Prologue I

"Do you even know how to operate this junk?"

The tall, blonde, frowny-faced assistant gripped tightly onto the metallic grab handles over her head, attempting to regain her balance from the swerving cockpit. Her high-heels still wobbly from the constant, unpredictable shifts the blimp endured as it traversed through a growing rainstorm high up in the clouds. Briefly glancing at the windshield ahead revealed thick, gray clouds. Dark and puffy. Not to mention the growing winds further obscuring the view.

"Quit your yappin', Hailee!" A familiar, gruff voice fired back, continuing to operate the button-heavy machinery without a single drop of sweat. Disorganized assortment of wires loosely dangled underneath the dashboard, posing an obvious safety hazard, but the pilot was not fazed by its tangled appearance. Not one bit. Further resting his back onto the pilot seat, he slammed both boots onto the steering wheel. Legs crossed, palms behind his head like a reckless driver. "I've flown a plane before. Haven't you seen World Tour?"

She rolled her eyes. "My apologies that my incredibly-busy schedule kept me locked away from such trivial matters," after her blunt scoff, she readjusted her leg, her left heel almost falling off her foot after the blimp's sudden, yet intentional bumbling swerve. "Ha-ha. Very funny, Chef Hatchet." she crossed her arms sternly, knowing full-well the chef-turned-pilot and his mischievous chuckle.

"Not my problem you brought heels to a cheap blimp," the chef giggled. "I would know; Chris used to make me wear 'em durin' the most random times—"

"Yeah, go figure." Hailee sneered. "How's it feel being McLean's number 1 lapdog? Must be real nice," she jabbed, cockily smirking as she leaned one shoulder against the door frame.

"Don't push it." Chef fired back, maintaining his stern concentration straight ahead, avoiding distractions from her briefly joking demeanor, among other things…

She was dressed rather casually than her usual wardrobe. Hard to ignore her natural, blonde beauty. Even Chef could not help but sometimes gawk at her runway-model physique. A strong sense of power and authority oozed from her tall presence, impressive given she was in her early 20's. Accompanied by a white top, plus blue denim short-shorts, open-toe heels, and a blue-purple-pink lei around her neck. A colorful touch to her summer-beach-like clothing choice. Similar color scheme from her time co-hosting the Bakuhatsu season, but with some obvious variations of clothing.

Chef, however, maintained the exact same outfit from his previous times co-running the show alongside Chris McLean. No change whatsoever. Same hat. Same rugged clothes. And the same rough boots. Although, a sense of familiarity still persisted throughout his overarching, long-running screen-time, not letting each new season's radical dangers and chaos change the man he was ever since his Season 1 debut.

The grouchy chef briefly glanced back at the arrogant snarker. "This whole… talk, is reminding me of World Tour all over again, with that—"

"Oh-don't you dare compare me to Blaineley." Hailee scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We are nothing alike. Might as well compare me to cast member Kiara because we share similar hair colors, why don't you?"

"Oh-but you do look like Kiara," Chef sneered.

"Go choke on a hotdog," she remained unamused by Chef's cheap jabs, still holding her arms crossed tightly while eyeing down her current superior. "Beats being a lapdog with zero shame and lack of motivation to traverse up the ladder."

"Speakin' of zero shame…" Chef pulled out a stack-pile of papers, waving them behind his head like a dog owner dangling treats. "As my new assistant, you have paper-shufflin' duties! I've had enough of your snappy yappin'. Clock's tickin' 'til showdown, so get to it! Chop-chop, sucka!"

"How... wonderful." Hailee pouted, displeased; regardless, she shoved away her ego and snatched the stack of papers out of Chef's hands, ready to embark through assistant duties and countless ass-kissing to preserve her important status. "You want me to spend more time with those Bakuhatsu Pahkitew nutjobs in the back, don't ya? Oh, and the two 'fan-favorite D's'. Sure, how can I forget? Anyways, how 'bout you make yourself useful for once and cook me a properly-seasoned steak once we land. Medium-rare."

"Do I look like a chef to you?" He mocked, despite the obvious irony he unintentionally displayed.

"A lady's got to eat," she teased, smirking over his oblivious frustration. "An assistant can't work effectively and efficiently without the utmost haute cuisine that only you are capable of providing."

"Alright-alright, you'll get your haute cuisine," he answered hesitantly, not wanting to push through extra effort given his rather low-pay; although, he could not help but enjoy her flattering compliments. "Just… hurry it up and get to organizin' the sheets of paper!"

"I always preferred your cut-to-the-chase motto over Mr. McLean's… unprincipled lack of poise." Hailee remarked rather seductively before walking away from the fully concentrated Pilot Chef, with each footstep clanking the metal floor with her executive-like heels.

As Hailee made her way from the cockpit area to the cargo room to wherever her destination would be; in the process, four young people in said cargo room could hear the sounds of her heels clanking on the metal floor as footsteps. Given her facial expression, one can assume she was in no mood to spare a glance at the youngsters, let alone strike up a quick conversation with any of them. She had important matters to attend to.

By the time she crossed halfway, she decided to double check the stack of papers in her hands. As a co-host and main host, should the actual main host suffer any injuries or illness, keeping the files organized and - all of her current thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a huge explosion, almost resemblant to one of a cannonball. Considering how loud it sounded, she could presume it came from close-by.

"W-What the hell?!" Hailee almost dropped the stack of papers and frantically moved her head in almost every direction. She glanced around to see if a hole, dent, or any damage had been left on the blimp. Of course, she sported a slight, terrified expression. "Why the hell do I have to go through this hellhole -" Her attempt to complain in a scared yet angry tone of voice was interrupted by the sound of another person's voice.

"Arrrgh!" The voice of one very familiar 'pirate' by the name of Arnold could be heard behind her, and knowing her personal experience, she knew all too well about how annoying he can get. Hailee's feeling of fear subsided as she turned to look at him in annoyance. "Yer' cannonball be like the real thing, matey! Me' crew could use a member like yourself! Arrrgh!" He never let up on the gimmick, keeping it going into this new season.

Sitting across from him was the actual culprit of the 'cannonball' sound, also the person Arnold was currently conversing with. This man went by the name of Beardo; not much had changed with regards to his appearance. He still had that slightly messy afro, wore a different pair of dark blue jeans, some worn-out sneakers, and a grey vest over a black t-shirt. In response to Arnold's compliment, he gave a thumbs-up while mimicking a sound resemblant to the victory sound after one completed a quest in an RPG game.

But Hailee, now turning her focus towards Beardo, scowled at the human soundboard for obvious reasons. "Do you mind cutting that crap?" She snarked at him, her current tone of voice as intimidating as her current, displeased expression. Then she looked over to Arnold while continuing to complain. "I don't need to be disrespected by a bunch of childish passengers, especially not now at the start."

Speaking of Arnold, his getup seemed to be exactly the same as last season's. He settled on wearing a dark brown pirate jacket, brown pants, dirty black boots, his signature black eyepatch, and of course, his signature pirate hat that sat pretty on top of his blond hair. On his brown belt appeared to be a pirate sword; it seemed to be sharper than last time, despite it being a prop, according to some internet sources.

"The Captain does not appreciate being called a child!" He continued using his pirate voice, attempting to retort against the blonde authority figure. "Arrrgh! Me' sword and crew will conquer yer', and yer'll have to walk the plank!" To prove his point, he pulled out his sword and waved it in front of her. Though considering Hailee's knowledge of him, his attempt became futile, and she could only deadpan instead.

Then she scoffed, followed by turning around on her heels. "I'm very terrified." Her remark dripped with sarcasm, also maintaining the uncaring tone. She knew she would lose brain cells and grow white hair if she kept talking to them, especially Arnold. So she did a smart thing and began walking away towards her original, allocated destination, but not without leaving one last comment. "But whatever. At least I'll have the privilege to -"

"No one cares." This time a female voice interrupted, and judging by her tone of voice, it was apparent she had enough of her rude behavior. She didn't want to hear Hailee's voice for another second longer. "Your utter presence makes me wanna throw up." Now the attention fell upon Kiara, who appeared to be filing her luscious white nails at the moment, whilst sitting on the cleanest spot on the bench on her side - also maintaining a decent distance from the men. "I'm already wasting my time arguing with someone who can't dress to save their own life. You should take some advice from me about fashion and actual beauty -"

By the time she looked up while continuing to argue, Hailee had long left the group; in fact, she seemed to have reached the door that would probably take her to the next cargo room. But if one listened very closely, something along the lines of "hideous brat" or "snobby bitch" could be heard. Nonetheless, Kiara rolled her eyes and resumed her nail filing. All the while, the chatter in the current cargo room ceased; some of the tension could still be sensed in the atmosphere.

It's no secret, nor would Kiara keep it subtle that her appearance should match her lifestyle: elegant and rich. She chose to upgrade from last season; a white fur coat over a designer's blouse, the most expensive pair of jeans a rich woman can afford, absolutely clean white sneakers, and most notable of all, her signature tiara that shined on her platinum blonde hair. Compared to Arnold's and Beardo's clothing, she won in a landslide for best attire.

Once she heard the door slam, that became Kiara's cue to let out a faint sigh of relief. "Finally! That woman was getting on my last nerves." She ranted more about Hailee. "I would like, do a much better job hosting than her." Then she gazed at Arnold and Beardo. "If you two were working for me, I'd fire both of you right away, just for the outfits alone."

Arnold was quick to defend himself, before Beardo could speak up, or more likely, mimic a sound. "Arrrgh! So the rumors are true, lady! You haven't changed a bit! I sense foulness in yer' heart!" Sensing another potential argument, the human soundboard decided to join in on the fun. The sound of a ring bell to kick off a boxing match escaped from his lips; it seemed harmless and a good way to keep the argument from potentially getting too ruthless, in his mind.

Now it became Kiara's turn to deadpan at the fake pirate, unimpressed. "Of course you're still the same, annoying pirate from last season." She stored her nail file into her coat pocket. "At least I didn't have to deal with you; that's like one of the few good things from living in that dump." Even if she lived in a decent treehouse, that still wasn't good enough for her. Then she stood up from the bench that had been seating both her and Beardo. "Ugh. I don't know why I'm even talking to you. My friends wouldn't catch me dead, hanging with either of you."

"Even the most scoundrel of maidens can have a change of heart!" Arnold, despite frowning alongside Beardo from the unnecessary insults, tried to, at the very least, have a pleasant chat with the rich princess. "Arrrgh! Captain Arnold believes there is a heart of gold, buried underneath all of that foulness! Give me newest crewmate and I a chance, and yer'll be welcomed with open arms and oranges!" He looked to Beardo for support, in which the human soundboard gave a thumbs-up, followed by a 'ding' sound.

Kiara blinked. Then she blinked again. This pirate lingo made almost no sense to her. "Umm, if that's your weird way of asking me out, then zero chance." It seemed like she had misinterpreted the fake pirate's message. But then again, most people couldn't blame her. "I wouldn't even, like, give you a chance to be friends; the thought of that makes me gag." Beardo in response mimicked a sound resemblant to the 'wah wah wah' sad trombone sound effect. Arnold felt ready to throw in the towel for now.

But then Kiara shifted her focus towards Beardo, now shooting him a disapproving look. Those sound effects were starting to get on her nerves. "Stop. It's bad enough your outfit would make you a laughing stock in my area, but that's getting on my nerves too. And like, I don't like people getting on my nerves." Arnold had been correct in his prediction; Kiara hadn't changed one bit from last season.

In response, Beardo gave a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of his head, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. "S-Sorry." Those were his first words since boarding the blimp, but how it came out was more along the lines of meekness.

The snobbish princess raised an eyebrow at Beardo's meekness but didn't comment any further on his potential shyness. "Do me a favor and stick to talking to me in words from now on." Despite having an immense disliking for Hailee, her behavior seemed similar to her's. Not that she realized. Speaking of which. "Hold on. Isn't there, like, a fourth person in this room? Another guy with a weirdo costume?" In the midst of complaining and arguing, she realized it had been the three of them for a little while now.

"Arrrgh! The Captain has been mesmerized by me' crewmate's ability!" Arnold, now chipper and back to his normal self, gestured to Beardo and referred to his soundboard talent. "But fear not! Alexander must be on this flying ship, hidden from us!" Beardo again used his talent to mimic another sound; this time, of a stereotypical detective's theme. Then before Kiara could snark at them again, the fake pirate pointed at the wooden crate, situated near them. Nothing special could be noted about it, other than the large 'F' in red paint.

For clarification's sake, the cargo room they were in didn't seem to be a cargo room at all. If one remembered economy class in the Jumbo Jet from World Tour, its appearance resembled something similar to that. Metal floor, metal ceiling, metal walls - good luck getting comfortable and some sleep. The only props in the room were two very long benches; each connected from one end to the other - and the aforementioned crate.

"Why would he be hiding in there?" Kiara frowned, finding no logical reason for Alexander to be inside the crate, especially for this long. "There's like, no breathing room or space in there." Nonetheless, she decided to approach the prop because the other two, in her eyes, were incompetent morons. "Ugh! No surprise that I'm the prettiest and smartest in this room." As soon as she reached to check inside -

...She could hear a musical tune from inside said crate. At first, she turned her head to see if Beardo had decided to utilize his talent again, but all she received from him was a shrug. Kiara lifted the lid and awaited the contents from inside. "I can hear your music from inside!" In her mind, she wondered why she'd even bother getting involved in this.

Then silence. But before any of the three could utter a word, Arnold had guessed correctly. Alexander popped his upper body out of the crate, nothing notable with regards to injuries or torn clothes; he appeared to be fine and swell. Perhaps the tallest in the group, his signature garb resembled something a pied piper would wear: a red-blue-green vertically striped, long-sleeved shirt, tight black pants, and a hat with a feather on top, on top of his long, wavy brown hair.

"Forgive me for my sudden disappearance." Alexander held a rather formal tone of voice, coming off as a nonchalant, polite person. "Never in any intentions of mine did I want to worry any of you. I feel refined and refreshed; I had never been in danger or dragged away to another room, I will add." Soon the pied piper, with some assistance from Beardo and Arnold, climbed out of the crate and onto the metal floor. "Thank you, thank you." He added.

Being the most sane, or probably the only sane and normal person in the group, Kiara had to ask him a couple of important questions. "Umm, why were you in a crate? I know I didn't see anyone pass by, except for that… Hailee. And how are you, like, not looking uglier than you already are?" She gestured to his non-damaged physical state.

Alexander cleared his throat, not fazed by Kiara's rudeness. "My costume has a magnificent way of avoiding damage, in addition to the inner confined space lacking dirtiness." That earned a raised eyebrow from her, but he also ignored that. "But the answer thou seek is in the form of a rat - all by his lonesomeness."

"Can you speak normal English?!" Kiara shouted at him, fed up with this whole situation. She hoped the blimp would reach her destination as soon as possible. "I'm already stuck with guys who speak pirate, and noises, and like, a bunch of weird crap. I don't need to be reminded about my English teacher!"

In response, Alexander pulled out an instrument from his tight pants; one didn't need to be a musician to recognize the flute he held in his hand. "Such a variety of talented humans, in the eyes of mine. Come now, everyone. Allow me to demonstrate the tune of a rat's charm." As he put the instrument to his lip, Arnold and Beardo were intrigued, while Kiara had to tolerate this nonsense, from her perspective.

The pied piper began playing a tune that sounded harmonious. Such a tune provided a soothing and calm melody, almost like an angel playing a harp. His fingers were tapping along the holes of the flute, and soon he got into his natural, comfort zone. Even Kiara looked a little bit impressed, though it was hard to tell.

But things began to turn strange and almost unrealistic once a couple of rats crawled out of the crate Alexander had been chilling in. It's like they managed to hear his tune - then they started dancing along to his music; both were on their hind legs and standing on the lid of the crate. It had to be a fever dream or a drug trip, but two rats were indeed dancing to the rhythm of his flute playing.

Arnold had gotten interested in this as well, minus the dancing. "Arrrgh! This is some fine music, matey! Allow me to join in with a popular song!" He cleared his throat before beginning to sing, not warning anyone or giving them a chance to chime in. "Yo-ho, I'm a pirate of the sea! Give me a ship and I'll sink the rest; I'm a captain and I'm the best! There's a lotta gold, that's not some mold, my future crew will all be bold!" Unfortunate for him, none of the lyrics mattered because his singing sucked.

For Kiara the snobbish princess, she covered her ears in an attempt to block out the cringe singing. The calming tune from Alexander - who didn't stop in spite of the off-tune - wasn't enough to keep her sane. However, it could only get worse for her. Beardo, who had been quiet for a little while now, also decided to enter the fray with some beatboxing. They were your stereotypical beats one would hear from a DJ at a club, but still good, nonetheless. Or at the very least, better than Arnold's pirate song.

"Ugh! I'm not dealing with any of this crap!" Kiara snapped before storming away from the oddball trio. But she couldn't leave the room, lest she wanted to get into trouble and possibly disqualified. Not worth the risk to her. Thus, she settled in a corner, as far away from them as possible. She sat down, making sure to avoid getting her coat dirty.

She groaned into her hands, out of sheer frustration and irritation. "Why did I have to be stuck with these annoying weirdos?!" The snobbish princess glanced at the trio, still up to their shenanigans. "It's already awful that Kayla isn't here." Kiara muttered. "What's next? I have to see that psycho Soraya again and be on the same team as her?" Another groan.

This would be an absolute nightmare for her - a blimp ride from hell.

Rusty, clanky metallic everywhere. Not an inch of comfortability was met from one room to the next. The massive blimp obviously ticked all the boxes in terms of size and quantity alone, but the quality was near non-existent. At this point, cheap airlines should not come as a surprise to the viewers back home. But it was still mighty impressive that the blimp of this magnitude was able to sustain itself through the treacherous storm. Even more impressive than the Total Drama Jumbo Jet, but World Tour set the bar quite low for safety.

The next room was nothing near extraordinary. Following almost the exact same, formulaic interior of the previous room: metal, metal, and more cold metal. Not even the benches were safe from the metallic touch. Even the smell whiffing through the room tasted like iron. However, one key difference: the size. More tight and compact than the room prior, but with barely visible windows obscured by the dark-gray clouds.

Only four competitors occupied said room. Two sat on one side, while the other two sat across from them; both pairs distanced themselves from each other, almost like an invisible barrier slammed right through the room, separating both sides.

"Wow, get a load of these chicks, am I right?" A familiar farm boy named Rodney nudged the unamused, rather emotionless individual sitting right beside him.

Based on his don't-care stare towards the ceiling with the sternest crossed-arms in the room, it was quite obvious he did not want to be in that particular room, especially not near the love-obsessed Rodney. "I hope you weren't cooking up love potions back in your farm barn," he muttered sarcastically, knowing full-well his rather strange behavior. Pahkitew Island was his least-favorite season, no doubt. A season full of weirdos was something he could personally relate to, given that he dealt with a cartoony pirate and a dramatic pied piper back in Bakuhatsu Island.

"But-see, that's where you're wrong, Spencer." Rodney attempted to reassure, wrapping one arm around his shoulder like if he was his little brother, flashing a jolly grin. His farmer outfit remained the exact same from Pahkitew Island. Clearly not a spot of change was visible, aside from his visible boost in confidence. "I'm a changed man. No more lusting for every beautiful woman on an island. I've mastered the art of seduction with a little help from my bros back home. From now on, I will only be falling in love with two women max!" He expressed giddily while flashing a 'number two' with his two fingers in front of Spencer, unfazed by the reveal.

"Wow. What a vast improvement." Spencer remarked, enunciating the 'wow' with as much sarcastic punch as possible. His choice of clothing remained persistently grey, complementing his grey point of view: graceful grey coat, black undershirt and fitting black jeans. Dull-brown oxford shoes. Neatly combed hair; not too long, but not too short either. Clearly displayed a tasteful sense of fashion, albeit unimaginable.

"I know, right!" Rodney beamed with excitement, clearly not picking up his hint of sarcasm at all. "So… any of those two pretty girls sitting across from us catch your drift, if… you know what I mean?" He flashed both eyebrows repeatedly, bumping his shoulders with his massive elbows, tossing in a teasing wink for good measure.

The two girls sat right by each other. Same manner as Rodney and Spencer as they conversed over their time spent at both cooky islands. Two sides of the same coin, it seemed. One girl ringed familiarity for Pahkitew Island viewers: short height, black hair, and an outfit that one could easily find at a fashion mall and a fitness gym at the same time. Seemingly a Cree descendant. She had one knee up, right foot on the bench, easily flexing her thigh muscles through her black pants, paying close attention to a potential new friend.

"Yeah, boyfriends are overrated, I agree." Sky echoed back, nodding her head as she rested her chin on her palm. A hint of tingly sense of guilt slithered down her body while recalling the awkward time spent during the Pahkitew Island finale. "Now, don't get me wrong… I do feel bad for not spilling the beans with Dave, but I was desperate to win the final challenge. Million-dollar focused. You've seen Shawn's survival instincts? That's what I was up against."

Her listener sat quiet and timid, hands between her thighs, sitting as stiff and upright as possible. Taller than Sky, albeit less of an Olympic-like body and more of a slim physique. At first glance, one could easily assess her love for music simply for her white undershirt containing musical notes half-hidden underneath her red flannel. Tan-brown khaki pants with a visible orange-brown belt, plus a red-brown-ish beanie over her brown, armpit-length hair. Almost hipster-like.

"I've seen little bits of Bakuhatsu here and there when my sister finishes practice. You've had it rough, I'd assume, right?" Sky grimaced, rubbing the back of her neck. She felt tingly awkwardness again remembering her times with Dave. "Sorry if I'm being nosey, but it's… is it him?" She pointed across the room with her eyeballs, whispering, not wanting to raise tensions.

"I… I'd rather, um… I'd rather not talk about it. Not here, at least." She eyed down the floor, pouting her lips awkwardly, avoiding any potential eye contact between her and the boy sitting across from her. Clearly some form of drama that Sky was not fully aware of, but she was curious, nonetheless. "It's… yeah, oh-yeah, it's a long story," she giggled softly, glancing back at Sky.

"Tell me about it—" Sky was relieved that—at last—she found a competitor she could legitimately be great friends with. Someone that was not overly aggressive or stalkerish. "Sorry, didn't catch your name. Natalie, right?"

"Nanci, with an 'i'," she answered rather hesitantly, briefly chuckling straight afterwards. "My parents thought it'd be quirky. Could you imagine the many times my teachers had to awkwardly pronounce my name? It's… it literally shouldn't be hard pronouncing it to begin with. And they were my English teachers."

"Hey-at least you didn't have to endure the overwhelming number of sky jokes from my gym peers. Like, 'oh-look Sky, I can actually reach the sky'," she rolled her eyes, then chuckling at the thought of their simple jokes while shaking her head. "I may have lame friends," she giggled.

"Oh-you better get a load of my friends back home," Nanci babbled. "At least you didn't have to sit through some of the most, um…" she lowered her voice. "Some of the dirtiest, most weirdest jokes imaginable. They, um… they like to sometimes spitball nonsense whenever we reach that inevitable awkward silence where we all would gawk at the floor after finishing rambling on-and-on about indie rock, talking about the most random things—"

"HEY LADIES!" Rodney suddenly interrupted their flow, waving ecstatically while tightly wrapping one arm around Spencer's shoulders like they were already best friends, minus Spencer's unamused face over Rodney's touchy big-brother arm wrap. "Remember me, Sky? You've selected me as your first partner pick for the finale."

"Yeah? I think?" Sky rubbed her chin, unsure what territory the farmer was taking the conversation into. "Wh-why you ask?"

"You know…" Rodney flashed his eyebrows again, patting Spencer's back, almost knocking him off the bench. "This fine gentleman right here: his name's Spencer. He wants to really get to know you, if you know what I mean…"

"WHAT?" Spencer blurted, flustered and blushing while smacking his massive hand off his back. Sky raised an eyebrow, baffled over their bickering while Nanci continued eyeing the floor. "Dude," he lowered his voice to Rodney. "Nanci… is right there."

"Ohhhh, I know what this calls for..." Rodney simpered. A bright lightbulb popped out of his head while glancing at the girls, then looking back at Spencer; an idea sprung thinking of ways to shrink the awkward aura bouncing across the room. Or, at least, an attempt. "Two guys. Two girls. We should go on a double-date! Me and Nanci. Spencer and Sky. Genius!"

Spencer shook his head in utter disbelief by what the farmer boy just spat. Sky held her mouth open, unsure of what to make out of the added awkwardness while Nanci avoided eye-contact altogether, pulling out a spiral notebook, pretending to read her empty pages of paper.

"My apologies. He's an idiot." Spencer tried reassuring his normalness to Sky, who just remained stiff, almost seemingly like she was holding her laughter as she hovered her palm over her lips. "It's… yeah, the blimp's been making us go cuckoo. Sorry."

Sky giggled, sitting upright again with both palms on her knees. "Name's Sky. Saw a tiny sprinkle of last season. That jungle island was… it was something else…"

"Tell me about it." Spencer remarked, slouching with his arms crossed. "Even I'm astounded that I made it out alive. Ya know, given all the backstabbers and all—"

"Pfft." Nanci exhaled, still glaring at her empty pages in her notebook while ducking her face inside the book. Meanwhile, Spencer quickly stared down the floor, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Sky glanced at both Nanci and Spencer back and forth repeatedly, then finally at Rodney, who remained seated next to Spencer quiet and confused, shrugging at Sky. "So… Rodney… ready for another shot at the millions?"

"Me?" Rodney rubbed the back of his hair, already blushing. "Oh-I'm going all in. No more distractions. This time, things will be different. I can feel it. I will be shoving love to the side. It's all about the million-dollar mindset!"

"Oh, good to know!" Sky flashed a smile. A strong, heavy-lifting player like Rodney was someone she would want on her team, no doubt. Potential recipe for team greatness, she thought.

"Speaking of… million-dollar mindsets…" Spencer stood up, walking halfway across the room, eyeing the cold, metallic restroom door. The door frame was smothered with rust, hinting at a dirty bathroom inside. "I'm on a number 2 mindset," he muttered before attempting to open the door. Twisting the doorknob back and forth, it refused to budge. "Great. Door locked itself. Again. Only this time, someone forgot to hang the backup keys."

Nanci squinted after feeling a clinging dangle inside her pockets. Nope, not awkward at all… "Here's the keys. Sorry." she announced blankly, shoving the keys across the bench to her side without looking away from her notebook.

"Thanks." Spencer gritted his teeth, grabbing the keys while zooming straight to the restroom as soon as he swiftly unlocked it, facing away from the inevitable, uncomfortable tension filling up the room. Once inside, he intended to stay locked in as long as possible, wanting to avoid confrontation.

Rodney and Sky still remained hushed. The farm boy whistled while glancing at the ceiling from one end to the other; meanwhile, Sky slouched back on her seat, head leaning back onto the wall, sighing.

"So… Rodney…" Sky blew a string of hair away from her face. "You ready to return to Pahkitew Island?"

"As long as we don't stumble into those freaky killer robots," he crossed his arms, shivering over their frightening appearances. "That Scarlett is one scary lady. Is she… coming back?"

While he still found her rather attractive, the thought of her maniacal reveal continued to freak him out. "Can't believe she was my girlfriend at one point—" he mumbled before being interrupted.

"What?"

"Anyways…" Rodney continued, rubbing the back of his head in an awkward chuckle after noticing Sky's eyebrow raise. "Glad we could push our Pahkitew past to the side!" He slightly shifted his head, facing Nanci. "So… watcha readin' there, m'lady?"

"Um…" Nanci placed both feet onto the bench, knees up, attempting to buzz off Rodney as much as possible. "Just… sketches," she muttered.

"Oh… oh nice!" Rodney blushed, rubbing his thighs. "I… I really like… your hat!"

"Thanks?" She readjusted her beanie, almost falling off her head. "It's, um… it's just a beanie I've scouted from a local shop. But thanks." She resisted using any mean-spirited words. The entire room had a persistent, uncomfortable atmosphere flowing through-and-through.

"Psh." Sky stood up rather suddenly, awkwardly holding a soft giggle while facing away, not wanting to be rude. "I'm… gonna wait in line for the restroom."

From the outside, the hunky blimp floated across the gloomy sky without much of any sudden turbulence. While it slowly and slightly swayed from side to side, the blimp remained stiff and intact from a distance. Astounding, given its rather unstable appearance. The storm could produce as much lightning as it could, but that would not stop the blimp from reaching its destination.

Each four rooms where the competitors stayed and slept were connected right by each other like Lego pieces. From one end to the next. The following room right beside the awkward one was rather surprisingly restful and tranquil. Same interior design. Same uncomfortable metallic bench. All in all, a very similar room with too much air conditioning.

"Dude, quit eatin' up all my pawns!" A familiar punk criminal blurted out in frustration. Three people sat near each other on one bench while the fourth lone competitor sat alone across the other bench. Two of those players sitting nearby faced each other with a rustic chess board placed right in between them, on top of the bench while the third person—a curious spectator—glanced from behind. Glaring the chess pieces in stern concentration, the punk made his next move. Slams his opponent's pawn. Another piece bites the dust.

"Ayo, look who's talkin'?" The thief retorted. Taller and a more conniving appearance than his opponent, but still falling short to the current chess match. His choice of clothing remained the same ragged style from his Bakuhatsu days: brown leather jacket, worn dark-blue jeans, brown boots, and a dog tag dangling on his black undershirt. His brown hair combed back rather neatly, albeit greasy and bedhead-like. "I ain't got a clue on all that chess opening crap. Cut me some slack, yo!" he twirled a pawn in between his fingers. The brown chess pieces matched his skin tone, almost camouflaging underneath his sly hand.

"Ya gotta stop by prison sometime, bro," the punk remarked rather cockily, smirking at his opponent's lack of chess strategy. If one had seen the very first season of Total Drama, the punk would require no introduction. A chosen fan-favorite: his iconic green mohawk. His signature devious grin. Menacing black shirt. Overall, similar appearance, albeit more roughed up with fading dashes of scratches on his face. A few additional face piercings here and there, but still intimidatingly recognizable from his Total Drama days. "This dweeb near my cell taught me the fundamentals of chess. Learned some killer moves. Upped up my intellectual game. This game is actually for the brightest minds. Which… I am," he exhaled, hands behind his head, flashing the smuggest grin in the room.

"Damn, hey Hunter, Mr. Mohawk's got you beat," the spectating girl sitting behind Hunter whispered to his ear teasingly, surveying the chess board with her small hands gently holding onto Hunter's right shoulder. "So, we got two bad boys playin'... chess?" Although pleasantly surprised by their engagement in the game, she remained unfazed. Her eyes chilled and relaxed, head-resting onto Hunter's shoulder, almost ready to fall asleep, yawning. She ditched her running jacket and wore her black tank top and grey running shorts. Clean-white sneakers and white wired earbuds dangling around her neck complemented her simple outfit. Nothing too overly complicated. For her, it was preferable that way.

"Yo, Daniela, this game is not for the faint-hearted, know what I'm sayin'?" Hunter retorted, fully concentrating on the board, staring at a single bishop, contemplating over a single move while Duncan continued smirking, growing arrogant by the second.

"Pfft." Daniela held her laughter, resting her elbow onto the wall, flicking her silky black hair off her face. "Damn, dude. And here, I thought you were a bigger bad boy than that purple-haired Max kid over there—"

"It's… Evil Max!" The lone boy sitting on the opposite bench finally spoke up, barking back at the relaxed, kicked-back Daniela. "Such simpleton…" he thought of her. While she was rather short in height, Max still managed to fall on the shorter end, but regardless; his eccentric outfit choice made him a one of a kind: his signature all-grey outfit from Pahkitew. His 'evil' white shoes. Accompanied by a mechanical headset device he had been tweaking for the whole ride, hidden behind his back: his 'evil hypnosis weapon'. What a remarkable achievement for such a little man. "Don't be such a fool next time. Also, chess is beneath me. I already carry a bright, evil, evil mind."

"Wow. Que malvado muy sexy." Daniela remarked, teasing his bravado while stifling her laughter.

"I heard the word 'sexy', so thank you, madam." Max crossed his arms, smirking, feeling a boost of confidence after a fairly attractive female 'complemented' his appearance.

"She was mockin' you, dweeb-head." Duncan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You must be part of that weirdo Pahkitew cast. Figures," he looked away from Hunter's embarrassingly long chess move contemplation, glaring at Max's stern face, pretending to be fearless in front of the criminal as Duncan continued eyeing him down. "You've never seen true evil. I've gone to prison and back. You've painted your hair purple. Trust me, you'd be eaten alive in prison with that hairdo."

"This… is one of the fifty shades of evil!" Max pointed at his hair in pride, firing back at the punk's attempt to scare him. "I've witnessed your goodness shine bright in All-Stars. You've lost your evil touch. It's time to retire, old man."

"Oh-I'll show ya evil, alright!" Duncan instantly stood up, almost knocking the chess board off the bench with his knee. The pieces falling to the side irked Hunter, finally about to slide his rook after a long pondering time before all the pieces tipped over.

"Ayo, what the hell! I just moved my rook, dawg!" Hunter complained, ignoring the showdown that was about to occur between the criminal and 'evil incarnate'.

"Shh. Let 'em fight, dude." Daniela attempted to calm him down, wrapping her arms around his slim neck. "This a new jacket? Smells like upscale. Totally not stolen or anything like that…"

"Already mockin' my winnin' mindset. Typical Dani." Hunter fired back. Not too fazed by her teasing nature, but still feeling his character attacked deep within. "I scammed the hell out of my boss at work. Snatched this ice off his office counter too. Sucker," he pulled down his jacket sleeve, revealing an expensive-looking wristwatch. Top notch brand, seemingly like diamonds encrusted on the wheel.

"Dude, you brought it with you because?" Daniela teased, raising an eyebrow over him bringing such a valuable item to the show.

"Heard that spoiled princess-wannabe chick is joinin' the ride," he hovered his wristwatch in front of her unamused face. "Hear me out; I gotta make a good first impression to lure her in and—"

"Lemme guess, snatch her tiara?" She interrupted him, knowing him full-well of his petty, low-blow tactics. "That's pretty predictable, dude," she chuckled, resting her chin on her knuckles.

"And that's how I roll, baby," he flashed a peace sign, resting his back onto the wall with his arms crossed while thinking he dropped the hottest one-liner. "'Cause hear me out; ya wanna win this season? Don't risk a gamble, chica. Be a cockroach. If it works, it works."

"Whatever you say," she giggled, also crossing her arms while observing the other two and their prolonged stare-down. "You two bad boys gonna fight? Or give each other besitos?" She mocked, making kissing noises.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Duncan flashed a playful middle finger behind his back, prompting Daniela to flash a middle finger back, smiling teasingly.

"Now that you're distracted by the power of lust…" Max muttered before reaching in his left pocket, pulling out a laser pointer the size of a flashlight, aiming his scope directly towards his red sneakers before pressing the trigger. Unlike his previous contraptions, his new laser pointer was more competently crafted. For once, one of his devices actually caused some damage, burning a piece of Duncan's shoe as the punk shrieked in pain, hopping on one foot. "MWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Feel the wrath of my ultimate weapon of mass destruction! Scarlett's laser gun isn't so useless after all!" Of course, the device was not completely crafted by Max himself.

"Oh… YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!" Duncan charged ahead furiously, chasing the screeching Max as they zoomed around the room in a cartoony fashion, leaving behind trails of metallic dust like a coyote chasing a roadrunner.

Meanwhile, Max shot his lasers back frantically, leaving behind careless streams of black burns on the ceiling and walls. "Don't make me hypnotize you with my evil headset!" He shouted while running for his life, dropping buckets of sweat off his forehead.

"Ayo, kick his ass, dawg!" Hunter yelled rowdily before swiftly sneaking to the other bench, snatching the supposed 'hypnosis device' without Max ever noticing. "This that Hunter-type maneuver, babe," he muttered to Daniela, still unamused over his predictability. "Like I've said before; all the Latinas back home love me. Soon, you'll learn to love me too. I'm an acquired taste, babe."

"Pftt. Keep dreamin', cornball," she slouched, unimpressed.

"Ha-ha!" Duncan finally caught up to Max, gripping his purple hair tightly while hovering him in the air, stretching his purple, smiley-face undies over his head while dropping him to the cold floor. "Wedgie Wednesday, dweeb!" He smirked before laughing maniacally, returning back to his seat.

"You may have bested me this time, old man…" Max returned back to his bench in defeat, unable to reach his stretched underwear over his head with his tiny arms. "But soon, I will have my revenge!" His vengeful face quickly morphed into worry as soon as he noticed his missing headset device. "Hey! Where'd my evil mind control weapon go?" After sitting down, he pointed angrily towards Duncan. "Give me back my device at once, old man!"

"Ha!" Duncan shrugged it off. "I don't have it, dweeb."

Hunter smirked, hands behind his back, striking his green eyes at Max's buffoonery with a conniving smile. Another valuable tossed to Hunter's hidden collection. "Yo, you might've… switched on 'invisible mode' on your headset or somethin'..."

"You're right! I forgot I implemented such a feature on my genius device!" Max began waving his hands around the bench like a blind man looking for his glasses. "It's got to be around here somewhere…"

"Keep lookin', dude! You'll find it eventually!" Hunter blurted out before smirking yet again, facing towards the other two. "Yo, I heard they got some valuable goodies underneath Pahkitew. Y'all saw the size of that control room? They be packin' who-knows-what under all that security."

"Who cares what's underneath." Duncan retorted, sitting up straight, unamused. "Dude, they got casinos in the town center! I could use a gamble or two."

"The gamble life ain't it, yo." Hunter shook his head, recalling his time spent on Bakuhatsu. "Been there, done that."

"Pfft. With what money?" Daniela chuckled.

"I'm a thieving bastard, babe," he winked, then flashed his signature smirk. "Got a new game plan this season. Ain't no way I'm repeatin' the same mistakes."

"Right on, bro," Duncan grinned before extending his hand to Hunter for a fist bump. "I stole a fair share from that nerd-king Harold," he laughed. "I think we'll get along just fine…" he ended on a rather duplicitous note. Classic Duncan.

"Hell yeah, bro. Hell… yeah." Hunter reciprocated with his own cunning smile. Seemingly, a clash of personalities, but both smirked it off, acting like buds in the meantime before the inevitable conflict of interests.

Both knew the game, and they played along with it. Daniela already knew them too well, rolling her eyes teasingly. Max, however, remained oblivious, still searching for his device of evil near the fallen chess pawns, hoping it would pop up any time soon.

Any second now…

Same room, same everything. Metal there, metal over there, metal almost everywhere. Just like the other three cargo rooms beforehand, this one continued the trend of grey color scheme all over, two very long benches in which both connected from one end to the other, and one single wooden crate placed by itself. This crate had a large 'U' on the front in red paint. Nothing new at all.

But the four people in this room were a different story. If one were keeping track of the gender ratio, they would figure out that all of the men had been introduced; only four women were left. The lack of testosterone didn't matter when it came to conflict and drama. At that moment, the current atmosphere in that room felt tense. One look at them and they could understand why. At least, those who watched Pahkitew did.

On one side, a woman of Caucasian descent - a possible valley girl - with short blonde hair, soft blue eyes, and an athletic build, glared at the people sitting across from her, her arms crossed to provide some emphasis. Her outfit seemed to be casual, suitable for the outdoors on a normal, summer day: a long-sleeved white shirt with red outlines, a raspberry red skirt with a dark red belt wrapped around her waist, and black sneakers. Of course, one couldn't forget about the mole on her cheek, or beauty mark as she claimed.

The girl sitting next to her paid no attention to the staredown; she appeared to be in the middle of meditating, in a lotus position. Eyes closed and matching platinum blonde hair with Kiara - different hairstyles though - but her skin was as pale as a vampire's. She wore a forest green sweater with baggy sleeves and her sky-blue collar sticking out, as well as a black skirt with matching leggings, and small black shoes.

"I sense a great disturbance in this plane." The meditating girl said quietly to herself; said girl went by the name of Dawn. "The horrible smell of metal and iron is harmful to Mother Nature's children. But I can feel the storm arriving as I speak." Quick reminder that there were no windows for them to see outside of the blimp.

For a quick moment, the girl with a raisin on her cheek turned to glare at Dawn, not in the mood for her weird nonsense. "Do you mind shutting up? I don't need to hear your weird, hippie chants." This mean girl, if one hadn't recognized her, was known as Amy. Then she returned her glare towards the two ladies sitting across from her.

"Leave the girl be, mate. Your presence is already bad enough as it is." One of the girls, Jasmine, defended Dawn with a slight frown. She didn't want to get aggressive. Not yet at least. Her Australian accent could be heard, as clear as a bright sun on a warm day.

The first notable physical trait of Jasmine was with regards to her height. Without a doubt, she was the tallest of the four competitors in the room, and possibly the tallest of all the people introduced. Her trademark safari hat rested on top of her black hair, which was tied in a simple ponytail. Her garb seemed to be a little bit revealing, but suitable for the outdoors, nonetheless: a small jacket over a plain white t-shirt that looked more like a crop-top, given her exposed belly button, khaki shorts with a collection of pockets, and brown boots that were meant for trudging across a desert.

Amy was quick to verbally retaliate. "Like I'd take a giant beast like you seriously. Did you pick up those lame insults from Samey?" She put emphasis and added a nasty sneer upon mentioning the fourth girl's name — followed by intensifying her glare towards her, who slinked into her seat a little bit. The glare itself struck some fear into her.

It didn't take a detective to figure out that Amy and Samey were sisters; they were identical twins, sans a couple of physical features. Same blonde hair, same athletic build, and same skin tone, amongst other things. Samey, however, lacked a mole on her cheek, and dressed differently from her sister. She, too, kept it casual with her outfit: an unzipped, denim blue jacket over a dark blue shirt, a simple pair of jeans, and white sneakers that were coated in stains — probably all caused by Amy.

"C-Calm down, Amy." Samey, still a bit scared from how intimidating her sister was behaving, tried to diffuse the situation. "Y-Your presence is v-very welcomed here. You're very w-welcomed here." She felt nervous, but she knew this would probably get her to calm down, or at the very least, avoid her wrath.

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Amy sneered at her younger twin sister, who slinked further into her seat. She looked ready to stand up and walk over to her, just for the sake of making her feel like absolute trash. "You've lost every right to be treated like a human, ever since you tried to kill me! What kind of person gives their sister a poisoned apple?!"

"A person who doesn't wanna deal with an abusive sister…" Samey muttered to herself. She twiddled her thumbs while looking down at the ground. From stuttering to meekness, she let out a very quiet sigh after failing to accomplish her goal. Even agreeing with her and taking her side didn't end well.

But unfortunately for her, Amy heard her voice, but not what she said. "Did you say something?! I know you said something about me, and I wanna hear it!" At this point, she stood up and began walking towards her younger sister. Sweat drops started running down her forehead. Poor Samey; the season hadn't even started yet.

"Enough! Bloody hell, what is wrong with you, mate?" Jasmine butted into the situation, having also stood up, but to defend Samey from the wrath of her older sister. Compared to Amy's height, the Australian outbacker almost made her look like a small child. "I'd suggest sitting down before you and I are gonna have serious problems." Her voice may've been calm, but there was a hint of sternness behind it.

"I-It's okay, J-Jasmine. I'm sure Amy h-has a good reason to y-yell at me right now." Samey forced a weak smile, for the sake of preventing a fight from breaking out, or just the conflict from escalating in general. "Umm, t-to answer your question, A-Amy -" She gave in and was about to tell her older sister what she muttered to herself.

"No, Samey." Jasmine stopped her, more sternness in her voice. She refused to let Amy get the better of her again. "I'm not letting this dingo treat ya' like that. Especially not like mud." The outbacker turned her frown into a glare that almost matched Amy's. "Even if I don't know the whole story, this kind of treatment is beyond cruel!"

"Oh shut up! You're only saying that 'cause you never liked me!" Amy countered, bringing up a rather fair point. "You think Samey is some sweet girl who can't do no wrong! She's obviously sucking up to me and stuttering so you can, like, feel bad for her!" At this point, Samey scooted over a little bit, closer to Jasmine, as Amy continued. "And like, is there a problem with me being mean to someone who clearly wanted her own sister dead?"

"There's no need to inflict your insecurities onto a kind soul." Before Jasmine could retort in return, another voice had spoken up. The voice that belonged to one meditating girl, now standing right next to Amy. Dawn stood rather very close to the older twin cheerleader; that caused some discomfort for said cheerleader.

Amy quickly stepped away from her, around a few footsteps. She seemed more creeped out by her, if anything. "Uhh, were you creeping on me behind my back?" In the process, she tried to avoid the topic of her potential insecurities. "Look, I don't know what's normal for weirdos like you, but you seriously better give me my personal space."

Dawn did not seem fazed by her rude behavior, maintaining the stoic expression and calm tone of voice. "Oh, I only walked over here." She answered, short and simple. "I heard cries from Mother Nature's children and she wanted me to help heal their souls." Then a small smile appeared on her face as she looked at Samey. "Your aura is a dark shade of blue; you yearn for kindness from someone who will rescue you from years of pain."

At that aura reading, Samey could only turn more nervous, given Amy's presence in the same room. She flustered a bit, having trouble figuring out an appropriate response. "O-Oh, umm… t-thank you. Umm… I think…? But I'm not in pain right now - I'm like, fine." Another forced smile came from her, including a forced chuckle as the cherry on top.

Then Dawn turned her attention towards Jasmine, who seemed a bit baffled at this mystic in front of her. She did an aura reading for her as well. "You seem to have a bright orange aura; it suits you very well." Her small smile remained. "Your independence comes from a love of an outdoor adventure, and a desire to fill an empty void in your heart."

Hearing the second half of her reading caused the Australian outbacker to feel some discomfort. It seemed difficult to tell, based on her facial expression, but her body language sorta gave it away. "H-Hold on. Mate, you can't just say something like that and have people be okay with it." Jasmine tried to divert the topic away by lightly scolding her.

Amy scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh my gag. Stop acting like a soccer mom!" She had no intention of defending Dawn, but rather to shut up Jasmine. Then she grabbed the aura reader's attention. "Hey Hippie, do your magic thing on me! I deserve to be praised as the smartest, prettiest, and most athletic cheerleader!" Her display of narcissism caused Jasmine and even Samey to roll their eyes, though the latter kept it more hidden.

Dawn said nothing as she closed her eyes and began to do her third aura reading in a row. She then gasped and opened her eyes. "Oh my! Your aura is an exceptionally dark shade of red!" No smile could be spotted on her face. "You seem to be passionate about spreading harm and evil to other kind souls! Tell me; were you ever told you weren't good enough as a child?" A hand placed on Amy's shoulder, but the mean twin smacked her hand off.

"Don't touch me, you creepy weirdo!" Amy snapped at her, especially for the insensitive question. She realized all three of them were against her, and only her. Not that she had realized, or admitted if she did, her own behavior caused this. "Ugh! Screw this! At least the bathroom will treat me better than Samey, unlike you losers!"

Next to the door that would lead to the next room, another door stood as the bathroom door. Dangling on the rusty door knob was a key that'd unlock the door. Amy grabbed the item and unlocked it, proceeding to slam the door shut upon entering. One didn't need to see her to tell she was seething from inside. For Jasmine and Samey, however, to them it felt like the atmosphere wiped away the tension, for the most part.

The aura reader could only observe the matter, feeling rather confused on why Amy reacted in a hostile manner. "The aura and soul never lies." Dawn remarked; she only did her work and gave Amy an honest answer. Nonetheless she let out a faint sigh. "It'll take time, but I know Mother Nature will heal her heart and cleanse her of the dark pain."

"Ah, don't beat yourself up over her." Jasmine attempted to comfort her, a genuine small smile on her face. "Amy's as nasty as they come. Just as I expected though, she's still the same dingo from our season - much worse now, actually." She shook her head, though she didn't seem surprised at this outcome. "But she'll be gone in a day or two."

Samey nodded in agreement, though more reserved. "Y-Yeah… I hope so…" She muttered very quietly to herself so Jasmine or Dawn couldn't hear her. Part of her wanted to approach the bathroom door and knock on it so she could try to cheer up her older sister. But ultimately, she settled on sitting back down and pondered to herself.

If only she had a window or mirror to stare at - she pondered about that.

After passing by a few more rooms, ignoring the commotion and occasional glances Hailee received from some of the competitors - the ones from Bakuhatsu in particular - because she had zero time for that crap, she made it all the way to the final room on the blimp. Probably considered the most important room, the maintenance area held all of the important hardware and machines that kept the engine running. She knew to never sabotage any of the technological devices in this very room, lest she wanted an early demise. Still holding the stack of papers that Chef Hatchet handed over, the blonde co-host grumbled to herself about the contestants being more of a headache than last time, amongst other things. Soon she set them down on a small wooden table.

One might wonder why a wooden table would be situated in a maintenance room, but truth be told, part of the area had been designed to be a miniature office room; it could've been a coincidence because of Hailee's current assignment, but then again, the technical workers could only last so long standing up the entire time while on an aircraft. Again though, that didn't matter to her, as she had something to complete. She sat down and got to work.

"Organizing and shuffling papers." She grumbled in a manner of complaining. Then a scoff escaped her mouth. "Might as well get an intern to handle this ordeal." Hailee grabbed the first paper and skimmed through the content, flipping to the next page in a matter of seconds. "Oh? Looks like he left me in charge of the newcomers." That once slight frown of hers changed to a small smirk. "Let's see how promising they'll be."

The stack of papers were arranged in small packets, around two to four pages, with the occasional five and above. Back to the first packet, she returned to the first page, now that the content on it piqued her interest. "First one here is… Jacque." Hailee raised an eyebrow and carefully read through his information. "Not bad. Better than those Ice Dancers too." She threw shade at the team, and by extension, at Don and the Ridonculous Race show.

She set the packet aside and moved on to the second one. "Second victim is… Viola." Unlike with Jacque's information, Hailee seemed a bit more unimpressed with this one. "This woman better not bore everyone to death with her classical music." Onto the third packet. "This one goes by Preston." The blonde co-host said to herself, proceeding to read more about him. Her small, devious smirk returned. "Chef's going to have fun with him; maybe I could get two gourmet meals if the mood strikes."

As it turned out, organizing papers wasn't so bad if interesting content were on it and no one stood nearby to monitor her. The multiple pages were tedious, but the once-large stack started dwindling down in size as Hailee moved to the next person. "Keesha. At least she'll be more tolerable than Viola, unless she gets too nice and drama-free. That'd send the team on a field day." By standard, the packets were organized in alphabetical order. "Wane. Great. He doesn't have a last name, and I don't know why, but I have an immense feeling he'll bring in a lawsuit or two." Hailee deadpanned at his information.

Regardless, she still pushed forth to the next person. She had a simple routine: read through the interesting stuff, skim through the boring content. "Cora. Well, this will bring in more viewers, but… the weird, fanservice-loving, fetish-loving ones. Whatever. More viewership means more money, and a better reputation for us." That packet was a doozy, up to seven pages. Next one seemed more on the shorter side. "Frederick. Seriously? Another jock? Don't they understand that viewers aren't interested in cliches?" She scoffed.

For a quick second, she pulled out her smartphone to check for the time, before moving on to the next person. "Uma. More fanservice, more fans - if she wants to go ham, spread her legs open for every competitor, as long as we benefit from it." She shrugged, ultimately not caring about her lifestyle or life choices. Then to the next packet. "Walter. Now we have ourselves a male Courtney." Hailee frowned, the prospect of him raging and slamming the company with lawsuit after lawsuit made her want to demand why the production team chose someone like him.

The stack shrunk more and more, as the organized pile began to grow larger. "Dylan. Way to confuse other people. Couldn't her parents have named her Daisy or Delilah?" Every person she read about, she seemed to have some commentary output. It could be a method of ranting out her feelings. "Rival. Finally, someone that's interesting and worth being a Total Drama contestant. He better not be one of those obnoxious White Knights." Another person finished, and the stack appeared to be almost done.

Hailee picked up the next packet. "Eliza. Now this is someone who'll provide uniqueness to the show." She genuinely looked impressed, even if it was a smidge bit. Then it returned to a more-serious expression. "But we'll have issues if her sleepiness causes the ratings to decrease." Part of her grew curious and decided to check to see how many newcomers she still had to read through: a total of four. "Carter. Another potentially entertaining competitor. If he can bring in the drama with his skepticism, then who am I to complain?"

At that point, she decided to spread out the last three packets, not wanting to continue picking up one at a time. "Shun. It's a weird name, but she'll provide some pain humor. She's decent." Hailee remarked before moving on to the second-last person. "Benjamin. A… night owl? Well, we do need a few weirdos and extraordinary characters after all." Now to the last person and her task would be finished. "Melissa. She better not be a female version of Beverly; those folks on Bluedit and Corddis will start protesting, and I am not dealing with them again."

A minute or so after, Hailee had organized the new stack in alphabetical order; the edges were neatly aligned and not a single piece of paper stuck out. "Child's play. Now I look forward to that medium-rare steak for dinner." She stood up and began heading back to the cockpit, even if it meant encountering the wild contestants again.

But just like wild animals, wild contestants were possible to tame and control.

ACCEPTED SUBMISSIONS FILE:

MALES:

Jacque Cortez Metoyer, "The Sheisty Dude"

Preston Smokevin, "The Cook"

Wane 'Moneybags', "The Natural Disaster"

Frederick Girard, "The Dumb Jock with a Heart"

Walter Lawson, "The Future Lawyer"

Rival Seizon, "The Protective Fighter"

Benjamin Walker, "The Night Owl"

Carter Kane, "The Skeptic"

FEMALES:

Viola Lin, "The Classical Musician"

Keesha White, "The Soul Singer"

Dylan Odette Chiu, "The Tomboy Ballerina"

Uma Thurman, "The Vegas Showgirl"

Cora Ashley Bell, "The Fallen Star"

Eliza Fox, "The Tired Delivery Girl"

Shun Asuga, "The Thrill-Seeking Roller Skater"

Melissa Telia Robinson, "The Klutzy Inventor"

Lillaptop's A/N: So, here it is! The entire cast revealed! As you all probably wondered; yes, the total number of accepted OC submissions has been extended to 16! We've received so many excellent applications, but unfortunately, given the limited selection pool, we had to choose the most well-suited characters for this fic. If you don't see your OC on the roster, it does not mean I wasn't a fan or anything like that. Believe me, we've received a whole lot of OCs! I'd wish to cram in more, but 16 was the absolute max I was willing to go, so my apologies if your character didn't make the cut. I wish you the best in your future SYOC endeavors!

Back to the roster, congrats to those that made it in! We have so much in store for the OCs, so stay tuned for the upcoming second prologue, where we will introduce the newbies! This prologue showcased some potential dynamics with the Pahkitew cast and Bakuhatsu cast (with a sprinkle of foreshadow here and there) so be on the lookout for that!

As you've probably noticed, this story will also have a co-writer! This prologue would mark the beginning of having a chapter written by two authors, so expect faster updates from here on out!

And now, I will pass the mic to Project-Drama, the co-writer for Pahkitew Showdown!

Project-Drama's A/N: Greetings! You may or may not recognize me from the past, but yes, it's true. This story indeed has a co-writer; that person being me! I'm very excited to show you what's in store for this season! Hope you stick around for the ride, and allow me to go into a bit more detail for the sections I wrote. Side note: quick shoutout to Lillaptop himself for providing me an opportunity!

In addition to Group 1 and Group 4—his Bakuhatsu characters and the cheerleader twins were most fun to write for—and I hoped you thought I portrayed them correctly, I opted for a simple reveal scene from Hailee. Hope you didn't find that part boring. But that also means the next chapter will be the newbies' time to shine, as mentioned above! Me and Lillaptop will be sure to write them as accurately as possible.

Lillaptop and Project: So, before we close this chapter:

Your overall thoughts? Which people caught your attention in the cast file? What about the characters/returnees introduced in this prologue? Any theories/predictions?

Next chapter will be introducing the new cast members, so as always, stay tuned!