Title: Johnny Survivor
Rating: PG-13 (More innuendo and implied, possibly blatant drug use. I don't condone it, I plays 'em as I sees 'em. And with Duke... it's sort of expected.)
Summary: (The first 3 chapter summaries give you the gist.) Angels just don't seem to want to leave their Johnnies well enough alone. It's called alone time for a reason. :P And Hahaga... well... you'll see.
Disclaimer: I own diddly squat. Not the newest edition to the Angel Crew, not her name, and still no Johnnies (drat). I don't even own the Squirrel Nut Zippers album that I'm listening to.
Author's Notes: Okay... so I'm a little late. Little late. Just the tiniest smidgeon... oh the heck with it. I'm terrible. You all should just stop reading this right now. Turn away and shun me. (But you can't. ;)) I'd also like to thank the folks that sent in challenge ideas. Helpful like you wouldn't believe
Helpful Info For the Uninformed: A few of you have expressed confusion about who these Angels I speak of are. Well, I shall try my best to explain without ruining us too much. Heh, I'm just bad with details. At any rate, there's a website, called Johnny's Angels (Google search, first result) and the gist of it is, is that there are... devoted fangirls that represent each of Johnny's movies. At least we're trying to get there. It's definitely a hoot and a half (did I say that?) and the people are fun and it's just utter insanity. Good insanity. And as to initials like DB, SS, FF, etc. we just really, really like initials. It cuts down on the time it takes to address someone and it looks cool too. There are a few that don't have initials, (like me, Arenas) but it's still better than entire titles. Trust me. I might include a glossary of Angels and Johnnies at the end of a chapter or the end of the story if folks seem up for it. But if you are interested in the site, we'd love new members.
Bats, Lizards and Manta Rays, Oh My!
Last time
--- Spencer was spurring Inaga on to victory with an old memory of moai history. Using a set of log rollers combined with mashed sweet potatoes, Inaga was able to pull their moai up a slope to its final resting place atop the tribe's ahu. Hahaga must now face their first Tribal Council.
Hahaga- Tribal Council
--- "Gosh, this is going to be fun," Sands murmured. His face wasn't the confident mask it often was; he seemed even a little defeated by the idea of possibly getting voted out. Not that it really stood out from the somber expressions of the rest of his team mates.
"Let's get this over with," Fred sighed
They gathered their staffs (Edward recruiting Cesar to carry his) and set out into the Rapa Nui wilderness.
They're walk wasn't a long one, about half an hour total. It was the team's first glimpse of the clearing lit by torches every 2 feet. The bonfire in the middle would have been pleasant if not for the fact that they wouldn't have seen it were they not supposed to kick someone off the island. After milling around, Survivors were directed to their seats after lighting their torches in the central fire.
"Welcome, Hahaga. I trust you had a worry free 9 days. However, it's time to do what Inaga's been doing this past week. First, I'd like to get the low down. Jack... can you explain the team chemistry doing so well then losing this past round?"
"Well, mate... I 'ttribute it t'the lack o' rum!"
"Lack of rum?"
"Aye!"
"I see. Okay, Mort. I notice there's been some alliances building up. Care to try and explain the logic behind the match ups or...?"
"I'm not in an alliance!" Mort cried indignantly.
"What about Bon-bon-..."
"That's not an alliance! That's... that's... a..." Mort was waving his hands wildly at Bon-bon trying to come up with the appropriate words. Only the right ones would do. Bon-bon watched expectantly, a serious look clouding her face.
"A..." Mort eventually stopped trying. Despite popular belief, he wasn't a mean spirited person. That was Shooter and he couldn't help that.
"Very interesting," the host smirked, thinking he'd won. "Last question, Fred. Tempers. Who's got the worst and does the team suffer for it?"
"Sands," Fred answered without preamble or hesitation. The agent craned his head around Mort and Jack to peer at the Inspector. "What? You do."
"Thanks. I'll remember that," Sands muttered, a glare trained on Fred. The host decided wisely not to comment on that.
"Okay, Hahaga, time to vote. Bon-bon, you're up. Bon-bon rose from the wooden bench, wincing from splinters, and sauntered over to the voting booth of doom.
Bon-bon
--- "Oh, I don't know. I can't vote right. I'm sorry you have such an unfortunate name but I just don't want to vote. I'm a lover not a fighter."
Fred
--- "You're temper is a hindrance to us."
Mort
--- "You scare me and you're a terrible influence on Shooter. You're gone."
Duke
--- "You... uh... don't seem to be doing a whole lot and... uh... I'm voting for you. Sorry, bubba."
Hahaga- Tribal Council
--- Edward had been the last to vote, scratching his choice onto (and often through) a piece of the parchment. Creative use of sharp bladed hands managed to get the top off eventually, and drop the awkward paper inside. He didn't bother to replace it, having steadily run out of time and patience.
"I'll go tally the votes.
During the time the host was away, Sands and Fred managed to engage in a glaring contest which Jack soon partook in just for fun.
"Once the decisions are read, the vote is final," the host nodded at Fred and Sands, warning them with a glance. Fred sulked while Sands simply sat back.
"The first vote. Cesar."
Cesar looked slightly confused.
"Second vote. Duke."
"What the-...!"
Sands glared at Duke. Duke's mouth snapped shut.
"Cesar."
Cesar's lips pursed.
"Sands."
SJ rolled his eyes.
"Cesar. 3 votes Cesar, 1 vote Duke, 1 Sands," the host recapped. Cesar's jaw twitched.
"Cesar. 4 votes Cesar."
Fred glanced at the Survivor he'd become closest to over the week.
"Bon-bon."
Her jaw dropped.
"The first Survivor voted out of Hahaga..." the host unnecessarily turned Edward's torn paper. "Cesar, bring me your torch."
Cesar nodded, shedding a tear. He hadn't wanted it to end this early. Not even with the other's bickering as much as they did. It hurt.
"Cesar, fire represents your life on Rapa Nui. When it goes out, you too are out. The tribe has spoken."
The putter-outer descended on Cesar's torch and snuffed it out. Tear-streaked, Cesar turned without a word and left.
Cesar
--- "I hadn't expected to make it to the final round. That was wishful thinking. But I didn't expect to be kicked out this early either. I must assume it's for the best. Otherwise... where would I be?"
Duke
--- "Whoever voted for me works for the World Bank! I'll find out who you are and get Gonzo on your case!"
Bon-bon
--- "I sure hope it wasn't my Morty-bear who voted for me..."
Hahaga- Night
--- It had begun to rain on the walk back. This prompted a few of the more athletic (or possibly energetic) Johnnies to jog back to save the fire from almost certain death. When everybody was crowded around the hissing embers 5 minutes later, it was Jack who managed to suggest a tarp of some kind. A mad scramble, a few sticks and a plastic canvas from Mort's pocket later, the fire was not totally dead and in fact, beginning to revive slightly. Nevertheless, it was another cold, sleepless night for Hahaga.
Inaga- Morning
--- Spencer's eyes refused to open. Some unknown force was keeping his eyelids glued shut and it was starting to bother him. Hoping it wasn't conjunctivitis, he peeled his right eye open. It refused to stay that way. He tried again. And again.
"Uh... somebody? A little help?" Spencer called, carefully avoiding sudden movements.
"Spence?"
"Yeah, Fish Boy, whoever you are-..."
"Axel."
"That's great, listen... my eyes won't stay open. I can open them, but they don't stay that way. Why?"
"My professional opinion, I'd say that you're over-tired and just got some of the best sleep ever."
"But why would my body betray me like this?"
"It happens, I wouldn't take it personally."
"Easy for you to say, you're used to it."
"Oh... right, alien."
"Do I have to lie here like an idiot until it decides it'd like to cooperate or...?"
"More or less."
"That doesn't help."
"Sorry."
"Axel?" Gilbert's voice floated over the myriad of noises invading Spencer's consciousness.
"Well, aren't you the popular one, Fish Boy. Go, go, I'll be fine," Spencer mock sighed. Axel rolled his eyes at the dramatics, aware Spencer couldn't see, and went to find Gilbert.
"You yelled?"
"Did you see this?"
"See what?"
"Look!" Gilbert proceeded to point a finger out into the Pacific Ocean. Axel followed the finger until his mouth gaped in astonishment. It was a boat with a banner hanging off the port bow. Axel couldn't be sure from that distance, but he thought the passengers were awfully familiar.
The sails were bright orange with the heartening message, 'Inaga to win' painted across them. He could almost imagine that it was his... angel in waiting tied to a chair... Was it ILA?
"AXEL!!! IT'S ME! YOUR NEW ANGEL! I'M ROO!"
Axel thought he was going to faint. His... angel?
"AXEL! GOOD LUCK, I'M ROOTING FOR YOU!"
Axel was compelled to reply, but it wasn't the heroic 'fear not' that he'd hoped to give. "YOUR NAME'S ROO?"
"THE ROLLING ROOSTER! I HAVE TO GO AXEL, GOODBYE! I HOPE YOU WIN!"
SS patiently gave Roo a chance to take a sip of water and rest her vocal chords. Raphael was scouting Inaga, looking to see if he'd missed anything.
"Makes me almost wish I'd tried to stay longer," Raphael sighed.
"Oh, cool it, you. You were helping with DB's birthday. What's a grand prize worth compared to someone's happiness?"
"I still don't know why it couldn't have been Sands," Raphael rolled his eyes before setting a course back to Chile. Somewhere far enough away that Roo wouldn't be tempted to jump ship, the newest angel was freed from her bonds and the trio sailed out of sight.
Gilbert turned to Axel and had to stifle a grin at the other's dumbfounded look.
"Congrats. You've always had someone waiting for you and now you've got your very own Angel. Maybe she'll drum up more support for us."
"... Possibly," Axel managed to nod.
"Okay, you know what? This is seriously driving me insane. Someone had better get over here right now and get my eyes open or I'm going to get really annoyed. And I mean uber annoyed, do you get me? Fish Boy, Science Man, somebody get over here now, right now!" Spencer had had enough and was squirming frantically. Axel snorted in laughter before going to help the distressed Mr. Armacost. What a bizarre and amusing morning it was turning out to be.
Hahaga- Midmorning
--- Duke jumped up. The bats! They were back!
"No, you swine, go back! Get back!" Faster than the eye could follow, Duke had his flyswatter out and in attack position. The whistle of plastic through the air (were the frenzied shouts not enough to begin with) manage to startle Jack and Sands into full alertness. The rest of Hahaga—sans Mort—wasn't too far behind.
"Duke, what's wrong?" Fred tried to articulate through a yawn.
"It's the bats! They're going to steal my case and summon the giant lizards!" Duke wailed.
"Giant lizards?" Bon-bon mouthed, unsure as to just what kind of an opinion she should have on the matter. Sands managed to pause before he spoke.
"Duke... have you been into your case?"
"How dare you accuse me of turning to my case in times of great need!" Duke hissed.
"Y'know... Jeffrey... Sands... whatever your name is..." Mort tottered to the loose circle on rubbery legs. Waking up didn't seem to agree with him, but something nagged at the back of his brain. "I don't think he's been indulging. I don't think he'd see bats if he was."
While Hahaga was trying to come up with a suitable explanation for Duke's insanity, Duke was trying to swat at the evil bats for all he was worth. Gosh darn it, he did not spend half an hour each day swimming laps for no reason! Duke needed all the wiry strength he could muster. The occasional squeal of pain brought him slightly perverse pleasure, but there were just too many. He couldn't hold them all off!
"Duke! Duke! Come on, man, stop flailing! Calm down! You're gotta' take this! Just a quick swallow! Jeeze, I can't get close!" Fred snorted in disgust.
"Here, mate... HIC... ye may want t'be tryin' t'give 'im this," Jack thrust a bottle at Fred. Fred eyed the vessel, then the off-balance pirate. Grasping the container around the middle, he took a cautious whiff of the contents and groaned.
"Jack, you drank this bottle entire of rum, didn't you?"
"No I didn', mate! Look... there's still some left!" Jack grabbed for the former quart of Captain Morgan, overbalanced and toppled to the dirt. Several Johnnies managed to wince in sympathy, but Fred wouldn't have it.
"Jack, that's stealing-..."
"I prefer commandeering. Nautical term," Jack hicced.
"You still took it from Duke's stash without permission-..."
"Borrowed."
"and were we in England, I'd be forced to arrest you."
"Ye'd clap me in irons. Tha's what yer sayin', lad."
"Yes, Jack, that's what I'm saying. It's my job."
"'N it's my job t'make yer job impossible," Jack tried to slap Fred on the back and failed. "'M glad we could have this talk."
Duke chose that time to disrupt the warm and fuzzies. He leaped onto Fred's back and began to slap Abberline's head repeatedly with the swatter.
"Fly, you swine! Leave Abberline alone!"
"ACK! Duke, Duke, get off!"
It took the efforts of a disgruntled SJ to pry Duke off the Inspector. Neither came away unscathed: Duke bore Sands' fingerprints and Sands, a flyswatter grid mark across the forehead.
Duke had landed on the ground after the brief scuffle with Sands and wasn't too happy.
"I bet you voted for Humphrey!"
"And if I did?" Sands winced, rubbing his bruise. Duke scrambled to his feet, but not before Abberline turned to Bon-bon.
"Tackle him!"
"Excuse me?" Bon-bon looked .
"Tackle him!" Fred gestured at the thoroughly ticked off Duke. It wouldn't be long now, before he tore them to shreds.
"You must think I'm some cheap hussy! Bedding with any man that wanders across my path... despicable! I assure you... Inspector... that there is only one man for me! Even if he occasionally is a perverted Southern hick..." Bon-bon trailed off.
"Well, if you care for that man just a little bit-..." Fred snapped, but never managed to finish. Duke let out a rebel yell and leaped at SJ...
Inaga- Midmorning
--- Donnie tensed. "You hear something, Ichy?"
"Indeed," Ichabod frowned.
"Spencer?"
"No... not angry enough."
"Hm," Donnie's brows drew together, then he shrugged. "Oh well. Pass the fish bait, would you?"
Hahaga- Midmorning
--- It was a battle of epic proportions. SJ was at an obvious disadvantage, warding off both Duke, and the urge to throttle him. It was lucky for both of them that Mort thought of the solution.
Mort tapped Fred on the shoulder, "Pass the ether. I can stop them for a little while."
"I sure hope so," Fred murmured, eying the rolling ball of dust and limbs. The brown bottle was quickly uncapped and held at arm's length. Mort upended some of it in a cloth he'd pulled from his handy dandy pocket and handed the rest back to Fred.
"Hang onto this. We may need it later."
With that, he approached Sands and Duke. Tossing the wadded ball of cotton and ether into the melee, he backed away, hoping it worked. Slowly, the combatants' movements became clumsy and disoriented. Sands backed away and collapsed in the dirt, head slowly lolling back and forth. Duke... was in his element.
"I don't walk like that," Jack's nose wrinkled.
"Nobody said you did just... don't set him off, please!" Fred moaned.
Edward poked his head out from behind the tree, curious as to whether the noise was done. Seeing the ether walking Duke and the disoriented Sands was probably something of a shock, and Edward found himself hoping they hadn't sustained brain damage. He didn't think anybody fully recovered from an injury like that and it wasn't in Edward's nature to wish pain on others.
"Are they...?" he asked.
"Ether. Turns the mind to mush. Or so I understand. I read it somewhere," Mort shrugged.
"My hero!" Bon-bon cried, trying to give Mort a hug. Mort wasn't appreciative of this, and instead went to check on the incapacitated Duke and Sands.
"I know he loves me. He's just too shy to admit it," she told Edward pointedly and returned to the cool shelter before he could say otherwise.
Inaga- Night
--- "I'm bored," Spencer whined. His eyes had decided to come unstuck somewhere in the middle of the day, but it hadn't saved him from the embarrassment that comes from lying prostrate until you can see again. After all... if he'd walked into a tree, he was fairly sure he would have died before any of them could point and laugh. Just on principle.
"Why can't you entertain yourself?" Donnie asked.
"Because. It's dark and there's nothing to do except poke the fire." To emphasize his point, Spencer grabbed the poker stick and began to prod the logs. Gilbert raised a warning hand and shook his head. Spencer grumbled and put the poker down again.
"I could make grilled cheese if we had bread and cheese," Sam shrugged.
"That doesn't help a whole lot," Spencer admitted.
"We could investigate the noise from before," Ichabod pointed out. Donnie disagreed.
"I think it'd be better to let that go. It didn't sound friendly whatever it was."
"What then?" Spencer glanced bitterly in Donnie's direction.
"Sing along?"
"A sing along."
"Why not?"
"You aren't worried about your manly ego being bruised?"
"Spencer... we're in the woods bonding like men. Should it matter?"
"My brain says yes... but my heart says no... Is this a bad thing?"
"Nope, just natural."
"I see..." Spencer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 9 days in the bush was starting to show on Inaga, starting with the vaguest of 5 o'clock shadows.
"Anybody want to start?" Donnie asked. Ichy frowned while Sam looked thoughtful. Gilbert was the first with a small smile.
"Anybody hear of Harry Belafonte?"
"You know you humans all sound the same. Care to elaborate?" Spencer snorted.
Before Spencer could blink, Gilbert, one of the quietest members of Inaga aside from Sam, yelled. "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY-O! DAAAAAAYAYAY-O! Daylight come an' he wan' go home..."
Donnie cracked up, slowly lying down on his side to alleviate the pain. Axel was next, the giddiness of being a represented Johnny still fresh in his mind. Sam's head bowed, his curtain of hair covering a wide grin. Even Ichabod seemed to find it amusing. Spencer's look of utter horror made the remaining 4 laugh harder than before. Gilbert, to his credit, managed to keep singing.
"DAY! He say DAY, he say DAY, he say DAY, he say DAY, he say dayayay-o. Daylight come and he wan' go home..."
Donnie and Axel decided to help with the verse, being more familiar with the tune than the rest.
"Work all night on a drink a'rum!"
Sam got into the spirit, taking up background vocals, "Daylight come and he wan' go home..."
"Stack banana till thee morning come!"
Ichabod caught the infectious groove too. "Daylight come and he wan' go home!"
Everyone, save Spencer, seemed to know the chorus.
"Come, Mr. Tally Mon, tally me banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Come, Mr. Tally Mon, tally me banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
It's six foot, seven foot, eight foot, BUNCH!
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot, BUNCH!
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)."
Donnie nudged Spencer, trying to get him to open up. "It's no fun if everybody doesn't sing."
"You're all insane," Spencer muttered.
"DAY, he say dayayay-o
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
DAY, he say DAY, he say DAY, he say DAY, he say DAY, he say DAY
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)."
A round passed, and a second and Spencer was stubbornly refusing to take part. Something about the sing along seemed to turn him off to the entire male bonding experience. But Donnie wasn't going to take no for an answer. He scooted over next to Spencer and began poking him at an easy part to make him jump. Spencer would glare and sulk. Donnie would poke him again. Spencer would slap the hand away.
"You're going to sing. One way or the other," Donnie mouthed and returned to his happy campfire song with the rest of Inaga. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat in silence.
Hahaga- Morning
--- For once, Abberline was the first to rise. Sands was still passed out from his unexpected experience with ether and therefore, unfit to rise as early as he usually liked. So Fred got the rice and water ready for breakfast. He hoped that they'd win a reward challenge soon, the rice was getting annoying.
The smell began to rouse the rest of the team members, even Mort and Duke began to stir at leisure. Sands stayed oddly quiet, the calm rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was still among the land of the living.
Bon-bon hummed in pleasure, enjoying the bowlful of rice. Food was food; he wasn't picky. He'd most definitely had worse. And better yet, Mort wasn't awake enough to push her away! She had scooted as close to Mort as she dared, her knee barely brushed Mort's favorite bathrobe. Bliss!
Duke was subdued, but not zonked out. The ether had worn off and he was relaxed. Apparently, even journalists needed something to keep them sane. Or less insane as the case may be. Whatever it was that could explain Duke's freak out, Hahaga couldn't guess and had decided to keep it behind them. For now.
Fred had been elected to pick up the day's m-mail and it didn't take long for them to begin to puzzle the clue out. So to speak.
Today's work is based on smarts
Your team is ready for a riddle
Your whole must be greater than your parts
If you're wanting to ease the pain of your middle.
"Well, at least they dropped the subtlety," Mort grinned sleepily. Bon-bon brushed light fingers against Mort's thigh and felt his heart flutter in happiness. No rebukes yet!
"A riddle? I hate riddles," Jack grumbled.
"Don't worry, we're a clever team," Fred nodded.
"Uh... should we... uh... go and wake... uh... Sands?" Duke gestured at Sands' general direction. He was feeling slightly guilty for getting the other man exposed to the clothful of ether and sincerely hoped it hadn't had any adverse affects on the agent. That would have been more than a little disheartening for Hahaga.
"I was missing the silence," Fred glanced sideways at Duke, a slight pull to his lips.
"Oh that's real nice," Mort rolled his eyes. "Talk about the guy when he can't even defend himself. That's really righteous. If you'd just for a second talk to him, you'd know he wasn't entirely bad. He's just twisted... savvy?"
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, he's a jerk. He disrespects everyone-..."
"He's joking."
"... he's egotistic-..."
"Not overly so. It's amusing."
"... and he never shuts up."
"Would I be fair in saying the same thing about you?" Mort stared pointedly at Fred with calm eyes. Fred huffed, but said no more on the subject. It was Mort who took the initiative and went to go kneel by SJ. Bon-bon's heart deflated just a bit.
"Hey, Jeffrey. Wake up," Mort yawned as he prodded the agent. All he really knew about Sands' sleeping habits was that he was always up before Mort. The writer didn't know if he was jumpy or peaceful or anything, though it'd probably be a good guess that Sands would be just as dangerous asleep as he was awake. Sands, however, did nothing to prove this theory except roll over and groan.
"Jeffrey, come on. Sands. Do you answer to Sands?"
No luck. Mort was about to curse when he thought of a positively dirty trick.
"Shellllllllllllll-dun..." he murmured in SJ's ear. That just about did it. Sands snorted and tried to pull himself up to a sitting position.
"N-nnnn-NOT Sheldon! No!" Sands slurred, swinging for the blurry shape in front of him. Luckily for Mort that the punch was so feeble, that he was able to stop it with minimal effort.
"Okay, not Sheldon. No problem. Jeffrey better? Got a preference?"
"Sands..."
"Okay, fine, fine. Can you get up?"
"Kinda'... maybe..."
"Come on," Mort sighed and grasped Sands by the shoulder. "Heave!"
Mort's tugging combined with SJ's awkward motor skills almost managed to topple the both of them, but they managed to stay upright. A quiet command later and the two made a slow and painful path towards the rest of Hahaga.
"I think we know who's sitting this one out."
Inaga- Afternoon
--- There was a collective intake of breath as Inaga surveyed the partially crippled Hahaga. The majority surmised that Fred had finally gotten sick of Sands. Donnie and Ichy thought that he had been a party to the animal attack they'd heard yesterday. In retrospect, Donnie and Ichy's guess was the closest.
"Hahaga, it looks like you're having some difficulty," the host looked terribly confused.
"What was yer first clue, mate?" Jack quirked an eyebrow. Sands probably would have added something equally cutting, were he able.
"Well, since Hahaga has only one more team member than Inaga, it's probably safe to assume Sands will be sitting this one out, correct?"
"Correct," Fred nodded.
"Okay, Survivors, I will explain the challenge. You've all got 4 by 4 grid and 17 puzzle pieces. That's right, 17. We didn't miss multiplication tables in grade school; one piece doesn't fit with the puzzle. Your job is to figure out one piece that is and create the rest of the puzzle. Sounds easy, right?
"If you do manage to win first, your reward will add some flavor to your rice. You've got jerked meats. They'll last awhile if well preserved and they go well alone or with other foods. Ready? Survivors, to your marks!"
Mort carefully set Sands against a tree before taking a spot at the corner of a grid. It didn't sound like a hard task, but who really knew anymore? Inaga seemed to be the favorites this time around and Hahaga could only be expected to barely hang on.
"Survivors... go!"
The pieces, not being connected or needing to be slid on a board, were manipulated fairly easily. The pieces were piled on and the teams immediately set to work in getting them in order.
"No, it's this one, I'm positive!" Duke cried, tearing a piece out of place and fitting his own in. There was little strategy involved with Hahaga, where as Inaga was taking time to make sure everything fit.
"No... no... yes, that one!" Ichabod pointed quickly at Axel's hands. The piece was slid into place and the next one worked on. It wasn't fast, but it was effective. Somehow, Hahaga managed to gain a lead. Until it came time to decide the wrong piece.
The design was the customary green Hahaga field with the Survivor logo emblazoned in the middle. There was nothing extraordinary to it and the odd piece out looked exactly the same as another piece. The host wasn't calling time... were they supposed to tell him? Or was it really the wrong piece?
"Wait! It's not Wrap-a Nui! It's some kind of phonetic word play! It's this piece!" Mort called, swapping the two piece and smacking the table for emphasis.
"Hahaga! You've won your first reward challenge, congratulations!"
"Yes!" Fred cried. No more crappy rice! That was cause for celebration.
Hahaga- Night
--- "Hey guys, we've got dinner! Rice and beef!" Fred grinned. Sands managed to recover over the course of the afternoon and was in the process of relearning how to speak coherently.
"Bice 'n reef?"
"Uh, yeah! Let's eat guys."
It was a rowdy evening, with much fun and companionship over beef jerky. The fire burned bright and hot and there was again no need for spooning. Bon-bon slept uneasily that night.
Inaga- Morning
--- Gilbert yawned and managed to rise to a sitting position. It was still early yet, and most of Inaga was still asleep. He couldn't say why he'd woken early, only that he had and couldn't do anything about it. Following the idea that fish were best caught early, he decided to try and be useful and try for the meat they couldn't win. It hadn't been a bad effort, just not their best. They were still cooperating, which was more than could be said for Hahaga. Why else would one of their members be crippled like that?
It was sun up when Gilbert gave up. He'd caught 2 smallish fish, and they'd do well for one meal. No one could say he wasn't pulling his weight. He returned to camp to see Sam and Axel bent over the fire.
"Morning," Axel smiled. Gilbert nodded, holding up his catch. Sam's mouth twitched in the shadow of a smile. It wouldn't be a bad breakfast at all. Maybe it was the optimist talking, but at this point in the game, it was still far too early to complain.
"We're not out of the woods yet. Hahaga still out numbers us," Axel murmured around a mouthful of food. Strategy had to be thought of beforehand.
"Immunity doesn't hurt," Gilbert shook his head. Sam nodded in agreement.
"Whatever happens, the person most qualified has to lead. Nobody argues," Axel continued. Maybe he thought he was giving a pep talk.
"Of course," Gilbert cocked his head. Why was Axel nervous? Was he concerned that he might be the next person voted off?
"Maybe if we win, we can get Spencer to sing about bananas," Axel grinned slyly.
"Doubt it," Gilbert snorted.
"What's this about bananas?" Spencer sat down cross legged across from Axel, a lazy smirk on his face.
"Oh, we were betting on whether or not you'd sing the banana song if we won. I bet that you were too chicken. You can't sing," Axel waved his hand airily.
"You're just saying that so my ego will bruise and I'll be hurt. Fat chance," Spencer rolled his eyes.
"I rather thought it was a good chance."
"I'm not that predictable."
"No, you're not."
"Right."
"You sure showed me."
"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Okay, okay, fine, I'll sing," Spencer shuddered, unable to cope with the mental play. Axel laughed.
"I'm holding you to that."
"I know," Spencer groaned.
Hahaga- Noon
--- Sands woke up on his own and was ready to confront Duke.
"What exactly was in that ether?"
"Uh... ether?"
"Yes, yes, besides that. I'm fairly strong willed or at least I like to think so. What just made me babble like an idiot for a whole day?"
"Ether."
Sands sighed, "You're trying my patience. I've got very little right now and I'd like to keep what little sanity I've got left. How concentrated is it?"
"Well... when you've developed a tolerance for the stuff-..."
"Oh... my... stars..." Sands exhaled. "That... was a trip and then some. Are you trying to kill me?"
"Not you specifically. Or anybody for that matter. I don't recommend my lifestyle to just any person."
"Then for my sake, if not your own... please indulge in that stuff in private. Please..." SJ pleaded. He didn't like things that put him out of his mind for extended periods of time. That meant very bad things were going to go down when he wasn't in control. He despised a lack of control. Not to mention how sad he must have looked with drool running down his chin. He knew; he'd felt it this morning.
"We're back to haikus again," Mort groaned.
Wandering aimless
You need a guide to help you
Find what you seek now
"Guide? This sounds... entertaining... to say the least..." Fred smirked.
"I'll be Mort's guide..." Bon-bon offered shyly. If he didn't like her coming on strong, perhaps the coy approach would work.
"I don't think it works quite like that," Mort refused to show emotion. Bon-bon slumped. Curse this stubborn man! Why did the hunt have to be so fun, and yet so hurtful?
"I think we have to go," Edward spoke up, pointing at the sun above. It wouldn't due to be late for one's own challenge.
"Yes... we must be prepared," Duke nodded. Sands cringed and stood up. He was still slightly unsteady on his legs, but he'd be okay. For now.
Inaga- Afternoon
--- The two teams were on their respective mats, waiting for the host to appear. He wasn't late so much as they were early.
"Survivors, eager are we?"
"Sure!" Spencer called. Awkward silences weren't fun, but filling them is was.
"Well, another cryptic clue for the lot of you. Did you figure it out?"
"Giraffes," he nodded.
"Of, course, Inaga, what else could it possibly have?" the host laughed. "Well, in this case, your guide is going to stand on top of a pole and direct the lot of you in the picking up of different flags along the way. Naturally, the runners will be blindfolded, thus making the challenge interesting. Immunity is up for grabs again. Inaga, who will be your guide?"
There was some shuffling in the dirt until Spencer came to the rescue again.
"I'd like to nominate General Brasco."
Donnie was dumbfounded, but didn't question. That would have been stupid. Instead, he shrugged and nodded.
"Hahaga? Who is sitting out, and who is guiding?"
Mort prodded Sands, a silent question about his physical wellness.
"Yeah, I'm... peachy," Sands nodded.
"Hahaga?"
"I'll sit out... I haven't yet," Jack shrugged.
"I'll guide if nobody else will," Fred replied.
"All right teams, get your blindfolds on. Guides, up top."
The preparatory minutes before the challenge were tense. The blindfolds were getting to a few of the Survivors.
"Ugh... I feel like a blind man," Sands moaned.
"Space is dark, but not this dark," Spencer shuddered.
"Survivors ready? Go!"
"Guys, fan out! Mort and Edward to the left, Duke, straight! Bon-bon and Sands to the right! Duke, straight! Straight!"
"I am straight!"
"No, Duke, go more right, go more right!"
Duke toppled over a rock and lay sprawled in the dirt. Okay, maybe he hadn't been straight, but that was still a rotten trick.
"Sam straight, straight, float right... straight... you got it! Ichy! Your left, left, left, left, stop! Stay put! Gilbert, stop! Turn around, go left!"
It was an even match. No one tribe would hold the lead for more than a minute before someone else picked up a flag and returned it. Fred and Donnie were both hoarse and getting worse.
"Edward! Stop! Ease left! Ease... stop! Forward..."
"Spencer, it's right in front of you! Right in front of you!"
Edward's long scissors brushed against a flag pole. Careful not to slice it in half, he half ran, half carried the pole in his hands. The wrong way, of course.
"No, Edward follow my voice! Follow my voice! Your right!" Fred coughed.
"Spencer, reach!"
Edward was walking stiffly, the leather not the most advantageous of clothing right then. His leg didn't lift high enough. He stumbled over a log. Dropped the flag on top of the others.
"Hahaga! Hahaga, come back to the box! Back to the box! Listen for my voice!" Fred shouts became frenzied, insane. But Hahaga heard and came.
"Hahaga wins immunity!"
