just as Joseph was keeping the lights on. Even as she thought of him, the lights flickered, reminding her of what would soon be the death of all the men below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bePWRZV2bcc

Aww shit
Get your towels ready it's about to go down
Everybody in the place hit the fuckin deck
But stay on your motherfuckin toes
We runnin this, let's go

I'm on a boat
I'm on a boat
Everybody look at me cause I'm sailin on a boat
I'm on a boat
I'm on a boat
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin boat

Victoria gave the singer a shocked look. Although he threw out vulgarities, sang like an angel, the lyrics to the song were not fitting to the ordeal. She thought that the melodic music would have been paired with beautiful words, a song to keep the passengers brave in this time. She watched and listen in confusion before remembering, it was not real, it had to have been Gamer.

She turned away in disappointment and noticed something peculiar, given the size of the ship there were a lack of lifeboats. She walked towards an officer, and questioned him. “How many lifeboats are there?” She looked past him towards the craft that he was monitoring.

“There are ten boats, Miss, and you ought to be boarding one now.” He made to grab her but she backed away before he could make contact.

“Ten for all of these people?” she asked, baffled. “That’s not enough.” She stared at him in amazement.

“Can’t tell you more than that, this ship was not meant to sink, but it did.” He replied and gave her a stern look. “Now I’d advise you to get on, or you’ll be taking a one way ticket to the ocean floor.” He reached for her again.

“No! I can’t leave yet, the others…” She argued, but he gripped her arm tightly and began forcing her towards the partially filled craft. “I told you I don’t want to go.” She fought back, trying to pry his fingers from her arm, and kicking at him in the shins.

“You want to die? Fine.” He pushed her and she fell onto the deck, she looked up at the officer in anger.

“I told you I have to wait for the others, I can’t leave them behind.” She climbed to her feet and flattened her dress. The man no longer paid her attention, he began helping passengers onto the lifeboat.

I’m going to die if I don’t get on, if there’s only ten boats, there may not be enough time for us to get a seat. She walked away, looking around at the people and their faces. I wonder if they made it up here, we have no choice now but to wait this thing out and fight for our lives against the event.

Vicky walked further up the deck, the boat had taken on a large tilt, and it was beginning to creak. She could picture the event now, the boat half sunken, and people falling to their deaths or drowning under the water. She had to tell the others that it was now or never, but they were nowhere to be found.

She waded through the people, and began to shout out their names, hoping they would hear her and come to her. All of her hopes were dashed, trying to save these people had been a fools dream, but trying to save her companions meant something else. She had to assume that the point of the event was to survive, and that meant getting on the lifeboats. With her dress hoisted from trailing the ground, she pushed forward towards the end of the boat, and sought out the others. The higher, the better. She reasoned, and fought to keep her own heart from beating out of her chest.

[Victoria]

Splashing echoed, one after the other, as the boats lowered down into the ocean. People filled the crafts, nearly full, but a few more bodies could have fit in. The boats rocked, nearly tipped, but stayed afloat with their passengers. Victoria watched from above, she gripped the rail tightly, clinging to the Titanic for dear life. How long until I fall? How long until we all fall? She questioned herself, the world was beginning to tilt and the deck was beginning to grow slippery in the cold night. People, unfortunate men and women, gripped to whatever piece of metal they could. The giant ship began to sink, being pulled under by invisible godly hands, the pure power of the water sucked it further and further into the depth of the ocean. Real or not, it was freighting. She pushed past crying victims, and held on to the stern of the boat, looking down helplessly.

“This isn’t real…” she said, although her teeth chattered and her fingers felt numb. The dress had been a poor design, giving her little warmth. “This…is just a game.” She watched frantically, down at the swirling water taking over the ship, and then at those around her. Did they make it out? Are they here, or out there? She could see the lifeboats, small lights lit their passage, and the survivors watched the destruction enfold before their eyes. She could only wonder what death in the event would truly mean, she did not want to die. “I-I’m not ready…to die.” She gritted her teeth, and looked at the person next to her, clinging with equal determination.

“None of us a-are…” He was just a boy, younger than her, but he looked at her with his stricken eyes. “W-when the ship is vertical, c-climb up.” He nodded with his head to the railing. She looked at the bars and then down at the water. It wouldn’t be long before that moment, as people were already beginning to slide down feebly against the diagonal deck. “You have to s-swim, it will be hard, b-but you have to.” He nodded, shaking from the cold. Victoria nodded, understanding his words; she would have to fight in a different manner here. She watched the young man, and noticed an equally horrified young woman clinging close to him and holding on for dear life. She turned away, and looked towards the dark sky in her last moments.

You couldn’t give me a monster to kill, or a tournament to win,[i] she asked to herself, [i]this is a fight that I have no way of knowing how to win. She blew into her hands, and nearly fell as the ship shuddered violently. She grabbed the cold metal and closed her eyes tightly. I haven’t done enough in my life, I’ve only just begun. She wanted to scream, but the cold air sucked the energy out of her. I have to get out of here and beat this guy to a pulp, I’m not about to lose, not yet. She opened her eyes, feeling a new surge of strength, and adrenalin. Victoria pulled herself through the metallic railing and perched on top of it. “Bring it on, Gamer! I’ll go down with the ship, but that doesn’t mean I’ll die, you just watch and see. You messed with the wrong woman!” She shouted, and a few weary faces looked at her. “I’m gonna r-ride this mother fucker down, I’m done playing games!” She held the bars, her knees bent, and her eyes wild like fire.

The lights had gone out, now, and the people cried and shouted. Their death awaited them down below, and the darkness only added fear to the people. Victoria awaited the moment, not the moment of death, but the moment where she would actually fight for her life. She would embrace the frozen water with all of her vigor, swim with all of her energy, and find a way to survive beyond that. She had the ability to live through life-threatening wounds, this would be no exception.

[Kill Town]

The sheer stupidity on display before Gamer simply baffled the teenager.

The idea was to escape the sinking ship. That was it. There wasn’t supposed to be any implications that went along with the ship, despite it being named the Titanic and everything. All Gamer could do was shake his head in amazement—he simply assumed that the first thought flashing through every player’s mind at the point of conception was to make sure that their asses were taken care of. Personal safety was an obvious trump card over the lives of computer programs, and that was a fact that should have been obvious. Apparently, it was not.

Luckily, the former priestess of all people was the first one to get that concept. Of course, it was because of his dick move in placing her into an already-flooded room that compelled her to snap, but the spirit was still the same. As she faced the half-crazed Ahab, the healer could only shake her head sadly—he had been given increased strength, but was slower as a result, not good for someone who was already dreadfully average. The angry sea captain tossed around punches like he was drunk and trying to hit a piñata, allowing Sophia to easily evade and jab him a few times in the face. Despite the fact that old Ahab was just a creepy program, Gamer had done well in creating him, as the blood that dripped from his nose seemed incredibly real. She had to give the teenager props as she decked the captain once more in the face.

“You’re crazy, old man,” Sophia rolled her eyes as the captain tended to the fresh wound on his cheek.

“They think me mad, but I'm demoniac, I am madness maddened!” Ahab responded as if he was quoting Shakespeare.

“Who’s they?” Sophia raised an eyebrow. “It’s only me.”

As the blonde was putting a few…finishing touches on the man’s face, Victoria found herself in a similarly precarious situation. She had foregone freedom by refusing to take a lifeboat—another decision that made Gamer facepalm—and had instead retreated up towards the top of the boat as it began to turn over and sink. It was a slow, arduous process that seemed to stare everyone in the face, creaking and moaning as it took its sweet time in getting done. Everyone who didn’t have a lifeboat knew that they were either going to drown or freeze to death. To her surprise, though, the rest of her group—minus Sophia—had caught up with her.

“What are you guys still doing here?” the pink-haired lady inquired.

“They ran out of lifeboats,” Trafford responded, his tone surprisingly steady. “All that’s left behind is a shitstorm. It’s a lot better up here.”

“Th-they’re, um…under prepared, it s-seems,” Sage added.

“Heh, yeah,” the courier chuckled. “They made all those compartments so that the ship couldn’t sink, but all it did was weigh the ship down. Hell of a concept.”

“So…what are we going to do?” Victoria inquired, keeping an eye on the ship as it began to descend further into the depths of the ocean.

Gamer smiled upon hearing those words. “Yes, what will you do?”

Trafford shrugged and pulled out a cigarette from his jacket. “Say your prayers and hope for a miracle, sister.”

Keith laughed at the comment. Their bravery, although brazenly stupid, was commendable in some ways, and he had always gone out of his way to reward such acts. With a click of a few buttons, he summoned the portals for everyone involved. Leaning back, he widened his grin. “Miracle sent, peons.”

1st: Kaden – 40 monies
2nd: Sophia – 30 monies
3rd: Victoria – 20 monies
4th: Trafford – 10 monies
Sage gets a pat on the back.