All of the guests are herded into the Meowselsworth Stadium for the time being, and there are many little kiosks and activity centers set up. There is also plenty of menacing looking machinery. There are many people in the crowd who are watching the present competition live, on the edge of their seats. The eyes of millions are upon you all. A pillar raises from underground, on the top of it is Mittens von Meowselsworth behind unbreakable glass.
"Ladies and gentlemen and all other gender categories not included therein, this is the time you have been waiting for! IT IS TIME FOR MEOWSELSWORTH'S PRISONER DEATHMATCH EXTRAVAGANZA!" calls the Helmet Cat high up in the booth overlooking the arena. "Remember, anything goes in the Deathmatch, and most of all, entertain the viewers during this horrible blood and-slash-or gearbath!" Mittens leans into the microphone. "Welcome to our guests! In Alphabetical order:"
Aaron Lockley
Alexander Maxerson
Alina Malain
Brynjard 'Ihsahn' Silenoz
Cardon Mars the Four
Charlene F. Oftenseen
Duke Leto Atredies
Eldon Gorski
Finwa
Hamish Cunningham
James Herecea
Leoian Mousekewitz
Mattie
Ms. Kevorkia
Murder Monk
Prof. Tinkerton
The Hollow
Velval/Stephano
Wowbagger tIP
"Wowee, that is quite an impressive lineup of contestants that we have here! Among these contestants, we have the following composition!"
2 scanbots
1 sneakbot
2 deathbots
1 itchy trigger finger
2 snitches
3 heisters
1 cat burglar
1 hired muscle
6 criminals
"For our first round, this is a bit of a warm-up, a half practice round where nobody dies!"
There is a collective groan of disapproval from the audience.
"But there will still be fighting, you better bet your pants on it, cause everyone loves free pants from Hiney Jeans! First round Team Leader Competition: Petty Popularity Contest. Who can become the most popular the fastest? Let's find out!"
Velval is about, carrying the staff with none other than Stephano. Released among the first initial criminals, no one would expect a vote from the crazy-butt plague doctor.
That's why everyone is wrong.
"The tables have turned. The magic commands it!" says Velval in a shrill and excited voice. "Hahaha! Kitty-kitty-purr-purr! The vote has already been decided! We can see it! We can see the magic! It calls to me!"
There's a pause, as the plague doctor's beak is turned towards Stephano. Silence falls.
"..No.. Stephano. No.. I will not vote for you.. I don't care. No. No, shut up. Shut up. Shut up. No, you. No, shut up. Shut up. Fine."
"The Hollow will be the leader! It will be the hollow! It comes to us, it sees! Hehehahahaha!!"
"Stephano also votes for Stephano."
The puppet watches. It watches ever so silently. Watching.
The beaked face then looks skyward towards Meowselsworth, "Stephano demands that KITTY-KITTY-PURR-PURR be the victim! The target of misfortune, and you will bow to us! You will bow! Hahaha! The spells know! The tables will turn!"
Meowselsworth as team loser. (Null vote?)
Bryn strides purposefully into the arena, his long dark grey duster billowing behind him. Despite the swirling winds from the large arena, the heavy material flows artistically. He looks to the huge crowd with their pathetic lives, a baying group without a mind between them. As opposed to the newcomer Velval who seems to have two minds!
"So, I suppose this is one way to recognise my art, my brilliance and perform before the crowd of mewling monkeys." his voice rich with a hint of a growl.
Standing at well over seven feet tall, the bearded barbarian strides onto the stadium, yelling out to the crowd as he does so. He flexes his biceps and practices his battle cry, making certain that every camera catches a glimpse. Pounding his fists together, he looks to the other prisoners with wild eyes, before shouting at them.
"First order of business, meatbags! I'm leader, you got it?!"
"Now that that's out of the way, as team leader, I order all the killbots to get over here so I can smash them to pieces! HUAGHHH!"
With that, he proceeds to flex his muscles repeatedly, growling impatiently. It becomes apparent that his words were sincere.
"Ohh, splendid, it's time for Pruning!"
Walking across the arena he looks to Alexander; "I suppose that's one way to declare it. You are bold, no cowering and snivelling." Brynjård looks around at the other convicts; "Though I know none of us are like that. Our crimes might be matters of public record, but this is a time for action, to air our grievances."
With a strong cautious nod to the large Alexander, "I am Brynjård Silenøz, you can call me Bryn."
Velval sweeps forward, half circling around the newly released criminals. The staff is used to assist Velval in his fevered trundling. "It is Velval and Stephano. The magic is ours, and we see ourselves in their faces! The reflection of the dark magics!"
The high-pitched plague-doctor sorcerer cackles with glee, "The robots know no pain! Darkness be their souls! We will show them! We will show them pain! Hahahaha!"
"♫ Darkness be their Souls. ♫" Bryn sings in a rough voice, a deep hoary growl.
"Oh, you have heard my music? Glad that I am so famous, Velval and Stephano." He nods to the pair. "So you are here to murder us? if so this should be an interesting event. Of course the truth ill out and be broadcast to the world."
The dark cloak drifts into the arena, and despite the abundant illumination, no light penetrates the unfathomable black within.
The thing known only as The Hollow announces itself with its resonant, unearthly voice,
"Intriguing..." Bryn looks to the otherworldly creature, blackest night being a extravagant illuminant next to him. "So, this is your leader Velval. Of course you Steffano, think that it should be you!"
'Now that is black metal.' he thinks whilst looking at the Hollow obviously impressed by the iconography of the being.
She moves calmly into the fold of larger beings without hesitation or worry, softly moving up to beside the behemoth who had been yelling for his own self to become the leader. Finwa's ears twitch in amusement as she watches the others then turns to the crowd without so much as a twitch of interest on her face.
"Team leader? I give you that brains would work for this venture; however, there is also much to be said for brawn and music. My expertise does not stand with leadership and I am much too intelligent to try something that would have me killed within the first few moments of this match." Finwa looked about at the others as she strode to the side, "Please inform me why I should vote for you?"
He approaches her, a gracefully sway to his walk confident and composed before looking at her...assessing her. His rich voice rolls "You speak the truth, to be elected early on is to put yourself on a podium a target for those to aim at. Being the leader is too hazardous, for one of you intellect." He quirks his lips into a wry smile; "Hiding in the background is better, like the killer robots will do. However I am not known for shying away from taboo topics. Vote for me and I will assess the truths and reveal...."
His eyes sparkle, with words unsaid.
The producers have seen fit to provide former-Captain Lockley with an immaculately pressed military uniform, conspicuously devoid of rank or unit markings. He looks up from where he'd been glowering in the corner and barks out, "Bah! Listen to you all! Ridiculous! I only agreed to be a part of this absurd production so I could have one last chance to tell everybody the truth- and I took care of that in the interview. From here on out any screen time I get is just icing on the cake. My vote is for the puppet. If we're going to be part of a farce, we might as well play it for a laugh or two."
"People, people. This isn't difficult. What we need as Team Leader is somebody with experience in organization and management, particularly in the management of people whom some in society might classify as sociopathic, or even psychopathic. If my work with DeathWatch doesn't qualify me for that position, nothing does!"
Charlene smooths out a tiny wrinkle on her tailored pinstriped suit and settles the shoulders a bit more comfortably. "In addition, I would like to mention that should I survive, I guarantee all other freed survivors who vote for me for Team Lead a pass to a DeathWatch concert for each vote. For those whom society wisely chooses to retain in incarceration, however luxurious, I will arrange a similar number concerts at the prison, for which you will be the sole attendees. As you know, DeathWatch is the most popular, if also the most dangerous, band in the world. Your passes may be used or sold to the highest bidder. This is quite a perk for those with good business sense. Which I'm certain you all have."
"Also, for the first person to vote for me for Team Leader, I will vote for them next round and offer the same deal for them as for myself, provided people continue to vote for me on alternating rounds."
Lots of familiar sounding talk he mostly zoned out on.
Eldon moves up to Charlene as she finishes speaking. "You sound like my last boss, and she paid me good. Even gave me vacation days. Looks like you're the boss now, boss."
"Duly noted, Mr. Gorski, and I shall vote for your leadership next round." She sizes up the burly man. "Do you know if you will be released or... er... sent to 'The Resort' after this is over? If you are to be freed, I'm certain the band will need a new chef. And they do love ice cream."
"Well, um, I'm not real certain to be honest. My lawyer just kinda had me sign some papers. Not real sure what he was talking about. He said I was in trouble, killed a hero or somethin'. I never heard of the guy. But he said I had to take what was coming for me, and I always pay my debts. Sometimes they're late, but I always pay 'em. I guess I wouldn't mind going to a resort. I see 'em on the tv. You want me to cook? For a band? Well I can serve a mean ice cream sandwich."
"I understand ice cream is an excellent remedy for alcohol poisioning. You will do nicely, Mr. Gorski. I look forward to a long and profitable relationship."
Alexander finally notices that he is no longer the center of attention. None of the hundreds of cameras even seem to point in his direction. For that matter, no robots have approached him for voluntary dismemberment. He grunts in disapproval, wondering what could possibly be more worthy of attention than him.
"DeathWatch?" he growls, vaguely remembering the name, "Wait a minute... I know those guys! Caused some big ruckus on the Arctic Circle last year, threw off my hunting trail by a week or so. Because of them, I had to put the Giant Tusked Polar Bear last on my to-do list!" Alexander grits his teeth, having seemingly decided that he dislikes this woman. He had so wanted to save the Fire-Breathing Sea Lion for last!
"Two with concise rewards and beliefs, Stephano and one with might of brawn. At this point I am torn between Ms. Oftenseen and Mr. Silenoz."
The small woman, creature, humanoid steps back a couple of feet to look at them all, "There are more here to speak up though. Are there no others contesting for this position? Come now. Mr. Meowselsworth has gone to all this trouble yet there are few to contend for the top at this time? Or is this a wait and see game for some?"
Finwa had an idea of whom she would vote for but wanted to be reassured that she was choosing the right person. This was something that could determine the length of her stay there and the comfort level as well. The little one was smart and she was also looking for a timid sense of ease and luxury to her own thoughts.
Bryn looks to the smaller female form of Finwa; "I thank you, for your consideration" he says with a deep throaty roll of his voice.
Sauntering over to the manager and removing his dark gloves and Bryn looks to her with a respectful nod; "DeathWatch are reasonable, but they are not a patch on our cover of 'I am the Black Wizards'. I might consider it if I was to open for them. They would be very lucky to have me."
He looks the creature, Mittens Meowselsworth inside it's protected booth; a puppet for the powers that be. A pawn as much as Stephano, was for Velval.
Charlene scrutinizes Bryn seriously. "Do you by chance cook? None of the boys do, but I had this idea for a new cooking show that might catch on. I could set you up with the right people, produce it myself. Just a thought. Have your people call my people after this is over."
Bryn squints; "I am a singer. You think me like Euronymous?" he shakes his head ruefully. "Though your ideas sounds interesting even in jest, to show a different side to myself and the cause. I do have a sense of humour, even if my sense of righteousness is greater." He flicks his long hair, a silken cascade of night.
"I never joke about money," Charlene says flatly, adjusting her glasses.
Finwa smirks as she hears Charlene's concept and Bryn's answer, "You could always do a mix of the two. Music and cooking put together to make a fine build of the two. I am sure that ones with such great abilities as the two of you could come up with some mixes that cook up music to the audience's ears."
She licks her lips thinking of the mixes and how others would consider this to be stupidity. Not she. This was intelligence dealing with money, promotion and talent. She honoured the ingenuity of such people. Even if something did not work out they learned from the experiment and tried again, just like any scientist would.
Leoian comes over to join the others in the arena.
"Hi everyone, I tell you this is some crazy vacation I sure am glad The Mitts invited me. Did you all get invited too?. I'm kinda nervous though... I didn't know there was going to be an audience... Someone told me we're going to play a sort of who dunnit. I hope I haven't missed anything important. Geez are we voting for leaders already?"
Looking towards the groups that seem to be forming, and the candidates for team leader Leoian doesn't seem to be able to make a decision. He turns his attention to Charlene "You do have undeniable management skills, but I'm sorry... I just can't bring myself to easily trust someone who first 'campaign' strategy is bribery."
He moves over to Alexander "You Huaghh my very large friend, do you mind if I call you Huaghh? You seem like a man who knows his limitations, and much more importantly his strengths. I don't think the robots will willingly present themselves for smashing though. So the game plan could use some work, but my mom always said Leo in a life and death situation it's always a good idea to have a big man you can stand behind. You my friend, are a very big man; gotta follow momma's advice"
"Speaking of life and death..."He looks around, and then spots the pillar topped with a helmet cat behind unbreakable glass "Oh good Meowsie!" He waves to the small host "You said nobody dies this round, you mean people really die in this game right? Well high stakes high reward I guess"
"Ms. Meowselsworth, actually," corrects Mittens from on high, peering down at the contestants, Finwa in particular, "Doesn't much matter what you call me, though, I suppose! I can never tell between male and female humanoids myself! It's socially inconsequential, isn't it?"
She then peers towards Leoian, "Meowsie sounds too cutesy. My name is Mittens! And didn't you read the waiver?"
"The automatons! The robots will run for their metal souls! Or they will bow to me!" squeals Velvar in delight. The staff is planted firmly in the ground, "Yes, Stephano! Yes! Yessss! It's just a short ways, then they will all bow to me!"
Velvar paces around the group, "They will all bow to us! We will devour their sooooouuuuuls! Then the dark magic will conquer all."
Stephano watches the group silently. So silently.
Eldon leans in close to Charlene to whisper to her, though he isn't exactly quiet when he speaks. "Uh, this isn't bribery, right? It's like a paycheck, yea? I mean, I joked with other drivers it's liked bosses bribe us, but it's not the same thing, is it?"
"Of course it's not bribery, Mr. Gorski," Charlene replies crisply and unapologetically, "It's economics, supply and demand. It's the very foundation of our country and society. Some people simply don't have a firm grasp of business."
Eldon nods and thinks a moment on what Charlene said, arms folded across his chest. Apparently having decided something, a smirk forms on his face and he fixes a stare on Leoian, though he says nothing at first.
Mattie doesn't cut an opposing figure in the arena, but she seems to think she owns it all the same. The teenage girl folds her arms across her chest, tapping her fingers on one elbow impatiently. Finally, she raises her finger and aims it around seemingly randomly.
"Feh. Stupid. You're all stupid," she adjusts her glasses, and then her trademark goggles, "Except him. HE can be leader!" she finally settles on The Hollow, finally dropping her finger, quirking an eye at him curiously.
"Done." She decides, nodding to herself and glancing upwards at Meowselsworth, eyeing her thoughtfully for a moment. She then busies herself by pulling something that looks akin to a pen out of her lab coat's pocket, fiddling with it.
Bryn shakes his head in a self-deprecating manner; "And here I thought you, Ms Oftenseen were part of an establishment mockery. Ridiculing those that are different whilst trying to pretend that they are sympathising. All the while altering the culture and philosophy of it's founders."
He looks towards the other newcomers, a sparkle in his eye before turning back to Charlene. "However, I would be glad to get my word out. To cook for those few, the many that might listen, those who are not mindless drones that society creates." He holds out his hand at an acute angle for the CFO to grasp.
Bryn smiles at Finwa's response; 'So, another enlightened individual! Even though money doesn't appeal the exposure does.' "I thank you for your kind advice; you seem like an erudite individual. I am Bryn."
When Mattie makes the suggestion of Hollow as leader, the cloaked figure turns to her and speaks,
Flouncing into the midst of the group, Ms. Kevorkia beams her bright smile and interjects her opinion.
"This will never do for selecting a team leader, we can't trust manager types, they are much too robotic already, it would be easy for a robot to adopt that role. A true 'manager' leads by example and the leadership we need is someone that can expose the robots. I offer a solution, the first person to do so I must note, and it is a simple matter really. I'll prune a limb from each of us and the ones with wires, mechanics, and circuits exposed are the robots. See, it's easy! Now line up, people, line up, and choose which limb you would like pruned. Does anyone have a set of large pruning shears?"
Ms. Kevorkia looks around expectantly, waiting for the queue to form.
"Hold on... so you're saying that we should find out who the robots are by having our arms cut off? Lady... you are a genius!" Alexander says enthusiastically, his voice devoid of sarcasm.
"There was a waiver?" He turns his head up and to the left slightly as if trying to remember "Nope... I don't think I had that with my invitation. And sorry I forgot I'm not supposed to use cutesy names in public, so no Meowsie, no Mittykins, or Mitten Kitten... how about The Mittenator?"
Out of the corner of his eye Leoian spots Eldon's stare, he couldn't hear the softly exchanged words between the two, but there are only so many reasons that Eldon would be staring, and Leoian suspects it's not because the big man finds him pretty. He turns and waves towards the Eldon "Please do not misunderstand my friend, I do not mean to say you or Ms. Oftenseen are wrong; a calculating businesswoman such as her would make an exemplary team leader. I've been burned in the past by the promise of future gifts, and the stakes are simply too high for me to put myself in that position off the get go."
Leoian gestures towards Meowselsworth's pillar "Really the only person I know I can trust is Meows... err Mittens, and I don't think The Mitts is participating so I can't really vote for her."
He looks towards Ms. Kevorkia as she suggests cutting off limbs, and then to Alexander when he agrees "Indeed that is an interesting proposal Ms. however is it really necessary to take an entire limb? Wouldn't a single digit suffice?"
Considering the situation it's rather unlikely that they will be given any such sharp objects, but it doesn't hurt to ask. He waves towards the pillar "Hey Mittens, could we possibly bother you for some pruning shears? Or some such appendage cutting object?"
Bryn shakes his head darkly despairing at the way the conversation has turned to blood so quickly. "That is an idea, however these robots might be cybernetic. And some of our more intellectual 'performers' might have there own technological enhancements!"
Whilst he wiggles his finger; "I need all my digits, limbs and other appendages."
Leoian looks towards Byrn listening to his criticisms regarding Ms. Kevorkia's suggestion. "Yes, as you say the robots /might/ be cybernetic, and some here /might/ have enhancements, but those seem like big ifs. Surely you can survive without a single toe, considering the alternative could be that you're murdered by some killer robot. Even if you're enhanced you must have some part of you still human that we can check. Maybe this doesn't work, and everyone loses a little piece of themselves, but maybe it does and we pick out the robots right away. If by sacrificing some small appendage I can assure everyone not out to kill us can walk out of here I think it's a small price to pay. I have nothing to hide."
"I assure you, my lawyers reviewed the contract thoroughly and there was no waiver for ad hoc dismemberment by fellow contestants. Such an action is unacceptable," Charlene says calmly, shaking hands briskly with Bryn.
"Er, I think I am going to have to step in here, ladies and gentlemen and everything outside of the previous two categories, to say that contestant dismemberment is expressedly disallowed outside of the Contestant Dismemberment Zones, which are reserved for your Team Losers," says Mittens from on high in a booming announcement voice before she talks more quietly to Leoian, "The Mittenator is fine. Tolerable. I guess."
"Bah, definitions, that's what got me into this mess! Pruning, I said, but no, murder they called it, society gardner I said, psychopath they called me. Now a simple program of selective pruning and dismemberment you label it." A frown stretches the pretty face of Ms. Kevorkia, "I'm just trying to help, why am I so misunderstood?"
Bryn looks to the 'gardener', "I understand, but who's to say how a beings shape should be. The bonsai or pure-bred animal who is so falsely crafted by the external forces; as we are by the 'authorities, that they lose all function and natural entropic abilities."
"That is what they have done to you by placing you in here away from your experiments, surely you would not wish to do that to another. Freedom - in belief, body and emotions are what we should be able to choose and strive for." his words are earnest.
He looks around, the group realising that the upcoming vote is closing in. "I will cast my vote, there are many interesting candidates that have spoken. I will cast my vote for Aaron Lockley. He wishes the truth to be known, I believe that it should be heard and like my own truth this would be a good time for him to tell it."
Setting his jaw he continues; "However of course, I would like people to vote for me. Although I cannot provide results, I will deliver you from this evil night." He then creases up laughing....Tears welling in his eyes.
"I sound like a politician, promising hollow victory and rewards. That is not me! I will be honest. Do what I can to be at least be vocal and interesting...." he slowly stands up again.
"As in society, vocal people get shunned and killed. Whilst killers hide in the shadows, staying silent. Vote for me and I'll stay vocal." He concludes in his rich baritone.
"We have not much time left, if you wish to show Democracy works them vote. Vote before it's too late." Bryn shakes his head; "I know it's a pain, but in this failed society of ours it may be the easiest way to show your Voice."
He pleads as time drifts away as it is wont to do, the slow death of the universe and the fast death of humanity.
"Since I cannot support my own candidacy, I will support Mr. Gorski, and urge everyone else to support him. His passion for his vocation speaks well for his character, as does his bravery in aiding heroics at risk to his own life. I support him for Team Leader this round."
"What the hell do you mean I can't vote for myself!?" Alexander shouts at the cat, not at all pleased by the development, "And we can't even dismember each other? That defeats the whole point of the competition!" Of course, it does not occur to him that he does not even know what the purpose of it is, let alone what would defeat it.
With a groan of reluctance, Alexander looks to the others, his expression changing between winces and scowls as he sizes each of them up, before he finally settles on one of them. "I'll vote for you," he says, pointing at the pruning lady, "At least you have a lick of sense; even the cat knows it! Why else wouldn't it let us go along with your plan?"
"Alright since I want my vote to possibly count in this corrupt electoral system. I'll second a candidate. The Ice Cream made knows what the icy chill of life is like." Bryn adds.
"Let me just announce the votes, and the results for this first round as we find out our TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM LEADER!"
Eldon Gorski: 2 votes (Charlene F. Oftenseen, Brynjård Silenøz)
Ms. Kevorkia: 1 vote (Alexander Maxerson)
Charlene F. Oftenseen: 1 vote (Eldon Gorski)
Alexander Maxerson: 1 vote (Leoian Mousekewitz)
The Hollow: 2 votes (Mattie, Velval)
"Wowee, it looks like in our first round we have The Hollow and Eldon Gorski in a dead heat, taking in the most votes at exactly two! We now descend into leaderless chaos and anarchy as the first true round begins! With our popularity contest completed, which we should have known these antisocial criminals would have been unable to properly enact, we get to the round that you've all been waiting for! Oh yes, it is time for the first challenge, the MUSIC COMPETITION! And some of you may be thinking, 'Well, that doesn't sound that cool, and we have one Brynjård Silenøz here who can blow these chumps outta the water!' Well, this is not just a singing competition! Feel free to sabotage your opponents, because this competition has no rules. The Team Leader is the one who puts on the best musical show! The Team Loser is the one who makes us want to tear our ears out. Round zero is over, now get ready for ROUND ONE OF MEOWSELSWORTH'S PRISONER DEATHMATCH EXTRAVAGANZA! This time, there WILL BE BLOOD!"
Mittens dances about on her stage as she speaks, doing what can only be described as an adorable helmet cat dance. "Since you couldn't choose one, this round's team leader is: Mittens von Meowselsworth, and since I'm not a competitor, that means everyone is vulnerable to robot attacks! What fun!"