[1] Hunted at the Sandtrap

[Friend or Foe]

Sage
Sophia
Tempo
Rod Hardwood
Wizard
Juno


All of them had been captured in different ways. Some were kidnapped, some drugged, some beaten in a fight. But all of them shared the same fate. They were sitting in the middle of a desert with their hands tied and their heads covered with bags. Surrounding them was a team of guards, along with two unique-looking fighters.

"Alright," one of them said, "Take the bags off." One by one, the six fighters were given the ability to see where they were, and only noting a vast desert.

In front of them was two men, one pale white and one dark brown. The darker one was shorter with broad shoulders and arms, topped with red gloves. Next to him, the taller white guy with equally big muscles spoke up under his bald head. "Welcome to Friend or Foe," he said.

"Where are we?!" One of the girls said, frantic. "What's going on?!"

"It's simple," the man explained. "You are here to be given a chance at riches. There is another team on this island, just like. Six people. Kill them before they kill you, and you'll be awarded 100,000 zeni. That's all. No tricks, no games. Kill them, get paid."

There was a silence. The black chuckled a very slow, stupid laugh. "I don't think they believe you, Jackson."

"Don't worry, Balrog," the bigger man said firmly. "They will. When we leave, your cuffs will deactivate" he said to the prisoners. "We don't have time for a Q&A. Just be sure that we'll be watching. Cameras are everywhere."

As the questions shot out from the frantic, forced players of a dangerous game, the two walked away and loaded onto the jeep with the rest of the guards. The cuffs did indeed deactivate, letting the six stand up and talk amongst each other.

"What do you think, Jackson?" The black man asked. "They gonna buy it?"

"Probably not," he said honestly, "Don't matter none. It's too late for them anyway. This is the Sandtrap. They got more shit to deal with then sand and heat."






(You guys can just roleplay trekking the desert, or camping out, or splitting up, whatever you want to do. You'll all still be in the Sandtrap regardless, or roleplay here. If you do split up, I'll make sure you get different threads next round.

It's just you six in the desert. Alone. You all have one bag with you, which has minimal food and water. Just enough for one person. This round will last a day or so, so feel free to have nightfall.)

[Juno]

“Come on—now—lady, I barely—know your name,” Juno giggled through kisses as he was quickly pushed into his hotel room, his wine glass wobbling in one hand as he traced the spine of the woman who was obviously attempting to suffocate him.

They fell back onto the bed, Juno barely getting a chance to sit the glass on the bedside table as she crawled over him, ripping open his shirt and tossing it to the side. He never knew Earthlings could be so utterly hormonal; however, he wasn’t exactly complaining, because this was a beautiful woman—and Juno never passed up the chance to sleep with a beautiful woman.

In time, their clothes were piled on the floor and Juno was left lying underneath her wearing only boxer shorts to separate them. He kissed her neck ferociously, and then she spoke: “Take one last sip of wine, Juno,” she said, “It might heighten your senses a bit.” Juno nodded and reached for the glass, chugging what was left.

And then, he looked up at her, sitting the glass down, and felt her fingers slid underneath the cuff of his boxers. Before he knew it, they had joined the other clothes, as well—but the pleasure he’d been expecting didn’t come quite so quickly as he thought it would. Or at all, really. In fact, the next thing he knew, he was being shoved to his knees into what felt like sand. Cuffs laced his wrists, and he knew that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Alright, take the bags off.” With that, whatever had been blocking his vision was quickly jerked off of his head—it looked to be some type of bag, or sack, as the man had described, but Juno wasn’t sure. He was still drowsy; much of the rest of the conversation was missed by him.

He didn’t know where he was—his vision was blurry, his hearing shot, and his sense of touch weakened. He shook his head, searching for answers, but nothing worked. Eventually, the cuffs he felt on his wrists seemed to dissipate, and he collapsed forward, catching himself with his wrists and panting as everything seemed to be coming back into focus.

Juno looked down at himself. He was in a grey jumpsuit, one which resembled a prison uniform, and his hair was wet and disheveled. His vision was finally focusing again, and his hearing was getting stronger, but he still felt weak. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

He pieced together little bits of what the two blurs of men had said. It all rushed back, as if it has been stored for later usage in his brain. “You are here to be given a chance at riches. There is another team on this island, just like. Six people. Kill them before they kill you, and you'll be awarded 100,000 zeni. That's all. No tricks, no games. Kill them, get paid.”

One hundred thousand zeni? Holy crap, that was a lot of money. Hmmm. Let’s go over the situation: He’s out in the desert, in the middle of nowhere, with five other losers he has no idea who they are, and all he has to do is kill six people to get one hundred thousand bucks?

One hundred thousand zeni would be a good little thing to get him started comfortably on Earth. He would have to try. But more than anything, he’d play along with this little charade because he wanted to know what the heck was going on. He wanted answers. He wanted revenge. The money would just be an extra little prize, he supposed. Needless to say, silence had surrounded the group for a good long time—so, Juno decided he’d kickstart the conversation.

“Some welcoming committee, eh?”

[Sage]

About an hour had passed in the squalid little room the two sisters shared. Sage was on her bed, sitting up against the headboard with her pillow propped up behind her, reading a book. It was a short story anthology, which sought to group together all of literature’s great short works. Wether it had succeeded or failed wasn’t really for Sage to decide, but she was interested enough to keep reading it despite her ambivalence toward the text.

The azure haired girl heard a faint shuffling from outside her door. Her cracked, faded, peeling door. She tilted her head, slipping a her bookmark between the pages before closing the text and carefully setting it on her bed beside her. “Zena?” she inquired.

No response. The girl knitted her brows with growing concern. A sickly feeling of dread crawled up in her throat, and it felt as though she were on the verge of vomiting but couldn’t. She was just about to get up when the door was kicked open with a mighty crash.

Sage shrieked in fright as four men in black jump suits and matching balaclavas pushed their way into her room. She scrambled backward, across her bed, tumbled off of it and scurried away, until her back pressed tightly against the wall. “No!!” she exclaimed, shielding herself with her arms as they approached, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, “Go away!”

One of the bigger thugs grasped her wrists and effortlessly hauled her to her feet. “Come on, Sage. You’re coming with us,” he grumbled. She struggled fruitlessly against the man whose iron grip didn’t waver in the slightest.

“Just co-operate,” quipped another of the suspiciously-dressed thugs. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses instead of a balaclava, and fiddled with a toothpick in his mouth. “If you co-operate, we don’t have to hurt a pretty girl like you.”

The veiled threat was enough. With a whimper, Sage’s pitiful defiance melted away, and she was forcefully led out into the hall and down the stairs. Immediately, Carl intercepted. “Hey! Hey, you can’t-!!”

The big one who had picked Sage up silenced the overweight hostel manager with a brutal punch to the jaw, knocking him out cold. The girl gasped in shock, and watched the man who had taken it upon himself to act as a guardian for Sage fall to the ground. A pang of empathetic pain shot through her body as she was pushed outside toward a car.

For an instant, the world fell away, and through her mind flashed Aurelius’ wicked grin. She stiffened, pushing against her aggressors. She tried to run, but a hand clamped down around her upper arm and yanked her back toward the group. “Let me go!” she shouted, and received a vicious backhand slap in response. The force spun her around, and nearly toppled her over.

Her cheek was fire red, and her lip had split open. Blood trickled down her chin, and Sage could only stare, with horrified eyes, transfixed on the man who had struck her. “Get- in- the- car,” the man with the toothpick growled, as one of his associates opened one of the rear passenger doors for her.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she did as she was told. “Move over,” he ordered, and entered the vehicle as the girl slid away from him. The door slammed shut with her inside, and the men then clambered into the car. She was trapped between two of them, and two more sat up front.

“Say goodnight, sweetheart,” said the man to her right, before swiftly wrapping his arm behind her back and pulling her firmly toward him. While he had her in his grip, he pressed a strong-smelling rag against Sage’s face. She struggled violently. With her arms pinned to her sides, she kicked wildly, but to no avail. The chloroform overpowered her, and soon, she rested limply against the man, and the world faded away. Just before she passed out, she could hear something, something rather faint. “When are we coming back for her sister?”

- - - - -

Sage woke up to the horrifying world she had been cast into. Her hands were bound and a heavy bag blotted out everything around her. She trembled with fear, and it was only fear that kept her from bursting into tears. Just a few hours ago - she thought it was only a few hours, it was hard to say - she was on track to start a new job at a hospital, to continue her medicinal career. No, to start again.

All of that had crashed around her. And to top it off, they had threatened to come after her sister, too. Zena! her heart sank. They hadn’t been too rough with Sage, but she hadn’t put up much of a fight. The diminutive girl could only imagine what had happened to Zena, when suddenly, her hood was pulled off and the realization set in that she was but one in a group of several victims. And to her intense dismay, her sister was not among them.

“Where are we!?” came a voice to the hybrid’s right. “What’s going on!?”

A quick explanation ensued, something about money. They were supposed to... to kill people. Sage’s breath quickened. Was Zena in the other group!?

Some other things were said, and ultimately, the men left. Later, their cuffs all detached, releasing the captives. Sage took a quick glance of her surroundings. Desert. Desert was everywhere.

There were others with her, too. A beautiful, pale haired woman, the one she heard speak earlier. She seemed quite frightened by the situation, too. She saw three men, as well. There was another one, there, too, that she failed to notice. Perhaps it was for the best.

The azure haired girl sank into the sand, sitting on her knees. A faint breeze trailed sand over her, but she didn’t care. Her coral eyes were empty, and she stared straight ahead, unmoving and unspeaking, almost catatonic, while the others spoke among themselves. A deep frown scrawled its way across her face. Her heart raced. She didn’t know any of these people! What would she do? What could she do?! Sage bit her lip, and winced. It was still tender. She watched the others, praying they wouldn’t turn on her. But did she need them? Could she afford to shy away from everyone as she would have preferred to do?

Her eyes turned down onto the sand before her. “Zena... I'm... I'm scared. I wish... you were here. Please... come find me...” she murmured.

[Jesper]

Days passed. Sophia’s makeshift investigation of Theodore with Kira had slowed almost to a halt, and her training with Davin Baptiste increased in intensity. Everything hurt, even things that she didn’t know could hurt ached. She couldn’t complain; she knew the risks and implications of such a request as battle training, but she was starting to lose progress, and perhaps even interest. The temple slowly turned into the somber, tranquil place that she once knew. If she had lasted the first twenty-three years of her life without any formal training, she started to think that maybe she could last another twenty-three without it.

Or maybe that was the fatigue talking.

The candle in her room flickered out as she slowly started to nod off, leaving the room pitch-dark. She wasn’t exactly afraid of the dark, but every bump in the night tended to scare her witless. The priestess had dealt with such things before, particularly as a child, and every time she got scared, she would just curl up in a ball and wrap her blanket tightly around her body. Even if her mind played the inevitable tricks on her by casting figures in the dark that probably weren’t there, she could just close her eyes tightly and pretend that she was in a happier, and more importantly lighter, place. She wasn’t a child anymore. She was an adult. The priestess rolled her eyes at her own childish fears and tried to go to sleep.

Then the crash sounded. It wasn’t the typical crash that could be heard throughout the temple on a regular basis; those sounds were usually created by some clumsy monk bumping into furniture on their way to the bathroom. Such bumps usually caused Sophia to jump slightly and immediately fall back asleep. But this wasn’t a bump. It was a boom; a boom that shook the priestess out of her bed and onto the floor. Sophia rubbed her knee tenderly and slowly stood to her feet. The dark figures that she thought her mind had created suddenly seemed to be terrifyingly real. She attempted to take a step back as they drew nearer, but realized she had nowhere to go. The figure closer to her got closer. And closer.

“Thedore?”

WHACK!

The figure crashed its fist into her face. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled backwards and onto her bed. Of all the things that could have been noted about the situation, the thing that saddened Sophia that most was that it still could have been Theodore that she had been talking to. Her questions were answered as the lights suddenly flashed on, revealing two rather large men standing in her room. The one furthest away from her looked relatively annoyed. “Woah, what the hell, man? She’s on the ‘drug’ list.”

“Is she?” the man that decked her scratched his head. “Look at it again.”

The other man sighed and rolled his eyes, pulling a small slip of paper from a sack. “Yeah, she’s right here. Boss kind of has her in a gray area, though. We should use the most effective means of attaining her.”

“Well, she took that hit pretty well…” the man that punched her said. “We should just use chloroform.”

Just as Sophia was about to protest, the man took her by the shoulders and pinned her down on her bed. As the other man readied the chloroform, he began to chuckle. “Hey, this gives me a good idea.”

“You’re disgusting, man,” the man shook his head, cloth in hand. “Just pin her down. If the boss found out that we did anything but what he told us to do, we’re just as screwed as these guys.”

Words died in her throat as fear took over. Her mouth was covered with a cloth, and in time, she succumbed to sleep.

*

The bag was ripped off of her head. A dull pain filled Sophia’s eyes as her pupils struggled to adjust to the increase in sunlight. She looked around the area and was immediately dismayed with what she saw—sand, and lots of it. That, accompanied with the sight of several other people bound the same way she was, made it a pretty unseemly sight. Despite this, they were all greeted with a single phrase.

“Welcome to Friend or Foe.”

Sophia tried to stay with it. After all, she was usually the one that could be counted on to keep a level head. However, she didn’t think that anyone would blame her for asking a few questions about their situation. Looking up at her captors, she asked them. “Where are we!? What’s going on!?”

Her voice was a bit more panicked than she had intended, but the questions came out the same. The answer was casual, almost calloused. He spoke of another group of people that they were to kill for a monetary reward. Her stomach turned at the thought; wasn’t that the same mindset that the bandits had when they raided her temple? Money was valuable, sure, but it wasn’t worth the cost of a life. It never would be to her. She had made up her mind on the matter before he was even finished speaking.

Her instincts as a priestess soon took over, replacing any interest she had in what the men had to say. She barely even noticed them driving off or her handcuffs deactivating when she started to examine the other captives. The first person to even react to the situation was a tailed-man (she was immediately reminded of Dimitri—maybe they were related?). He seemed more confident and laid-back than the situation warranted, but maybe that was a good thing.

“Some welcoming committee, eh?” he commented. Sophia wasn’t sure how to react, so she just smiled a bit at him and continued looking around. Her eyes immediately landed on a young blue-haired woman. She had sank to the sandy ground below, and looked as though she was about to burst into tears as she sadly muttered something to herself. She legitimately looked as though she wanted to burrow down in the sand and get away from it all. Although the priestess didn’t blame her, she knew that she had to do something to help this poor woman. Even if it was just a word of encouragement. Brushing the hair back from her eyes, she slowly approached her.

“Um…I know, I’m scared too,” she spoke, wincing at the awkwardness of her words. All she could do was continue with a smile. “But…everything will be alright.”

“I-I know…” she answered quickly, turning her body away from the priestess slightly. Sophia sighed and sat down on the sand a few feet away from her. Maybe she didn’t need words.

[Juno]

“Some welcoming committee, eh?” Juno scoffed. He placed his hands upon his hips confidently and surveyed their surroundings, searching for some sign of hope. There was nothing to look forward to, unfortunately—all that was around them seemed to be a hopeless abyss of rocks and sand.

The group around him remained relatively silent for a while. At his remark, however, they all showed some sign of life—they glanced up at him, and Juno couldn’t tell whether it was in disgust or admiration of how he had so boldly broken the eerie quiet that had encircled them for so long. At that though, he glanced at his companions; almost immediately, one member of the pair of females caught his eye.

She was strikingly beautiful. Long, blue hair was tied in pig-tails that drooped just below her waist, and tears seeped forth from her violet eyes down her pale cheeks. She had fallen to her knees, sinking down into a crippled, fearful position in the sand; the other woman—young, blonde, but to Juno, not quite as beautiful—had knelt beside her.

The blonde seemed to be trying to calm the other down, but nothing was working. Juno fell into a sympathetic position and crossed to them, standing over the pair, observing. The pair looked up at him, but the blue-haired woman quickly averted her gaze. “She’s scared,” the blonde told him, and try as he might, it was difficult for Juno to find something wrong about her cowardice. He knelt on the opposite side of her and attempted to gaze into her eyes, but she shielded them from him. “I’m Sophia,” the blonde said, distracting his attention.

“Juno,” he replied, and then fixated his thoughts back on the girl who he would come to know as Sage. Reaching out, he wiped a tear from her cheek, and she glanced up at him. “Shhh,” he comforted, running a hand through her hair, “It’s all going to be alright. You’re fine.” And he pulled her head into his shoulder and felt her tears soak into the gray jumpsuit. With his other hand, he patted her back, attempting to calm her nerves. He looked up at the blonde. “I suppose I just have a way with women.”

She smiled, but still did not seem that amused. She stood and looked over the group. Three still had not integrated themselves into the social scene. For one of them, however, that was soon to change. An older man, his hair touching at hints of silver—Oliver Nash, as he would be known—this silence had gone on long enough. “Alright, everyone, group counseling’s done, we’ve got to get moving.”

“Moving where?” Sophia barked. “Can’t you see that she isn’t in any position to be chastised?” Juno stood, pulling Sage up with him. He kept her close at hand, however—he wasn’t about to let a damsel-in-distress get hurt. It just wasn’t gentlemanly. The other two men—both humans in appearance—stood up, wondering what was going on. Their group wasn’t getting split ends already, was it? Juno’s heart sank. They had power in numbers. They wouldn’t survive if they didn’t stay together. Voices began to blend together as arguments began.

“Everyone! Shut up!” Juno yelled across the group. Silence once again reigned as he helped Sage into the arms of Sophia and leapt up onto a small boulder, placing himself above everyone else. “Listen to me,” he began, “We can’t do this. We’re out here alone, and all we have is one another. We have to support each other or we will never stay alive.”

“He’s right,” Sophia agreed, “We have to not split up. We can’t cause tensions now.” The group nodded.

“Survival right now is our only goal. I don’t care if you want the money. I sure would like the money, but right now, I’m more focused on getting my questions answered. We have to stick together. There’s no other way. Those guys—whoever they were—they want us to play their game, so let’s play it smart, okay? We have power in numbers. There’s six of us. So let’s try to keep it that way, okay?”

Juno looked about him, and stepped down from the boulder. He quickly walked over to Sage and made sure she was still alright. Then, he looked over towards the other three guys. They nodded, seeming to know what he wanted. “Alright, guys,” he said, caressing Sage’s shoulder. She shivered at his touch, and he could tell that she didn’t like all of the attention that she was being given. So he retracted his hand and collected himself. “Let’s get moving.”

[Kappa]

Continued From: The Wizard of Oz

"Holy Shi-!"

The pompous guard nearly fell off his reclining chair when he saw the old man conquer the behemoth. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape, and his popcorn had spilled across the floor of the surveillance room. There it was: a black and white portrait of David and Goliath, shifting every few seconds as the Wizard gasped for breath.

Suddenly, the onlooker felt a cold touch on his shoulder. Four fingeres crawled around his frontside while a thumb stabbed into a pressure point on his back. Officer Reid needn't turn to see the man as there were few that could invoke such a chilling feeling in his spine. It was the Warden and the atmosphere of silence was self-explanitory. "Putting on a little puppet show, are we? Hank, you almost lost alot more than your job with that little stunt. But that son of a bitch in there just saved your life ... you ought to thank him."

Meanwhile, the beaten man continued to bleed out onto Chester's carcass and he could feel the life escaping him. Despite his cinematic finisher, it seemed this might be the end for him. Grunting, he summoned what energy he had left to roll himself off the creature. A splash of crimson painted what dry scales remained on the monster's hide as the Wizard fell face first in a pool of his own blood. "Splagh!" He coughed, adding some darker hues to the floor's bodily fluids.

Just before the middle-aged human succumbed to the blood loss, he heard the creeking of the door followed by a pillar of light. What emerged from the light was an Angel of Death. Fading in and out of consciousness, Oliver looked up weerily at the mysterious figure. Clad head to toe in stark white business attire, the faceless man tipped his hat to the nigh-deceased.

"You're free to go," he had said. And thats the last thing Oliver remembered before--

***

Before coming here. Light had brought him out of the world, but now: 'Darkness. Nowhere is everywhere. A vast stretch of nothing. Is this purgatory?'

Being tossed around with only an unending canvas of black to look at felt alot like falling, he observed. Much like when he had lept from a South City building, Oliver felt defenseless against the forces of nature. There were murmurs all around him. "Those don't sound like angels..." He thought out loud.

There was a zip as the shroud pulled away from the man's weathered skin, like fingernails on leather. Oliver spent the next twenty seconds blinded. All the while he tried to comprehend his situation. Whether the effect was physical or psychological, it was clear that the convicted 'South City Ripper' was still dealing with the shock of it all. His ears twitched and he caught a few segments of the conversation. "Another team on this island ... kill them ... no tricks, no games." The Wizard found the last part hard to believe and it wasn't just his detective's intuition.

By the time their bindings had been unglued, the eldest of the group had regained his senses. He stood up, stretching the ache out of his arms and legs. Squinted eyes peered out into the sandy horizon and then toward their little hunting party. Quicker than he anticipated, the sand filled his ears and cracked his lips.

Thats when a thought struck him; and he responded by checking his stomach, feeling around for some kind of injury. Rather suddenly, he tore open the fabric to see the wound that had ailed him only moments ago. His touch was greeted by six scar-torn abs, but no blood, nor were their any marks of the great blow Chester had dealt him. The Wizard's discovery confirmed his greatests fears. The realm in which he dwelt was no longer that of the living.

Gritting his teeth, the man ripped the rest of the clothes from his upper torso, exposing his mark. Shaped like the jagged blade of a thunder God, it projected a white glow. From the scraps of cloth he designed a makeshift scarf and hood to better brave the sandstorm.

"Y'know, I expected Hell to be alot hotter."

Yes, the Wizard had fallen from the world, into this... Oddworld. And now he was a pawn in a devil's game.

[Tempo]

Tempo sprinted down the cobblestone path and out of the gates of the town he once called home. No more would that title suffice. It was a wasteland now, one that he could never return to. Tears rolled down his cheeks and flew off the side of his teenage face. He stumbled over his own feet, but managed to quickly regain footing. The music in his ears was blaring, the loudest he had ever set it before. The young man wasn’t sure if he was still being chased, but he wasn’t going to stop to find out. Suddenly a figure jumped out on the path in front of him. Time slowed down for that instant. He had been capture, but by whom.

***

Tempo was sure that it was over. The men from attack on Treble Town had captured him, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The sheltered life that Tempo had lived came to a crashing halt. Just a few hours after narrowly escaping the war zone that Treble had become, he was thrown into a whole other ball game. The bag that covered Tempo’s head was quickly removed sending a rush of light into his face. Sweat covered his pale visage and his normally spikey orange hair was flattened. The blurry humanoid figures that were scattered around him slowly started taking shape. The orange haired teen quickly surveyed the area to find that other than the random people around him there was nothing but desert on all sides.

"It's simple," the man explained. "You are here to be given a chance at riches. There is another team on this island, just like. Six people. Kill them before they kill you, and you'll be awarded 100,000 zeni. That's all. No tricks, no games. Kill them, get paid."

Kill? Tempo immediately regretted hearing the unknown man speak. He had just barely escaped death not too long before being whisked away into this “game” and now his life was immediately threatened again. He clenched his stomach feeling as if he were about to vomit. He counted six other people around him who looked just as worried as he was.

He plopped onto the hot sand of the desert with a worried expression on his face. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed one of the fellow captives taken a stand. The orange haired student probably should have been listening to what the boy was saying, but he couldn’t get the horrible imagery of Treble Town from his head.

Tempo’s breathing suddenly became irratic. He could feel the rage and fear start to consume him from the inside. The teen quickly reached into his pocket and hit the play button on his MP3 player. His eyes closed shortly after as he let the music drown out the words of the one called Juno.

[Sage]

Her limbs felt like lead weights. The sun beat down on her mercilessly, but it didn’t really register to the girl, who had long since traveled to some far-off place in her mind, when that blond woman spoke.

“Um... I know, I’m scared too,” she hesitantly offered. Sage jumped at the words, having not noticed her approach. “But... everything will be alright.”

Sage’s coral eyes were fixed straight ahead, staring at absolutely nothing on the empty horizon. “I- I know...” she stiffly replied, shifting uneasily away from the other woman. She heard a sigh, and out of the corner of her eye saw the woman take a seat only a few feet from her. But she did not approach. At this Sage relaxed somewhat. This girl seemed... nice enough, but the hybrid feared some kind of deception. Still, her nonthreatening demeanor coupled with... something strange... this girl seemed different, somehow.

“I...” the azure haired girl began, but fell silent. The priestess looked on in silence, a gentle expression on her face. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head, returning her gaze to the sand. Soon, however, a pair of boots blocked her view. Sage chanced a look, before swiftly breaking her gaze far off to the right. A fairly confident-looking young man lorded over she and the blond, and she unconsciously shrank away from him.

“She’s... scared,” the woman offered. The black haired boy simply raised an eyebrow, appraising the blue haired girl who appeared to be desperately trying to shirk his attention. “I’m Sophia,” interrupted the priestess, breaking the man’s attention, much to Sage’s infinite relief.

“Juno,” he replied. But he once again focused on the hybrid princess. He leaned in, reaching out to her face, in attempt to wipe a tear from her face, but the girl sharply recoiled, as if from the strike of a viper. “Shh,” he tried, reaching out again, and again, Sage pulled away, scurrying backward on the sand. He threw his head over at Sophia and offered a mirthful smirk. “I suppose I just have a way with women,” he sarcastically remarked.

“Alright, everyone, group counseling’s done, we’ve got to get moving,” came the raspy order from an aging man a few paces farther off than Juno. He glanced at Sage with more than a hint of disdain, to which Sophia protested.

“Moving where? Can’t you see that she isn’t in any position to be chastised?”

Sage’s gaze fell back onto the young priestess. She and her must have been close to the same age, she realized, having finally taken a long look at her. But... why... why was she going to so much trouble to defend her? The two had never met. Confusion spread across her visage as the scene played out.

Confusion turned to shock when two hands fell upon her arms. She cried out in surprise - causing some confusion for the other members of the group - as Juno hauled her to her feet, and as soon as his grip was loose enough, she pulled away from him, instinctively retreating behind Sophia, much to even her own surprise.

Her shriek had sparked an argument, or so it seemed to Sage, until the black haired man leapt up onto a small boulder. “Everyone shut up!” he demanded. Surprisingly, a hush fell over the group. “Listen to me, we can’t do this. We’re out here alone, and all we have is one another. We have to support each other or we will never stay alive.”

“He’s right,” the priestess chimed in. “We have to not split up. We can’t cause tensions now.” this was a frightening prospect for the blue haired girl, but being stranded alone in the desert wasn’t a much better prospect. Juno’s speech continued, but Sage was too distracted to listen. She was no leader anyway.

The confident warrior hopped down from his boulder and once again approached the blue haired girl. She tried to keep Sophia between them, discouraging Juno somewhat. Her fears, though irrational, were incredibly powerful. “Alright guys,” he looked to Sophia, and then back to Sage, and tried to place a hand on her shoulder. She shivered uncomfortably under his touch, and the realization finally dawned on him. His hand pulled away, and he regained his composure. “Let’s get moving.”

The diminutive quarter saiyan nervously clasped her hands against her chest while the group’s attention shifted focus around Juno. A conversation began among them as they discussed their options for survival.

Sage, however, found her attention returning to Sophia. She hesitantly crossed the space between them. Several feet still remained from her to the priestess, but for Sage, this was close. “Uh...” she began, almost inaudibly. “S-Sophia, I, um...” she furrowed her brow, concern almost visibly spilling out of her. “Thank you,” her voice cracked as she said it, and immediately, she looked away, as though breaking eye contact was some form of retreat. Sophia appeared to ponder something for a moment.

“Hey,” the blond replied, and the shorter girl hesitantly returned her attention to the priestess. “You know,” she sighed, trying to convey her thoughts sensically. “That boy, Juno. He was just trying to help.”

Sage turned this thought over in her mind and returned her gaze down to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she finally replied.

“It’s nothing to apologize for-” she paused, fishing for the girl’s name, only to realize she didn’t know it. “Hey, ...what’s your name?”

For a long time, the blue haired girl said nothing. The patience - at least outwardly - Sophia had was nothing short of amazing. This girl was obviously horribly traumatized over something, perhaps the game itself, and it made even the basics of conversation difficult terrain.

Finally, the girl spoke, her voice hardly a whisper. “Sage,” she replied.

[Pinky]

Earth, in the downtown area at the city of Hedonopolis…

Rod was leaping from one empty back alley to another, his impromptu now-unconscious co-voyeur Leer slumped over his shoulders. He had made a clean escape from the school’s grounds which wasn’t a very difficult task, since nobody in the whole of the city could match his speed or agility. At least, that’s what he thought…

So, it was a complete surprise when he caught the shadowy movement out of the corner of his eye. It was too fast to react to and he felt the sharp, stinging pain of a fierce blow against his temple. Immediately falling limp, Hardwood and his passenger bounced off the ground a few times before coming to an abrupt halt against a hard brick wall.

“That was too easy,” someone said as a pair of figures closed in on the dazed man. Rod tried to get back to his feet, but the damage he had already taken was too much and instead of rising to the challenge he blacked out.

* * *

"Welcome to Friend or Foe."

"We don't have time for a Q&A. Just be sure that we'll be watching. Cameras are everywhere."

Hardwood watched as the jeep drove off into the horizon. It was so random and unexpected that he didn’t know how to react. Of all the times for the universe to take a piss all over him, why now? The promise of a cash reward didn’t even register. This was just too much, and at too wrong a time.

Rod simply stood there, sweat already beading on his forehead, as he listened to all of the others talking to one another. It seems that they hadn’t taken much notice of him, if any at all. Perhaps his long-honed skill of maintaining total anonymity, even among such a small group in the middle of a barren desert, was a little too good.

Rather than draw attention to himself Hardwood began to rifle through his pockets: all of his impromptu spying tools were intact, sans the digital camera. Did they take it from him while he was unconscious? It must be so. One of the mysterious goons had said something that left an impression that each sandy dune was festooned with surveillance equipment but perhaps they didn’t want to be put under the same circumstances.

However, Rod still had the pair of young girl’s panties in his pocket. At least they hadn’t taken that!

Turing his eyes to the five other members of this “team” Rod noticed that there were a few too many people of the feminine persuasion for his tastes. Sure, there was only two of them, but they were likely more dangerous to him than anything else that this acclaimed other team could throw at him.

After taking stock of the situation Hardwood decided to consign to just being a quiet tag-along, staying far enough away to avoid getting too close to the others but not so distant as to lose track of them.

[Kappa]

A second skin of dust and sand started to build atop his chest. Thankfully his vision was somewhat preserved due to his improvised head-dress, at the expense of a welcoming appearance, but that didn't matter much to the aging fellow.

Piercing eyes escaped the older human's makeshift turban as the young Juno barked orders at the group of six. Was this monkey-esque humanoid declaring himself leader? The man felt his stomach turn at the idea but decided not to speak up, through gritted teeth. Oliver would accompany this party of children, if only to better understand this maze, but he would have to keep on his toes. There could be sleeper agents amidst their rag-tag ensemble. 'Trust no one,' he thought to himself.

Given a moment of thought, Oliver analyzed his surroundings. In some theologies, Hell was a layered dimension. Perhaps this was only the first layer, which would explain the challenging but yet survivable weather patterns. The deeper they travelled, the more dangerous this realm would become, if that were the case. Alternatively, they could have been in an extra-dimension that was of the Devil's architecture. "The space between a blink and a tear..." He mumbled, his voice muffled by the cloth. And where had the lot of them come from? Oliver had seen his end coming, but one could assume—by the amount of confusion going around—that most of the others had died unsuspectingly.

Wherever they were and whoever was accompanying him, he had a gut feeling that it was only going to get tougher from here-on-out. After hearing out Sophia and the Monkey, Oliver nodded. "Aye," he admitted, throwing his voice now, "united we stand, so long as you lot can keep your balance.” The old man threw his words and gaze at the young girl, Sage, scowling at her innocence.

The Wizard extended his right arm, forming the hand into a bridge over his eyes. Sufficiently guiding his eyesight, he did some regional surveillance. It was an open, barren wasteland. There were no beacons or structures to help give them direction, as suspected. It was Hell, alright. But they would find a way out.

“Alright, it seems there isn’t any right way to go in this demonic playground. That considered, we’re fairly exposed so I suggest we travel in a huddle with lookouts, in case we run into trouble. With the strength of six, it’ll be easier to brave the storm, too. I’ll watch the rear. Boy, you take the lead.”

[Kappa]

“Boy?!” The saiyan queried as he leapt inches from where Oliver stood. A youthful fire burned in his eyes that the former detective both admired and detested. “You don’t know who you’re talking to old man,” he said, arms waving in the elder’s face in protest, “and we’re not your militia—“

“Trust me, you wouldn’t make the cut.” The Wizard growled, cutting Juno’s dialogue in half. Apparently he hit a sore spot as it provoked the stubborn sprout to make a fist. Unafraid of Oliver Nash—who frankly towered over the boy—Juno thrust his arm forward, but alas it was caught and stopped mid-air by Sophia. Her cheeks were flushed and she pushed the saiyan back a few feet. Clearly bothered, the maiden of mediation spoke up. “Are you two mad?! We’re never going to make it out of here if we kill each-other; stop acting childish, both of you.”

Oliver Nash was silenced for a moment by the woman’s scorn. She was strong willed but naïve, he observed. The lot of them needed to learn their place. Smirking, the Wizard stepped back. He brushed some dust off his chest, almost condescendingly. “That pride will be the death of you out here,” he muttered to his temporary adversary. It earned him an accusing glare from Sophia. This time, though, Juno took the higher road and remained unconfrontational. “Let’s get moving” The saiyan said. With that, the group began their travels—putting tensions aside… for now.

---

The Wizard felt a sudden jolt beneath his rib cage. He cringed, left arm moving to cradle his chest. Quickly, he turned away from the group, to avoid any unwanted attention. -Not again-. He cursed whatever it was that was ailing him; it was the same sensation that struck him in his bout with the titanic beast. There was something changing inside the old man, some bizarre metamorphosis that was born in him that rainy night. It felt like there was a fire moving through his veins, blazing at his core. A faint aura started to resonate from his mark and Oliver’s attention was drawn to his open palm, wherein a white flicker of energy manifested. ‘What is this magic?’ he wondered. Before he lost himself to this phenomenon and risked exposure, he closed his fist. Just as quickly as they had come, the lights went out.

Oliver stepped back into the group, a misfit ensemble of spirits much younger than he. They looked scared, confused, and inexperienced. But he had reason to believe all was not lost in this Hellish wasteland. The Gods were placing their trump in Oliver, he could feel it. And that’s why he was confident he’d escape this place.

[Friend or Foe]

They were moving, at least, which was more then they could have said originally. With Oliver Nash at the front of the pack and the boy named Juno right behind him, the group of six was slowly by surely making progress. Behind the men in front was the ladies of the pack, Sophia and the nervous Sage. Behind them was the quiet Tempo and even further behind, taking up the rear, was Rod Hardwood.

"I think we're making progress," Oliver Nash aka the Wizard said from in front. "It's getting cooler, which probably means we'll be off of this desert within the next couple hours."

"Cooler?" Sophia asked, surprised. "I was going to say it's getting hotter."

They had all been mostly silent, except Oliver Nash who continued to bark instructions. It wasn't that he was bossy. No, a better description of Wizard would be to say that he was efficient. He made sure there was no excuses and everybody knew everything that was expected.

Of course, only the four in the front actually heard what was being said. Tempo was near them, but he had his music blasting in his ears, trying to keep his mind off of this situation he was randomly thrown in. Further behind was Rod, who quiet simply didn't want any part in the social scene.

Then suddenly, Wizard stopped. Juno smacked into him. "Hey!" The boy shouted, riled up. "What did you stop for?!"

"The sand moved," Oliver Nash said simply.

"Uh...okay," Sophia responded. Inwardly, she was rolling her eyes. The guy was starting to seem crazier and crazier.

Then everybody saw it. Sure enough, right in front of the group, the sand rippled like a wave, as if something was under it nudging it upwards in a smooth line. All four of them backed up, causing Tempo to surprisingly bump into them. Rod, who was actually paying attention, stopped all together, slightly behind them.

"What is it?" He asked, which was just about the first thing he had said since they started.

"Something is...under us," Wizard told him, pointing down to emphasize with his finger where he was directing.

As if it would actually show him something, Rod looked down and saw only sand. "Right," he said, "Sure. Under us. Under the sand. I get it. Very clever."

Rod took one more step, clearly unbelieving.

Something stuck out of the sand like a bullet. It was a long tail-like pole, bending towards Rod Hardwood. It's sharp end stabbed into his back, sticking into his back and poking out of his belly. Sage let out a loud, surprised whimper and Tempo shouted out loud in shock, literally falling backwards, spilling his MP3 player.

Rod was raised up from the sharp needle sticking through his body. Even though he was twitching, Oliver Nash knew from experience that even if body was still alive, his mind was already gone. He was a dead man.

The tail yanked backwards, stuffing Rod Hardwood into the sand.

"Run," Wizard whispered, "Turn and start moving, NOW!"

Nobody argued this time.








(Rod Hardwood is dead. Everybody else has advanced.)