capeandcowllogs | THE GREATEST SHOW UNEARTHED

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THE GREATEST SHOW UNEARTHED

WHO: The HABIT

whocouldwinarabbit and his eighteen lucky Rabbits.
WHERE: Yankee Stadium.
WHEN: Tuesday, November 13 afternoon onward.
WARNINGS: Not for the children. Graphic murder expected.
SUMMARY: THUNDERDOME.
FORMAT: Whatever our contestants would like.

"Rise and fucking shine, campers!" blasts the loudspeaker.

Eighteen bodies. Not a bad turnout. He's hauled them into the locker rooms to wake up together, tied balloon strings to their wrists, the balloons Skittles colors. Angora, some say in sharpie, Flemish Giant. And all have a smile drawn on, bunny ears on top.

"You're probably wondering what the hell you're doing here, right? Wonder no more! Welcome to the Trials, rabbits. Time to feed the HABIT."

The crowd roars in response, their fists in the air. They're not nearly enough to fill the stands, not hardly, the count's barely crawling up to a hundred -- but it's the impassive eyes of the cameras set up around the stadium that matter. These idiots are just for the noise of it.

"Now, see, the rules to this game are real simple. All you gotta do is kill everybody else. That's it! What could be easier, right? Knife in the brain. Sword in the guts. I don't care how you do it, just do it, meat. Look at it this way: the Porter'll bring you back good as new. So... what's keeping you? Besides, hey... the winner gets a prize."

HABIT laughs tinnily through the sound system, over the sound of the crowd. "If one of you makes a break for it -- go ahead! I encourage it, make your move -- but you will notice that there's no escape. Can't have you spoiling my fun, now can we? The good people up there in the stands paid twenty-nine ninety-nine for a show, and by fucking golly, they're gonna get it."

"Now... if you'll look at the balloons for your group assignments. Flemish Giants, why don't you come on out here? No, no, hey, don't be shy. Being first is a big ol' honor. So show us some blood!"

He hits the music, and opens the doors.

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[Of all the insanity he's encountered through his years as a masked vigilante and public defender, this has to be the most ludicrous, the most depraved, the most utterly demented situation he's ever found himself in. A fight to the death? Against a well known business man and the mayor's personal bodyguard? Was this some sort of joke? Unfortunately all signs point to no, and so the three of them were left standing in the arena, surrounded by an impatient and demanding crowd.]

You can say that again.

[But he hopes Xanatos won't. It's loud in the stadium. The spectators are agitated enough that their every moment is echoing around and around in Matt's head. It does him the favor of clearly illuminating his surroundings on his radar, but the downside is it's giving him a splitting headache. Not what he needs to be focused on, should Xanatos or Bradbury decide they actually want to obey their captor's demands.]

There could be a way out of this situation yet. If we work together, we might have a chance.

[ Bradbury's holding a weapon that seems like it belongs more in a medieval movie than a stadium, even one where they're supposedly about to jump into blood sport. He's not sure why he picked the halberd off the rack, but maybe it was because the weapon provided him with a little more distance, as well as a less fatal way of fending off attacks should he have to. Right now, he's holding it diagonally in both hands, across his chest, defensive and wary -- not willing to attack, but uncertain if the others are going to.

He doesn't know either man personally, though they're familiar in the way voices from the network are. He's better at remembering faces, though, and neither of them is familiar to him. The one with the mace is a complete stranger to him, but the other guy's voice sounds more familiar, even he can't place a name to go with it.

Then again, maybe it's better he doesn't know who they are, considering what they're supposed to be here for

His head turns sharply when Matt speaks, and his posture relaxes a fraction. At least someone else here is thinking with their head on straight. He doesn't want to have to kill anyone, still feels like its a sick joke they're here at all, but there's a touch of hope in his voice when he responds, like someone desperately looking for an out he can't find himself. ]

Yeah? Either of you hotshots got a plan? [ He has to speak louder to be heard over the booing crowd. ] 'Cause I'm all for whatever gets all of us out here alive.

[ Compared to the other two, he was probably the most transparent of them, gaze frank and direct. Someone with nothing to conceal, and no reason to. ]

Edited 2012-11-14 06:10 (UTC)

Not at the moment. [Xanatos said, his grip tightening on the mace slightly. The crowd was pounding down in his head, making it slightly hard to think. Although...Xanatos pauses for a moment, putting a hand to his temple. He saw a person in the MAC, brushing their hair, and humming slightly to herself. Mundane and predictable, just like his power worked.]

We still have our powers. [He said, as he moved his hand to his side.] Unfortunately, my power is fairly useless. So, if either of you have any powers that might be helpful, now's the time to use them.

[Ideally Matt would like to keep his powers a secret. Being able to pass for a blind man has been a saving grace for him through the years. That said, his life and the lives of the other two are on the line, and sensing no deception from either of them at the moment, he makes the decision to reveal his hand.]

My senses operate at superhuman levels. [A beat.] Except for my sight.

[Not exactly useful, but if either of them could come up with a way to put his senses to use to liberate them, he's all for it. For the moment, that's all he's willing to reveal, though. Being a ninja is something he'd like to keep for himself for just a bit longer.]

[ Bradbury shakes his head. ]

I can knock people out, or turn off their powers. [ He lets that hang in the air for a moment, uncertainly. It doesn't sound good; if anything, it sounds like powers that would be most advantageous in a fight. The stands are mostly empty of a live audience, but even from here, he can see the cameras. It makes his face twist, and like an angry and caged animal, he snarls in frustration. ]

I hate this shit. What's he trying to prove?

[Xanatos was already planning this out. He knew better than to underestimate anybody here, but he was certain that Matt was the weaker of his two combatants. If he had to, he'd go for Bradbury first. And frankly, he was fine with that. He was nervous as hell about the prospect of killing someone in cold blood, but he would come back. People did that here after they died. It wasn't that bad.

He continued to try to mentally convince himself that murder would be justified if needed, while he looked around the arena. More than ever, he wished he had his suit here.]

I wish I knew. Even after many conversations with him, Habit still remains an enigma to me. [Xanatos's tone of voice plainly said 'he remains an enigma and I really hate it.']

[Matt is listening to the arena now, more or less tuning out his opponents as his radar creates a clearer mental image of their surroundings for him. But he's not just listening for that. He's hoping to find something, any sort of clue that might allow the group to escape from the stadium in one piece.]

I might have something.

[He turns his back to the others, following the echoing sounds toward one of the outfield walls.]

The wall sounds different over here. If there's a way out of this place, it may be through that wall.

[ The idea that Habit's been around long enough for people to have more than one conversation with whatever HABIT its is unsettling to Bradbury, who has no idea who or what the hell he really is. What the blind guy says - shit, they were first out of the gate so fast, he never even got to ask his name - gets his attention, though, and he turns to follow Matt, like it might help him see whatever he's picking up on. He steps forward to rest a hand on the wall, but... ]

Feels pretty solid to me.

[ He leans the halberd agaisnt the wall so he can crouch down, looking for-- he doesn't know what, yet. A hidden door? He can't spot anything, but... ]

We're gonna have to bust through it. [ And the mace Xanatos has, large and heavy, might be their best bet for it. He turns his head, intending to call the guy over to ask him to pass it over. ]

[It wasn't gonna be that easy, Xanatos knew already. Look for a weak spot in the walls? How ridiculous. He didn't know all what HABIT could do, but if it could drug them and bring them here, then it was more powerful than expected. Who knows what it would do if they tried to stop playing by the rules. He saw only one option: play by HABIT's rules and hope that he managed to win. He doubted he could even get close to winning, but he didn't want to die.

So, while Bradbury and Matt were distracted by the wall, Xanatos walked over to Bradbury, as quiet as possible. Without saying a word, he swung his mace at the man-right as Bradbury turned his head, giving Bradbury time to dodge.]

Look out!

[Matt hears himself calling out to Bradbury, reacting to the swing as Xanatos makes it. No matter how soft his footsteps, there's no hiding the telltale rhythm of his heart or the sounds his muscles make as he swings the mace.

He has enough time to move clear and let Bradbury dodge freely if he can, and enough time to charge at Xanatos and grab at the mace to try to wrestle the weapon loose from his grip.]

Drop it, you sonuvabitch!

[ Between Matt's warning and his own timing, Bradbury does see the mace swinging for his head. In the City, he's been trying to get back into older habits, be prepared for anything, and it's that training that kicks in now, letting him jerk his head back and out of the way of the mace's swing. He follows the motion with the rest of his body, rolling himself away and to his feet in a low crouch, grabbing for--

A gun that isn't there, he remembers too late.

Not that it seems to matter, as the blind guy barrels in out of nowhere and jumps Xanatos, making Bradbury's jaw drop in surprise. Not so helpless after all. ]

What the fuck?!

[As Matt charges Xanatos, he holds on tight to the weapon, but eventually it is wrested from his grasp. For a blind guy he was pretty spry. So, here he was, weaponless and effectively helpless. Though, from the roar of the crowd, they at least seemed to appreciate it.]

You heard what our host said. All we have to do is kill everyone else. Whoever brought us here managed to bring us here while we were asleep and managed to forcibly bring us here. Do you think he'd let us escape that easily?

[Xanatos remarked, with a slight, sarcastic laugh. He carefully watched Matt and Bradbury, wanting to see what their next move would be.]

Edited (wow html fail) 2012-11-16 03:35 (UTC)

[Matt keeps his hands on the mace, teeth clenched in anger. Xanatos has a point, it was true, but that didn't justify being so cowardly.]

So your default is to attack him from behind? That's low.

[Still, he's not about to drop the weapon now.]

You've shown your true colors.

[ Bradbury isn't holding his own weapon yet, but he's reaching for it without looking, hands closing blindly around the haft as he brings it forward to point the blade warily at Xanatos. His posture's still on the defensive, not quite on the attack, but as his gaze flickers between Matt and the other man, his expression wavers between pissed off and confused.

Not willing to kill. Not yet.

But the small crowd's cheering at the apparent upset, two armed men facing down one. ]

Doesn't mean we gotta give 'em the bloodbath they want. [ Quiet, and his guard's a little down, distracted, as he tries -- fails -- to come up with an alternative to the ugly choices in front of them. ]

It seemed the easiest. So sue me for wanting to survive.

[Xanatos dryly remarked, frowning at Matt and Bradbury. This was...not the situation that he wanted to be in at all. He was already trying to plan a way out of it, though a part of him (that he would never recognize) was plainly telling him this whole thing was a mistake.]

Do it. I've already attacked you, I'm at your mercy. Besides, [he smirks slightly here] it would make one hell of a show.

[He's been in a position where he could take a man's life before, and even in the position where he wanted to do just that. But his moral code didn't allow him to murder people. It went against everything Matt believed in his very core. But he won't back down now, not with Xanatos's cards shown and his plan out on the table. It's all very plain, all very simple. They have to kill him or let him kill them both.]

If we don't end this now, he'll murder us both in a heartbeat.

[As he says this, another thought plants itself into his head. But for the moment he'll brush that off and focus on the present, mace clenched in his hardened fists.]

Motherfucker. [ He spits the word, harsh and angry, but it's more cursing the situation they're in than Xanatos in particular. Both men are right, and he knows it, but it still grates against every instinct he has. It's not like Xanatos is a child, or any kind of innocent, but cutting a man down when he can't even defend himself? ]

I'm not killing a guy who isn't armed. [ His voice sounds strange and distant to his own ears, muffled by the beat of his own blood. But his hands are already shifting on the halberd, bringing it up so he's ready to bring it up at a moment's notice. ]

Pick another fucking weapon.

[ Stupidity, or nobility, or maybe he just doesn't want to be that kind of guy. The kind of guy that finds killing easy, if it'll mean preserving his own life. ]

[Xanatos rolled his eyes. He idly brushed some dirt off of his jacket, looking at Matt and Bradbury. Despite the fact that his mind was racing at a million miles an hour, his face remained calm and impassive. He needed a plan to get out of this. He somehow needed to get out of this.]

If I'll get another weapon, I'll take yours.

[Before Bradbury had time to react, Xanatos lunged at the halberd, attempting to yank it out of Bradbury's grasp. The crowd roared in approval.]

[This wasn't going to do, not at all. Matt can't just stand there, he has to act fast. When it seems like Bradbury might possibly lose his grip on the halberd, Matt knows exactly what he must do.]

Take the mace! Take it and finish this!

[ The sudden rush forward doesn't catch Bradbury off-guard, but the grab for the halberd does. But even as Matt calls out, a hard wrench of Bradbury's hands tears the polearm out of Xanatos' grip. The blade's momentum forces him to take a step back, but Matt's words register:

Finish this!

Bradbury's grip on the halberd tightens, and he yanks it around sharply, axe-side first. It whistles through the air as he puts all his weight behind it, cleaving downwards with deadly swiftness, aiming at no less than burying itself into the man's head.

It all happens faster than he can think, but as he brings the halberd swinging down, too late to stop, a part of him watches in dull horror. If it hits, this isn't going to be a kill with a gun, clean and impersonal. It's going to be a fucking mess. ]

Edited 2012-11-17 18:58 (UTC)

[Xanatos stumbles backwards slightly, as Bradbury yanks the halberd out of his grip. He looks over at Matt, distracted by his words for just one moment, just long enough for Bradbury to swing the halberd through the air, landing straight in his head.

Xanatos manages to open his mouth, as if he's about to say something, his eyes widening in horror, but the blade connects with the brain and that is that. Blood and brain matter fly from his head, due to the force of the hit. He falls to the floor, dead, still bleeding and oozing, eyes and mouth still in their pre-death places of terror.

The crowd goes wild.]

[The sound is horrific, and if that weren't enough to make Matt's stomach turn, the blood and brain matter that explode from Xanatos's head make contact with his face, leaving a terrible, warm feeling of wetness on his forehead and cheeks. His breath is held, blind eyes wide in anguish as he hears the very last beat of the man's heart.

And that's it. Xanatos is dead, and Matt and Bradbury are left before the roaring crowd.]

Jesus Christ, have mercy on us both.

[He feels like he's going to be sick. It's not because he can't take murder or hearing a man die. It's not because he can't stand the way blood feels on his skin. It's because suddenly he's realized there is absolutely no way out and no going back. And his face absolutely reflects that.]

[ Though he manages, somehow, to shut his eyes at the moment of impact, nothing can prevent Bradbury from hearing the wet, sickening crack, or feeling blood and brain hit his skin. As close as he is, a good deal of it goes over his chest and clothes as well, and he staggers back, halberd dropping from nerveless fingers. With the force its buried itself into Xanatos' head, it's going to take effort to pull it back out, and right now he can't summon the strength for it.

But he forces himself, chest heaving with effort of not gagging, to look at what exactly he's done, the lifeless body collapsed on the grass. He did that, and while it's not the first body he's seen, or the most grotesque, everything about the situation makes him feel disgusted. He wants to apologize, scream at the crowd, a hundred things all at once - none of them will change what's happened. You'll burn in hell, he remembers telling someone else, what feels like a lifetime ago. He almost wants to tell Matt not to bother; mercy isn't getting him out of this one.

It was self-defense, but even to himself, the words ring hollow. He lifts his head with an effort, glad Matt can't see him right now, and his voice is dull but tightly-controlled when he speaks. ]

So what now?

Edited 2012-11-18 07:22 (UTC)

[What could they do? Where could they go from here that didn't end in tragedy for one or both of them? It was all a trap, all a cruel, bloody game, and there wasn't going to be some magical way out of it. This nightmare was as real as a nightmare could be, and unless one of them made a move, the two of them were going to fight to the death while the heathen spectators screamed for more.

The solution comes to him then, dawns on him in a way that makes him almost believe it had been planted in his head for forever. Slowly, he takes a breath. It's ragged, hard, through his mouth so he doesn't have to inhale the heavy metallic scent of Xanatos's blood.]

You have to get out of here. You have to survive and you have to find whoever it is that's behind this insanity.

[And with that, he tosses his weapon aside.]

[ The mace hits the ground roughly at the same time Bradbury's heart does, or that's what it feels like, anyway. He doesn't like this fucking situation, but at the same time, what Matt's saying makes a horrible kind of sense.

Or maybe that's just his own selfish survival instinct talking, jumping at the chance to walk out of here alive. ]

I will. [ His voice is low, and it sounds like as much of a promise as he can make it. Slowly, Bradbury takes one step towards Matt, then another, reaching a hand out - like he's offering it to shake. ]

I can knock you out, before I - [ He swallows, hard. ] --so you don't feel it.

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