Author's Notes: Hello and Happy New Year everyone!
Apologies for making you dear readers wait so long between updates once again but as with last chapter there have been some difficulties in relation to edits as well as life in general being problematic, on top of this having been one of if not THE most difficult chapters to write simply due to its unique nature. Hopefully things will calm down in the near future and pave the way for quicker updates, but until then you'll just have to wait patiently.
One last important note, the start of this chapter might be a little jarring...okay it might be VERY jarring, but I promise that there is a reason for it, but please bear with it. I promise that this is indeed Unbreakable Red Silken Thread and not some accidental update of a wrong chapter for another story. Everything will make sense and more than likely after you finish reading it you'll go through and read it a second time to try and pick up all the little clues and hints and Easter eggs ;)
Having said that, let's move on to the twenty-fifth chapter of "Unbreakable Red Silken Thread": Chance: The House Always Wins
Having slipped in unseen amid the pandemonium outside, the two men quickly made their way through the large office building knowing full well what they had to do. The crisp staccato of machinegun fire hammering against the thunderous din of explosions, howls of shock, shouts of alarm and many profanities joining the chorus of this wartime opera offered only hints as to what was happening to their well trained ears.
The first of the pair, a towering black skinned brick house of a man who carried what looked like an enormous riot shield on his back paused to take in his surroundings. Jack of Hearts, as his friends called him, usually wasn't this nervous even if he was routinely teased for being overly cautious. In his defense, there were a few reasons for his heightened sense of unease, this time around at least. His companion was a smaller (though still fairly well built) Caucasian with a katana strapped to his back and an SMG in each hand. Joker winced, his ears ringing as they endured the deluge of profanities stabbing his brain from his earpiece.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the legendary King of Diamonds was not happy.
At all.
"Keep your shorts on," Joker finally said as much to himself as the others, "Geez, you guys worry too much. You know that?"
"*You're not the one being used as bait!*" King shot back, still royally pissed at the situation and more than a little irritated at a certain team clown.
"*Gosh!*" Another person chimed in after ten solid minutes of nonstop back and forth 'bickering and bitching' as he put it. Ace of Clubs took advantage of the opening to speak up. "*At least you get to see some sweet action and don't have to drive a glorified school bus!*"
King, still whipped up into a froth continued cursing Joker out for a few moments before regaining himself. "*This is a terrible idea. A moronically, awful idea,*" he said, doing his best and mostly succeeding at mimicking the narrator of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. "*If I die, my immortal soul is going to devote all of eternity to haunting your ass!*"
"A low-grade Paranormal Activity knockoff doesn't exactly make me shiver in my boots after all the crap CMC put us through," Joker replied just as sarcastically as before. "Stop being such a drama queen and just grow a pair already."
King paused for a moment as the reason for his earlier tirade came to mind. "*Speaking of queens, where is Spades? This entire operation was dependent on her providing cover support.*" The edge to his question was impossible to miss, but there was also an underlying note of concern and curiosity.
"She had other things to take care of," Joker said cryptically, suddenly losing all of his earlier ire.
That instantly caught King's attention. "*What could possibly be more important than this?*" he asked.
"If you really want to know, you could always ask her yourself?" Joker all but dared, his voice lighter with a chuckle punctuating his words.
There was a brief beat.
"Uh uh," Jack said flatly.
"Ditto," Ace repeated in just as crisp a cadence.
"I know better than to push the 'Full Metal Bitch.'" King replied deadpan.
Pleased at winning their little verbal bout, Joker kicked down a nearby door with a small smirking grin.
A smirking grin that wilted a little when he saw the hallway between them and their next waypoint was filled with a horde of zombies. "Jack, you're up, buddy!" he shouted before boldly ducking behind the larger man. Jack nodded.
The human bulwark deployed his massive collapsible shield before breaking into a Juggernaut charge, shoving and outright steamrolling the legions of reanimated dead while Joker dropped a few frag grenades behind them to kill the stunned brain eaters. Switching places, Jack made sure nobody and nothing was still moving while his companion hacked the electronic security lock. Even though it would have been easy to break it down, that would have set off alarms, gave away their location, and denied them a simple but effective advantage.
Closing and relocking the door, Joker took a moment to change the passkey code and rig a few nasty surprises for anyone who might be following them. A claymore might not have been as personal as he preferred, but they were cheap, effective, and warned you when company was on the way.
Making their way through a maze of cubicles they soon reached a conference boardroom with large windows illuminating the area with soft, natural light. Pausing to check their supplies Joker and Jack got a radio chirp from King. "*We might need to change our game plan,*" he informed calmly.
"Why?" Joker asked in confusion. So far everything had been going perfectly without a hitch, at least excluding the zombies.
The answer came when a crimson jet flew past the window only inches from the glass, shards of clear crystal being loosened with spider webs cracking and splintering across their surface. Three more followed suit, pursuing it like starved hounds chasing after a T-bone steak.
"That's why," commented King, raising his voice just enough to be heard over several beeping, chirping, and screaming alarms.
Joker started cursing, unleashing a spontaneous display of disaffection with the profane and poetic repertoire usually reserved for rappers and comedians.
"The Queen's be'n rubbin' off on ya, dude." Jack stated with a frown.
Mouth matching his compatriot's downward curve, he sighed. "Need I remind you that we are fighting for more than just our lives? We're a person short. We're basically running blind. We've got no spotter, no support, and we are outnumbered at least a dozen to one not counting the surprise zombies! I hope your Mama taught you how to forgive someone for being justifiably miffed given the circumstances!?"
Jack was silent for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Dude, what's up with ya? You've been snappy all day. Is somethin' up?" he asked, his voice sounding more concerned than irradiated.
That made Joker feel even more like crap. "Yeah, I guess I have been," he admitted. "It's just—"
"*I'm sorry,*" King cut in, "*but I'm having a hard time thinking of the plan that will save our skins with your jibber-jabber! Shut up and let me think. I need to concentrate.*"
"*What's the issue?*" Joker's voice filled King's cockpit. Looking over his shoulder, he saw more than a dozen bogies now tailing him as he ducked and weaved through the city, around the buildings and under any low bridges he happened across. Sweat started to form across his tan skinned brow as more and more detection alarms, lock on warnings and proximity alerts sounded.
'Seriously,' he said in his skull, doing an abrupt barrel roll with a flourish of explosions illuminating the reflective armored skin of his craft, 'not a one of them has had the common courtesy to crash! Urgg…this is a marginally bad thing.'
He didn't give voice to that however, none had managed to land a hit so far but they were getting closer. "I'm having a little trouble with the angry local natives," jinking to avoid a burst of Vulcan cannon fire he added, "I can't shake them off my ass."
"*You should be careful, otherwise Em might get jealous,*" Joker chimed playfully sarcastic.
King bit back his reply as he banked hard to cut a sharp turn around a nearby skyscraper, before pulling the air break, diving, then banking back in the opposite direction as he floored the afterburners.
Despite his perfect timing, the growing swarm of enemies was still hot on his tail, undaunted. His frustration at being the bait for this venture reared its ugly head again; he was supposed to have ground support, not put on a one-man airshow. Several flashing warning lights diverted his attention away from these spiteful musings and back to the present. The alarms were pinging and he knew they couldn't be on the fritz but he didn't see anything, at least not at first. Scanning the optical canopy of his cockpit he barely caught sight of them, as well as the large number of arrows coming at him from every direction save one.
His epiphany in that moment was as scolding as it was crystal clear. King muttered a curse, and almost a simple statement. "I've fallen into a tr—" he began, before abruptly stopping himself.
King heard the excited puff of air taken on the other end of the radio. Suddenly, a terror surpassing the fear of his own survival grew and sprang forth with a vengeance. "I swear to entirety of the Hindu pantheon, if you dare utter the Ackbar quote, I will ram this jet right up your ass!" he snapped. Even the ensuing defeated moan failed to alleviate him of his current state. "If you blow this," he continued as his tone grew more serious, "it's on you. ALL YOU. This was your plan."
"*Thank you for stating the obvious,*" Joker quipped. "*But I'm still not worried.*"
Not making his lack of confidence in Joker's confidence known, or the fact that he had overheard the earlier outburst between him and Jack, King pulled back on his flight stick, ascending higher into the sky even though he knew it was exactly where they were trying to force him.
Hitting the full afterburners to put as much distance between him and the ground as possible, he saw many of the missiles now rapidly approach his position. Time, and more importantly, timing was of the essence; he deployed several flares and chaft hoping they would lure the missiles away to buy him more time. It was a trick he had done countless times; he could have done it with his eyes closed, exactly as he just did.
"*Gosh!*" Ace called out over the radio, "*Stop playing with your food and just kill them already! Some of us have more important things to do, and I wanna wrap this up today!*"
King groaned, the smile that never felt quite right on his face was destroyed by Ace's words. "Don't be a party pooper, man. That's my job. And I was finally having some fun for a change. It's been ages since I actually had a challenge like this."
"*This is just the beginning!*" Ace fired back. "*It's only gonna get more difficult from here. Don't waste time and resources when you're just doing RECON and not making a move.*"
King smirked, knowing there was only one reason for the larger man to say such a thing. They might not have maintained radio silence, but they had been careful with what they been saying just in case someone was listening in. For Ace to blatantly state that he was not in fact the distraction meant he was close to their objective, close enough to begin phase three.
"Are you suggesting that we tip our hand this early in the game?"
"*We aren't using our good stuff,*" Ace reminded before adding, "*besides, dead men tell no tales.*"
Shrugging, King pulled back another lever in the cockpit, lamenting the killing stroke.
Outside, to King's long dulled sense of wonderment, an instantaneous metamorphosis occurred. A series of previously invisible lines split along the aircraft as the wings folded back, and then up, simultaneously as the twin engines moved back, the fuselage split, followed by the nose and cockpit flipping up onto the back of the aircraft before sliding through the now opened hole in the center. The wings then folded back down, then out as the previously white thrust exhaust turned blood red.
The transformation was complete, and in place of a sleek futuristic jet there now was a giant flying mech.
Leaning down, the now transformed vehicle dove towards the missiles rapidly approaching it. Newly revealed mechanical hands grabbed two of the explosive projectiles, and after spinning a few times to build momentum, the robot hurled them back at the incoming planes like a pair of grenades. Twin explosions illumined the sky, and the bombardment of random wreckage from the destroyed aircraft fired outward in all directions, setting off a chain reaction of twisted steel and black smoke.
Folding the wings back, King falcon dived towards the remaining planes, his face a mask of serenity as his hands gripped the yoke tighter, depressing the pressure sensitive controls. Two slots atop the forearms opened up, revealing three Gatling guns from each one.
Pushing down on the pair of buttons resting on the thumb grooves, salvos of ammunition erupted, shredded most of the lingering aircraft into destroyed debris as though a sword sheering wet paper. Only two airplanes remained now, the survivors circled around, preparing to make another pass.
King smirked at this, not sure whether to admire or pity the storm trooper logic on display. "Sure, this guy took out all of my friends, with the same equipment and tactics, but I've got a good feeling about this!" He said to himself before adding, "It's too late." He flicked a single switch along the canopy, firing a projectile from the back towards the pursuers.
The pair broke, then reformed, ignoring what they thought had been a desperate but failed attempt at shaking them, at least until a moment later when their own alarms sounded.
From the single canister shaped object that was now behind them came what could only be called a deluge of miniature missiles, dozens upon dozens of them, some coming from below others from above and more from the sides, like a massive pair of hands with seemingly infinite fingers reaching for their prey.
Only seconds later they hit their mark, and the two were no more.
Still in his falcon dive, King asked his compatriots, "Joker, Jack…what floor you on?"
"*Floor thirty-five,*" Joker answered. "*Why do you ask?*"
"I'm gonna come by and give you a lift." King commented, before he noticed something. The wreckage of one of the aircraft still descending, more specifically one of the wings. "Actually, it's gonna take me a little while to reach you, I've got an idea, a wonderful, awful idea." With that King angled his transformed vehicle next to the rapidly pummeling wing.
"What does that mean?" Jack asked.
"The hell if I know," Joker responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I'm sure it's something essential and with a seriousness befitting the situation."
King's robot continued its comet-like descent through the stratosphere towards the planet's surface, riding the severed plane wing like a surfboard. Inside the cockpit, King was grinning like a fool. "Kitty, I gotta admit you had a good idea!"
Joker proceeded to carve his way through the undead horde with his katana while Jack used his shield to keep them stunned or down long enough for the killing blow of the blade. But just as was the case from the movies that spawned their depiction, no matter how many they killed, the horde continued to grow regardless.
"Hey," Jack commented, "I've something on my motion sensor. Something moving fast."
"Can you be a little more specific?" Joker asked while cleaving in half one of the undead then beheading another.
"Nope. It's gone." There was a second's pause. "Never mind it's back…and behind us!"
Joker turned but saw nothing.
Only for some nut wearing nothing but blue body paint and armed with a trench knife to drop from the air vents onto him.
'Oh, great, a Wildman,' Joker thought as he struggled to keep the brightly colored wacko with violent rage but amazing self-confidence from gutting him like a fish. The frantic stabs of the knife were performed with a surprising strength that Joker hadn't anticipated. "Hey, Jack ol' Boy," Joker commented belabored as he dodged the blade's cold steel, "Any time you want to stop Braveheart here from drawing and quartering me would be great!"
Jack of Hearts turned, and within a moment started running towards his besieged partner. A single strike to the back of the Wildman's head with his shield stunned the attacker while the shield bearer offered an apology. Joker took advantage of the attackers pause by rolling to the side and beheading the buck-naked sociopath with a single katana strike.
Casting a glance at the trench knife, Joker took it and slipped it into his belt, only to hear a number of guns cocking.
Looking up as he rose, he saw five armed individuals who more or less were in army or heavy SWAT gear before him. Out the corner of his vision, he also noticed Jack motioning behind them. Joker turned to see a large number of zombies behind them.
One of the armed individuals stepped forward and asked, "Do you want to be full of bullet holes, or covered in teeth marks? Your choice!"
Before Joker could offer any comments, a massive pulse surged from underneath the floor. The building seemed to shudder and undulate as though an earthquake struck from within the structure itself. Following this were a series of loud, heavy bangs, explosions and groaning metal.
Within a few moments the seismic activity seemed to cease, leaving everyone dazed. Even the undead seemed fazed by the occurrence. Then, it got dark, completely dark as again the groaning of metal followed an aftershock. What made it so strange was how not only the lights went out, but even the windows failed to produce any illumination.
The radios of both Joker and Jack came to life as a single word crackled to their ears.
"*Duck.*"
The two hit the ground immediately; right before a volcanic torrent of machine gun fire erupt. Gigantic soda can size salvos of bullets tore up chunks of reinforced floor and wall like tissue paper. The air was dominated by the clattering of the colossal rounds and the adjoined explosions revealing their nature and fury. Both armored foe and unprotected zombie were reduced to bloody pulp and mist in a matter of seconds; the damaged floor littered with little more than bullet casings and bloody smears.
When the gunfire finally stopped, several blinding floodlights suddenly illuminated the pitch-black room from behind, casting everything in stark shadow and wrathful white. Joker and Jack turned to see their source, the torso of a giant robot with several ports on the chest opened to reveal numerous mini-guns, all the barrels smoking along with a pair of arrester lines.
"What exactly are you dipshits waiting for," The voice of King spoke with thunderous aplomb over a loudspeaker, "a rolled out red carpet and a written invitation? Or would you prefer that another legion of our enemies come to greet you personally?"
Joker didn't answer, instead reaching to his radio and contacting another member of their team. "Ace, is it ready yet?"
There was a muttered grumble from the radio's other end, "*Yeah, it's ready, I found it right where you said it'd be. I'm already out of the parking deck, but moving it was a preposterously problematic pain in the posterior.*"
"Think you're piling on the alliteration a bit too thickly, buddy?" Joker asked amused smirk growing as without waiting for an answer and ignoring the backlash of that comment, Joker attached himself to the mech alongside Jack.
King then threw in his two cents, "Are you sure you got the right one, Ace? Not a similar one but the real McCoy?"
"*Gosh!*" Ace snapped, finding a new target for his frustration, "*I made that mistake one time! Besides, anyone could have made it!*"
Letting the conversation end there, King noticed that his two teammates were in their harnesses, so he pushed off the side of the building and used the vertical thrusters to slowly descend to the ground where Ace was waiting for them.
Sure enough, what Ace had acquired wasn't much to look it. Before the trio was what appeared to be a massive tank twice the length of a city bus and four times as wide. The old and beaten up thing looked more like it belonged in a junkyard than on a battlefield.
King's mech kneeled, allowing Joker and Jack to repel to the ground. "*Not to be a broken record,*" the mech's driver began, his voice already prepared for irate verbal ramification, "*but did you triple check? Are you sure this is the right one?*"
While Ace got defensive about this, Jack inspected the reason they were all here with equal parts curiosity and confusion. As he did so, Joker asked, "Why is King so interested in this tank model exactly? I've never even seen it before."
"*You've never seen it before because its old and it was never that popular to begin with,*" King explained. "*On top of that it's quite rare, not many were built. And as to why I'm so interested in it, I'll tell you back at the base, Joker.*"
Several explosions nearby interrupted any further conversation. "*Come on, we are out of time,*" King commented. Several planes flew overhead. "*We need to go now.*"
"What are we supposed to do?" asked Joker. They had gone over their individual parts to play in the plan, but extraction had been something their fearless leader kept a tight lip on.
"*Get to the docks,*" King answered as his mech started powering up, "*By any means necessary.*" As if to punctuate King's words, they heard loud whistling following distant explosions.
Ace, Joker and Jack climbed into the massive behemoth as mortar shells rocked the ground around them, raining down like the fists of an angry god. The trio rushed to the cab up front, jostled from the ramifications of King's orders by the situation at hand. Joker and Ace swore like sailors, while Jack started crying and loudly proclaiming they were going to die.
Climbing into the driver's seat, Ace fired their ride up and eight gouts of black smoke bellowed out from the tank's exhaust as it lurched forward, rocked by more artillery fire.
Joker tapped his earpiece. "King, get your ass out there and do something about this artillery fire!"
"*Gee, I never would have thought of that!*" King snapped, struggling to be heard over the sounds erupting in the background. "*What do you think I've been trying to do!? These emplacements are proving to be a problem!*"
"Ya don't say?" Joker quipped as another shell shook the tank, causing it to shift and groan. Both Jack and Joker fell to the floor, but it was only then that Joker noticed the cabin had only one other seat aside from that of the driver. Judging by the equipment surrounding it, he figured it was meant for a navigator…but from what King told them before it was meant for three.
With that in mind, he pushed Jack into the empty seat, since the shield wielder was there resident tracker as well as medic it was for the best to keep him out of the way.
Sitting in the seat, Jack was surrounded by holographic maps showing glowing circles and triangles of different colors, many with lines all arcing up then down to a single moving spot in the center of the map. After studying the graphs for a few moments, Jack said, "I think we are the moving dot here." Joker nodded in agreement, as he gestured to a few other dots with arcing lines. "And they must be the emplacements shooting at us."
After taking out his PDA and plugging it into a docking port, Joker downloaded information from the tank to it, and then sent it to their cover in the sky. "King, the data I'm sending you will show you where they're firing from." He noticed a new detail then and slid his thumb over the screen. The schematics of the tank detailed a surprisingly long list of armaments, almost all of which were currently empty.
Almost, but not entirely.
His eyes widened, before he ran from the cab into the tank, leaving a confused Jack and Ace to yell behind him.
Running by a series of doors down the tank's interior length, Joker stopped when he saw the one he wanted. While ducking into it, he tripped into the pitch-black room as they were swung by another shell. Scrambling back to his feet, and after fumbling in the dark for a few moments that thankfully no one could have seen, he found the light switch, which also powered up the equipment in the room, several computers and screens. Plugged his PDA into one he started to hack the systems only to find no firewall or security in place, literally the first thing that appeared was a 'Create Admin user' screen.
'King wasn't joking when he said it wasn't popular,' he thought to himself. Running through the bare minimum he had to in order to get what they needed, he started up several key programs.
From the outside, along the back of the tank numerous round hatches opened to reveal several dozen missiles, which fired on the previously targeted artillery emplacements.
Back inside, Joker climbed into a seat suspended inside what looked like a pneumatically controlled gyroscope. As soon as he was strapped into the seat via a harness, a holographic screen, 360 by 360 imaging surrounded him.
Two compartments in the center of the tank opened, one on each side, revealing a pair of swiveling quad barrel guns.
Joker moved the seat around until he saw several APC's following after them, along with a handful of motorcycles and armored jeeps. In each of his hands was a joystick that he experimented with, and it didn't take him very long to figure out that each independently controlled a separate gun, left to the left and right to the right. Sure enough when he moved them, a pair of targeting recitals appeared on screen.
Targeting a pair of armored jeeps, he pulled the triggers…but nothing happened. 'Where's the kaboom? There was supposed to be a jeep-shattering kaboom!' he thought in a panic. Then he had another idea. Joker squeezed the triggers again, holding them down as he realized they must be the kind that winded up first, like a chain gun.
The two quad barrel guns began glowing a savage crimson before unleashing hell. Arcs of lightning surged from the barrels, unleashing millions of volts worth of electricity through them before detonating the fuel lines and sending them up in a shower of sparking debris.
Joker's pleased smile turned downward as the illumined room suddenly went dark. Further confirmation of something being wrong came when the tank ceased moving.
"*Joker!*" Ace called over the radio, "*Whatever you're doing, cut it out! You just drained the batteries to almost nothing!*"
"What the hell kind of tank only has enough power for a single shot, anyways?" Joker asked nastily into his earpiece.
"*Gosh! It was already runnin' on fumes when I stole it. Don't use the Tesla guns!*"
Grumbling as he did so, Joker attempted to scroll through the other weapon options he had to work with. The seemingly mundane task was made more difficult thanks to the constant jostling and shaking from the impacts of the countless shells smashing the area. He finally stopped trying when he realized how futile an effort reading anything would be.
"How much can this thing take?" he asked Ace, not exactly keen on finding out but needing something to focus on.
"*Plenty,*" was the surprised reply. "*This thing's built like a bank vault. It's just low on power.*"
Hearing that, Joker reluctantly powered down the Tesla cannons before plugging his PDA into the port in his arm.
Trying to read anything on a handheld screen might have been impossible, but that didn't mean there wasn't another way, and he smirked as a pair of shaded lenses flipped over to cover his eyes.
Sure enough, he had little if any trouble reading now, and with more vigor, he searched through the various systems and armaments to see what they had to work with.
He didn't get further than the first menu of options before the entire tank was rocked hard and brought to a complete stop by a massive impact. "What was that?" Joker asked into the radio. "What's going—WHOA!?" Another lurching motion cut off his question, as the tank moved upward. Something was wrong, very wrong. Moving his seat around, he saw a large mech had managed to pick them up, holding the front half of the vehicle off the ground in its hands.
Without any traction or ground under the treads they couldn't move, and thanks to him using most of its remaining power they had no weapons. He cursed quite vividly as this realization formulated within his mind, and the others joined his efforts with gusto. The litany of profanities only became more pronounced as all those in the tank noticed that a giant cannon mounted on the mech's back had moved onto the shoulder and was pointing down at them.
The muzzle began glowing a light menacing blue as the cannon began to charge, raw power and electricity surging and building within its oversized capacitors.
Trapped like rats, the terrified trio knew this meant that in mere moments they were going to take a point-blank blast from a weapon that could level an entire city block. It didn't matter how much of a beating the machine could take, there were some things you just couldn't walk away from.
Joker thought of this as the end of the line, yet amid his reluctant acceptance of the end he noticed something else, a faint distortion behind their would-be destroyer.
A static jolt from the charging cannon revealed a ripple of dust and light.
There was a sudden surge of intense heat on the tank's sensors, followed by a ground-shaking crash as the cannon fell clean off the mech's shoulder, and less than a second later the mech itself followed!
Split in half down the center, the newly bisected pieces exploded before reaching the gound while tank was dropped and collided with the street below, its contents shaken but otherwise unharmed.
Terror and fatalism replaced with confusion as to their unexpected salvation.
The force of the crash kicked up a storm cloud of dust, crumbled street, and mechanical parts. Within the building sized mushroom of debris, the distortion manifested again, resembling heat haze, rippling and churning as if viewed through boiling water, suggesting the crude outline of a man standing still at the center of the minor chaos.
Like some sort of photographic special effects in a 3-D movie, a spectral figure began to take shape, as if transitioning into reality, from an intangible blur to solid fierce reality. The brief flickers of bright blue sparks snaking along the increasingly visible form made it clear to the trio that the distortion had been a mech cloaking itself, especially with it now standing before them in plain sight.
The freshly decloaked machine stood before them, bright red and rather bulky, with thick arms, legs and a massive central pod it would have looked comical were it not for a few of the more eye-catching details, namely its right arm.
Or rather the giant flaming chainsaw attached to its right arm.
King, Ace, Jack, and Joker breathed a sigh of relief at hearing a familiar feminine voice over the radio laughing. "*What are ya doing in that old piece of crap, guys?*"
King cut in, asking with obvious surprise in his voice, "*When did you show up?*"
"*Oh, Wildcard was here the whole time. Just waiting and watching unseen, like God, or a lowly pervert in a tree outside a sexy lady's bedroom window, till Wildcard got bored,*" she said casually, her voice the equivalent of a dismissive hand wave.
There was a brief pause. "*And Wildcard didn't intervene to save the others earlier because…?*" King asked, his voice pitched, holding back rage.
"*Wildcard wanted to see if any of those shells could hit you hard enough and fast enough to penetrate your armor, and get inside to all of your sweet, sweet man flesh!*"
"*What the hell, woman!?*" King snapped, venting his anger.
"*Aw, come on, Kingie Beanie! Wildcard wanted to give you guys a chance to save yourselves. It's no fun if Wildcard just comes in and saves you all the time!*"
"*Please don't make a habit of that.*"
"*No promises!*"
There was a brief silence as everyone reluctantly accepted their manic teammates' decree. They all knew they should have been used to it by now, but they weren't.
"*Alright everyone! It…is…show time!*" Ace said, breaking the silent prayer for their well being going forward, with a graveling voice, trying, poorly, to sound like Solid Snake.
"*Showtime, uh? Then I guess I better perform!*" Wildcard said gleefully.
There was a harsh intake of air over the radio. "*Uggg…mother of God.*" King stated, groaning, his voice thick with annoyance. "*If you guys are done, we've gotta move to the docks. We have a lot of things to do, and considerably less time to do them in.*" He paused. "*And no jokes about 'doing things,' Wildcard!*"
Wildcard grumbled in disappointment. "*Fine.*" There was a brief pause. "*But on the way can we…?*"
"*No.*"
"*Aw come on!*" She whined. "*There are so many little blips on the radar Wildcard wants to go shake hands with!*"
"*Uh, you have a chainsword in your hand?*"
"*Very enthusiastic handshakes!*"
The mech's chain-sword retracted before the arm reached up to the shoulder where six more hung from one side like a partial cape of chainsaws, a partial cape that enclosed around the large wrist, followed by said arm throwing back so as to flick the six chainsaws down and extend out, revving to life!
King's crimson machine stood at the docks, one could almost visualize it tapping a mechanical foot on the crumbling timbers with impatience from the way it stood with its arms crossed.
He had been waiting for what felt eons for the rest of his team to arrive. After how long it took to convince Wildcard to not 'greet' every enemy on radar, he was running low on tolerance for his wacky teammate's usual antics. He wanted to move on. "*What the hell is taking you guys so long!?*" he snapped into his radio. Sure it was a tank and tanks were slow, but not THIS slow.
A few moments later, the answer became obvious and King slapped his forehead within the cockpit. How else could he react to the sight of Wildcard's machine riding the tank like a giant surfboard?
The not so subtle hint that she had seen his earlier antics was not lost on him.
"*Onward, noble stead! To victory, honor, and enthusiastic handshakes for all!*" Wildcard cheered with the gusto of a zealous sports fan cheering their favorite team atop the vehicle laboring at a snail pace, seemingly on its last leg from the strenuous effort. The chainsaw packing mech waited until the tank was right in front of King's before leaping off, with a theatrical flourish, spinning once or twice in the air before a prefect landing.
Wildcard felt King's questioning and wrathful glare, and gave voice to his inquiries. "*What? You gonna get on Wildcard's case when you went all Dr. Strangelove earlier?*"
King said nothing, knowing that he had no leg to stand on. Instead of responding and playing into her hands he typed out a series of commands on his PDA. In response, a massive leviathan of a vessel emerged from under the formerly calm waters, shaped like a massive flying wing yet strangely alien compared to the other machines. The back end facing them then opened up to reveal a large hanger.
"*Wildcard,*" King began, "*Help me carry the others over. I don't know if that thing is waterproof…yet, anyways.*"
The mistress of the red mech blew a raspberry before getting up and helping in carrying the large tank onto the newly arrived means of transportation.
The moment they were inside, the doors closed behind them, momentarily encasing the group in complete darkness until the interior lights came to life. Now in safety, the group emerged from their respective vehicles and made their way to a large open elevator, piling in and riding it upward as a group.
Joker looked around, the darkened lenses covering his eyes flicking back into their ports. Without the chaos of combat occupying his attention, he was able to look at the rest of his team, King, Ace and Wildcard.
The first was a thin young man in his mid-thirties that appeared to be of Indian descent. His hair was a short mullet and he wore what looked like a red pilot's suit with gold accents, though a large portion of his face was hidden behind a pair of Ray ban sunglasses. He was busy, looking through his PDA, ignoring the others. Even if Joker hadn't known him, the golden diamond emblazed across his shoulders made it obvious who he was.
Next, taking up almost half the space inside the elevator there was an extremely buff though pale skinned man who appeared to be in his mid to late forties wearing combat fatigues. A beret hid his hair, but Joker knew it to be bright red and in a short buzz cut. Though the style couldn't have been known without prior knowledge, the color was easily enough to determine thanks to his equally red giant muttonchops and mustache-goatee combo. Tattooed on his shoulder was a large black three-leaf clover.
Last but not least, there was Wildcard, who had shoulder length flaming red hair and light tan skin with emerald green eyes. She was wearing a pair of cameo pants and an unzipped flack vest with nothing under it save a pair of dog tags resting between her breasts. Noticing Joker ogling her, she gave a wink before pushing her shoulders together to boost up her cleavage and reveal her own tattoo, two and a half cards along the inside of each breast coming together to form a hand made up of an Ace of clubs and Jack of Hearts on the left boob, Joker and Queen of Spades on the right boob, and a King of Diamonds in the cleavage itself.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the elevator came to a stop and opened, and the group of five stepped into the bridge of the ship. The instant they exited the elevator, Ace commented, "Sorry guys, but I gotta go. I'll catch up with you later though."
"Don't threaten us," Joker quipped. "And remember to check your crap next time."
Aside from an annoyed "Gosh!" Ace had no response to that before he suddenly teleported away, transforming into a beam of light with no explanation or reaction from the others.
Jack made his way to the row of lockers along the adjutant wall and put his gear inside one of them before rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry ya'll, but I gotta check out too. It's getting pretty late where I am. I need some zees. But I'll see ya'll tomorrow." After the remaining three said their farewells, Jack vanished in a similar beam of light.
Leaving only Joker, King, and Wildcard.
King made his way to the controls and set the vessel for a crash dive to their next destination, wanting to put as much distance between them and the city as possible before someone got the bright idea to start dropping nukes like depth charges on them. Bringing their base this far inland was risky, but it had been the only option they had to avoid hours of fending off wolves nipping at their heels.
As he plotted in their course, Joker noticed Wildcard had taken a seat nearby and was now leaning back with a tub of popcorn in her lap, smirking at him with narrowed cat's eyes. That confused him, on several different levels. Why did she have popcorn? Where did she get it? And why did it look like she was ready for a show?
Upon turning around, and coming face-to-face with a very pissed-off King, at least the last of those questions had been answered. There was going to a show, the angry, shouty kind. Deciding to bite the bullet, Joker began with a simple, "What?"
King's piercing glare didn't lessen as silence filled the now tense room. After many seconds, only then did King finally respond. "What on earth happened out there today?"
"It's nothing," Joker attempted to say, passing off the elephant in the room.
"I have to respectfully disagree," King pushed in a tone decidedly lacking in respectfulness. "We've gone through worse in the past and you were just dandy. But today you were more off your game than a goalie on a basketball court! We almost failed because of that stunt you pulled with the Tesla cannons. A rookie mistake, I might add." There were a few seconds of silence, after which King asked plainly, "What is going on and where the hell is Queen?"
"Nothing is going on," Joker repeated. "Nothing is up."
King glared. "It's been almost two weeks since anyone has seen either of you, and just as long since anyone heard from you before today."
"We've been busy."
"Bullshit!" King called. "No one is ever too busy to send out a text for two solid weeks, not even you guys. And I know for a fact that Queen can text while you are going at it like rabbits because she's done it before! Besides, you've barely said a word all day. Your quip-to-second-quota is notably lacking. It isn't like you."
Joker had nothing to say about his less than talkative nature today, giving King all the incentive he needed to play his final card. "When Queenie isn't around and you clam up, it means something's going on, and that it isn't good." He turned and looked Joker dead in the eye, asking his next question pointblank, with no possible barriers.
"Is everything alright with you and Heather?"
'Joker' sighed in defeat. "Things are, uh…difficult, to be put it simply."
Wildcard piped up and asked, "What's the issue? Has she finally worn you out? Your well gone bone dry? Can't get 'little Cody' up after all this time? Don't worry, I've got pills for that!"
'King' face-palmed while 'Joker' gave a weak chuckle. "That's not what I meant, but thanks Izzy."
"It ain't no thang, Cody," Izzy stated. "But do ya wanna talk about it? It sounds like-a spicy meat-a-ball!" she exclaimed, mimicking a stereotypical Italian. "DJ and Harold are gone, and Noah won't liven things up, so Izzy's countin' on you! Of course…if you don't want to…then Izzy can do it herself." The wacky redhead stated suggestively as she stretched back in her seat, causing her flack vest to spread open, revealing even more of her creamy skin.
Cody sighed. "Something has…come up. Something big, something really, really big."
Noah and Izzy were silent, until Noah broke it. "Oh my God, you finally knocked her up."
"NO!"
Sunday, November 2nd, 2014 (2:00 PM)
Setbacks in the game aside, Cody had been really enjoying himself…up until this moment, anyway. The controller in his hands suddenly felt heavy, and looking at his GS4 didn't fill him with the tiny twinge of automatic joy it usually did. He looked around the room, and saw the Klingon bat'leth mounted on the wall, the multi-pointed weapon, fictionally ancient tech, grounded the Tech Geek. He was silent for a few moments.
Sighing, the Tech Geek said, "We ran into Gwen." Neither Noah nor Izzy said anything, rather remarkable for both despite their clashing personalities. Growing slightly annoyed with the silence, Cody continued. "We also ran into Duncan…they're are both in the same dorm we are."
That got a flat "What?" out of both of Cody's friends. Their voices echoed crisply and clearly in the room, projected by the TV's attached speaker system. Cody savored not having to wear his headset since Heather was out and would be out for quite some time.
The Tech Geek sighed again, figuring he might as well explain the situation to them. Part of the motivation for doing so was the knowledge that between the two of them, between Noah's relentless rapier sharp probing and Izzy's unrivaled ability at stirring the pot with out of the box notions, one of them would find a way to coax the information out of him eventually. But another part of it was Cody hoping that talking about it with someone might help ease his doubts and fears. Unable and uninterested in divining which was the stronger spur for his actions, the Tech Geek prepared to tell his closest friends what had been going on.
"It happened the other week," he began, steeling his resolve before making the irrevocable plunge. "One of our classmates woke Heather and me up in the middle of the night."
"Well, that puts this story off to a auspicious start," Noah snarked.
Cody groaned, realizing that the quipping Bookworm might make this take forever. Regardless, he didn't respond and merely resumed his explanation. "She had Gwen with her. She—Gwen—was…in pretty bad shape. She was drunk and out of it, to put it lightly." He paused, his mind flashing back to how she had been that night. It was more haunting than anything in any of the countless horror movies he had seen. "I'm pretty sure that Duncan hasn't been the best of boyfriends to her since we all last saw her."
"Do you want Duncan dealt with?" asked Izzy point blank, her voice dead serious.
The contrast between her current demeanor and how she was mere moments before gave the Tech Geek mild whiplash. If it had been anyone else, Cody would think they were joking. But with Izzy…he couldn't be so sure. And he considered the possibility, before shaking his head rapidly, as if to force out the dark storm of violent imaginings forming within. A little unsettled at how quickly and easily that mental thunderhead had formed, Cody uttered a laugh that he hoped didn't sound as forced through his friends' microphones. "I wish, Izzy," he finally said, "but that might just make things worse."
"How is Heather taking it?" asked Noah.
"That's actually the weird part," Cody commented. "She reacted the way you'd expect her to react, but at the same time she hasn't." There was a brief pause from his friends online.
"Cody, as fun as it is to have to guess what your trying to say," Noah began, with his powers of sarcasm on full display, "could you please not phrase your sentences as meaningless paradoxes and just tell us what you fucking mean by that already?"
"We've had an argument, but only one. Otherwise it's been a bit quiet. But she was the one who brought Gwen into our dorm and is basically blackmailing her into it!"
"How?" Izzy asked.
"I don't have a clue," Cody admitted, "All I know is that whatever it is, it pisses Gwen off. Outside of that little bit that I had to figure out for myself, I know nothing. Heather's been keeping me out of the loop with all things Gwen…and I honestly hate that."
"It would appear that Heather is treating you like a mushroom then, feeding you shit and keeping you in the dark," Noah remarked, as blunt and unforgiving as he usually was.
"Thanks, Noah," Cody said with a wistful sigh from believing that more than he didn't.
"Soooooooooooooooo," Izzy said in an elongated way that Cody was sure would be the quiet before a storm of a question, "Are you guys trying to rope Gwen into a threesome?"
"No," Cody said with a firmness usually foreign to him, which caught both Noah and Izzy off guard. Then the Tech Geek allowed his voice to become much more normal before adding, "But I'll freely admit that I asked Heather if that was her grand plan."
"Of course you did," Noah quipped.
"Wouldn't you if you were in my shoes?" Cody quipped in back.
There was a brief silence. "Touché." Noah admitted.
"Wow, Izzy never thought she'd see that. Yay! Now Izzy can finally cross 'Noah admitting defeat in a verbal bout' to someone other than Izzy from Izzy's bucket list!"
"You have a bucket list?" Cody asked, a little confused.
"You have me losing a verbal bout on your bucket list!?" Noah asked, a little pissed.
"Not important!" Izzy shouted at both of the boys. "By the way, this might seem off topic, but do either of you know where Izzy can find a hot seven foot tall black girl, a life-sized statue of Cthulthu made entirely of waffles and bacon strips, and enough explosives to shake the very crust of the Earth itself?" she asked, quite causally.
Neither Cody nor Noah could speak after hearing that. But of the two Cody was even more effected. He couldn't decide what was crazier, the list itself or that he could have actually gotten the first thing that the Wild Redhead had asked for. Eventually, he dropped it from his mind.
Once it was sent to the infinite carrion pit of his repressed subconscious, placed next to his memories of Sierra and the worst of the bullying from his school years, the Tech Geek said, "Uh…anyway…when I asked Heather, she just brushed it off. Just about the only words I could get out of her were 'don't worry about it' and 'trust me'." Cody then released a heavy sigh the moment the last word had passed through his lips.
"Judging by your tone and sighing though, it seem like trust in her is a little weak right now, huh?" Noah asked.
"This whole fiasco has been driving me up the walls. My head is honestly still spinning. It feels like life is a bullet speed marathon that I'm trapped on without a moment's rest. Everything seems so topsy turvy," Cody said, not directly answering the question. "The worst fucking part of this whole surreal episode is that I know that Duncan at minimum has hit Gwen at least once within the last month, and that's one time too many!"
"Did you see it happen?" Noah asked.
"No."
"Then how do you know it happened?"
"Because Heather told me about it."
Yet again, a minor miracle occurred, as both Noah and Izzy were silent for a moment. The Bookworm ended the marvel by asking, "If you trust Heather enough to take her word that Duncan hit Gwen, then why don't you trust her enough to handle this herself?"
"Th—that—that's not the same," Cody sputtered, "And—and the only things she told me are just making me more and more worried."
"What exactly has she told you, Cody?" the Bookworm asked.
"The day after Gwen was brought to us, I got back from hanging out with Cameron and Shawn to find Heather waiting for me. She told me she blackmailed Gwen into moving in with us. Naturally, I asked why and how. But she evaded and negated all of my questions. She told me to, and I quote, 'stay the fuck away from Duncan.' I'm not supposed to talk to him or go looking for him. After pressing her more forcefully, she said something about not trying to help because I might screw things up worse than they already are."
"And did she tell you anything else, anything at all? Any other conditions?" asked Noah.
"Just one," the Tech Geek said. "If Gwen ever comes to me and asks me something, about anything, no matter what it is, I'm to answer her and be as honest as possible."
"Has Heather told you to stay away from her like a feral grizzly bear?" asked Izzy.
"No," Cody said, "She didn't say anything like that, or of avoiding Gwen in any way. That's actually part of what's bothering me, but I'm not exactly sure why."
There was a brief silence as Cody's two friends on-line absorbed what he had shared.
"So let me see if I understand your situation?" Noah asked, preparing to summarize it. "Gwen, the girl who you followed like an orbiting moon as a teen, is going to the same college as you and Heather, down the hall on the same floor in the same dorm. She is still with Duncan, but he is abusing her. Heather has blackmailed her into moving in with you two and told you to answer any question Gwen asks as honestly as possibly. Aside from that her only other instructions are to avoid Duncan like a gonorrhea ridden hooker."
"The fourth worst kind of hooker!" Izzy piped up with.
"For the sake of my sanity, I'm not going to ask what three kinds of hookers are worse."
"Good move!"
"Anyway," Cody piped in, "yeah, that about sums it up. Any idea what Heather is up to?"
Both Noah ands Izzy were silent yet again, lending credence to the theory of it being a divine occurrence, coming in threes. It was the Bookworm's lack of speaking that piqued Cody's interest more. He could imagine Noah staring at his TV, fingers steepled, his tan face tightened in deep thought.
"I might have an idea," Noah began, his voice treading softly, "but then again, this is Heather we're talking about. And though I am reluctant to admit my intellectual limitations, I'll freely concede that she's above us when it comes to this kinda thing."
"So, what do you think Heather is up to?" asked Cody.
"I'm not saying." Noah said directly.
Cody nearly fell out of his chair. "Wha… but—but why?" he stuttered.
"Listen Cody. If Heather's kept you in the dark, treated you like a mushroom, in particular given your…unique difficulties with her being deceptive with you, it must be for a reason. I have an idea what she is up to, and if I'm right, I know why she's doing this. But if I'm wrong, then it could be something else, obviously. Either way, Heather kept you out of the loop for a reason. And whatever that reason is, she feels it's important enough for her to do things the way she is, whatever the consequences in regards to you."
Not sure what else to say, Cody asked the obvious question, "Why?"
"That should be obvious," Izzy cut in, surprising both boys, "Heather's like the anti-Izzy. She never does anything without a reason, good or bad! If she hasn't told ya anything, honesty or lie, its 'cuz she's counting on ya not knowing what she's up to. Heather doesn't play this game much, but she's always playing the game of life, and Izzy doesn't mean that glossy, candy covered board game of the same name that made success all about money and removed the possibilities of ruin and suicide!" [1]
Cody stared at his TV in confused horror. "Wait…what are you tal—?" he started to ask.
"If she told you what she was doing," Izzy continued, "you would act differently. Try to help her or stop her. If she lied to you, you would also act differently. Become saddened and all angsty, like a 90s era edgelord or a Star Wars fan after seeing Phantom Menace! Whatever she's got cooking, it needs you to be a certain way at some point for some reason. And the only way she can make sure she does that is by keeping you in the dark."
Finished, Izzy had rendered both Noah and Cody mute. Given her often manic and impulsive demeanor, it was easy to forget that the wacky redhead had an IQ of a hundred and eighty.
"At risk of sounding crazy enough to sign up for another reality television show, I think Izzy might be right." Noah chimed in. "Normally, I'd be screaming 'Danger, Will Robinson' at a situation like this. But personally, I don't think you need to worry."
"Why?" Cody asked, before cocking a grin. "Or are you going to say you can't explain it to me again?" He reflexively chuckled a few times.
The Tech Geek had been expecting Noah to join him in his minor mirth. He did not. Instead, Noah waited until Cody was finished before responding. "Normally when the old flame of a girl's boyfriend comes around," the Bookworm began, "said current holder of the proverbial ball and chain does everything in their power to drive them off, making sure they don't upset the carefully crafted little bubble they've made for themselves or become serious competition for their man. But in your case, Cody, that isn't problem. Heather surely sees she needn't worry about that since A; you would need to be a Lindsay-level idiot for leaving her for Gwen all things considered and B; there's no way in hell would Gwen would ever be interested in you romantically. Hell, I'm reasonably sure she was never much interested in being a friend of yours in the first place."
Cody briefly reeled in shock. He hadn't known what to expect, but he certainly didn't imagine that would be the reply. But very quickly, shock was washed away by a boiling wave of annoyance and anger. He felt something begin to furiously writhe within him. Giving voice to that, he uttered a sharp, "Hey!"
"The last time I checked, Cody, you were no longer a sixteen year old virgin, so it's finally time to face facts," Noah said, pushing Cody's reaction away with amazing ease. "You've probably still got this nostalgia saturated image of Gwen as an awesome friend of yours. I've been the good friend and kept my mouth shut about your delusions but with this turn of events I must be the good friend by telling you the way it is, the way it really is. She isn't your friend. She wasn't. And she never will be. Just look at the record."
"Everyone get ready for a first class cabin on the Memory Lane Express. All aboard! Whoo-whoo!" Izzy chimed in.
"Never once, in the entire run of Total Drama," Noah said, ignoring Izzy, "for three seasons did Gwen do anything that would lead me to believe that she thinks of you as a true friend. By Gwen's own admission in the show's confessionals, which I know you have seen since World Tour, you've always been nothing but an annoying little brother to her at best. Despite everything you did for her, her abysmal opinion of you never got any higher. Even after you set her up with Trent, she tossed him aside like a used tampon before the next season's merge, without even bothering to try and figure out what was wrong with him. And that was more or less what she did to you, never once even trying to talk to you until we were in the goddamn desert of Egypt over a fucking year after Total Drama Island!
"It wasn't just that either, though that would have be more than enough. After you took a shot to the nuts for her during the dodge ball challenge, she didn't even bother to thank you or ask if you needed any ice or painkillers. All of your little gifts and praises were ignored; unless it helped her or her team win a challenge. And she somehow got even worse during Total Drama World Tour! After she and Duncan were exposed in Greece and you alone protected her from elimination despite the rest of the team wanting her gone…she didn't so much as acknowledge your existence, unless it was to help her get rid of Courtney or Heather. Every single step of the way you've followed her like a lovesick puppy with no sense of dignity or shame while she took everything you offered her before kicking you to the curb. She never thanked you, never did anything that a real friend would, and most of all never showed any interest in as a potential boyfriend.
"And that is why if nothing else I fucking know that Heather isn't worried about her being around. Not because she doesn't think you wouldn't jump at a chance with her, but because she knows Gwen would never give you the time of day, let alone go out with you or give you a run in the sack. That makes her exactly the same as during Total Drama! Those are the facts of the matter. Like it or not, that's always been the fucking truth!"
As Noah's final shout ended, there was a powerful silence in the air made aglow by the flashing images of the carnage on the television screen. The thick tension was total, since Noah had finally unleashed something he had been holding onto ever since he became friends with the Tech Geek, with it being one of the few times he cared about someone else. And what had been attacked was one of Cody's most deeply held beliefs and hopes. Any number of horrible outcomes could result from this meltdown button being pushed.
"Mom…Dad…can you please stop fighting?" Izzy asked, breaking the silence for a moment, but only a moment.
The lack of sound draping the air was like a thick sheet of whale blubber over the head and shoulders, oppressing and suffocating. Neither of the usually talkative Total Drama contestants could compel themselves to speak further, until Cody offered his two-cents.
Compacted within a minuscule amount of time, the Tech Geek had undertaken an internal odyssey as daunting as anything from the pen of Homer, traveling to many lands within, all familiar and strange, and unsettling. He journeyed through many emotions, and discovered many things about himself. The port his journey began from was anger.
The Tech Geek had heard Noah's words, and he didn't like them. Not at all. They made him mad. It was a knee-jerk reaction, instinctual and automatic, but very powerful. He hated his friend giving him a history lesson when he asked for advice! In particular when said history lesson reopened old wounds that had closed painfully the first time. If Noah, his best friend, had made any kind of remarks about Gwen with even just a tenth of the vindictive potency towards the Goth as the ones just spoken within their teenage years, Cody probably would have ended their friendship. He would have been too blinded by his fanatical devotion to Gwen. Even at this moment, without any conscious effort, Cody conjured forth many defenses for Gwen's behavior during Total Drama's seasons.
His overeager and frankly kinda creepy approach. Gwen's previously anti-social nature slowly dethawing. The less than ideal environment of Total Drama itself, with difficult and often painful challenges that could easily lead to betrayal and elimination.
All those factors were still relevant and pieces of the puzzle, obviously. But until now, Cody would have viewed them as the only pieces. Hearing Noah's justifiable examples of Gwen's faults proved that false, with a harsh, unforgiving logic fitting for someone like the cynical Bookworm. With every new example Noah had dug up from their time on Total Drama, the white-hot passion of Cody's drive to defend Gwen on reflex had been cooled, like pouring water over a freshly forged sword. Each was ample proof of Gwen not being what Cody had believed with all of his heart and soul.
There were even several examples Noah didn't bring up, likely on purpose. The main one, likely not said because Noah hadn't witnessed it or out of some semblance of mercy, was during the Amazon Challenge, when Gwen wouldn't take his EpiPen as seriously as she should have. She had treated it like holding the shot of adrenaline like it would give her skin cancer. True, Cody had come on kind of strong in his efforts to convince her, but that didn't change the fact she didn't seem to appreciate that she held his life in her hands. And then there was the whole business with Sierra!
Though the current of life had taken Cody down a different path with the purple haired young woman than the one traveled on during his teenage years, the fear and anger and bitterness still lingered. And just like the rest of his team, Gwen had done nothing to help him. He could finally admit to himself that he had been angry with her all those years ago at the end of World Tour. Hell, even Heather, the first season's primary villain, helped him out during the season's end, at least to a degree more than anyone else in the entire season's run could claim.
Ironically though, the strongest example of Gwen's teenage failings came from Trent. Even Cody had been shocked by Gwen's reaction to the debacle during Action's first half. She hadn't been strong, or understanding, or even particularly intelligent. All of the things he had imagined her being with reasonable evidence to support his perception were absent. On a subconscious level, that had been part of the reason why he didn't even attempt to interact with Gwen until World Tour started. Though it had been years, many years, until he fully realized it, Cody understood that it might have been a blessing in disguise that he didn't hook up with Gwen as a teenager; a painful blessing, to be sure, but a blessing nevertheless. He winced at that idea, as if he had put his hand in a furnace.
Truthfully, Cody had long since suspected much of this, late at night when alone with his thoughts but he just couldn't admit to it. His feelings for Gwen had been too strong, his desperate clinging to them out of some misguided sense of nobility and lacking someone else to love, and the knowledge of how pathetic it was made it something best left unexplored. At least…until someone had the balls and will to sit him down and point all of this out, consequences be damned.
It was so obvious that Gwen had wanted nothing to do with him, but he had been blind. His years with Heather had slowly opened his eyes and his friend had forced the final revelation. After being away from her long enough and living his own life, Cody had developed enough of the maturity lacking during his time on Total Drama. That maturity was conjoined to greater wisdom slowly forged over the years.
More than most, Cody knew how intelligent Noah actually was. He always chose his words carefully, a quality the Tech Geek had noticed more acutely after hooking up with Heather. In particular, his attention was drawn to Noah's focusing on the idea of image, more specifically Cody's image of Gwen. Had he not been so jumbled up right now, he might have chuckled at the concept, mainly because there was one particular image in mind, the same image that had come up whenever he thought of Total Drama's Goth.
A girl, her skin like polished alabaster in enticing clothing as dark and mysterious as a starless night, stepping off the boat onto the Dock of Shame on the first day of Total Drama Island. Her face had been contorted into a bitter, guarded expression, but there had been something, some unexplainable subtlety within her strong stare of defiance, hinting at the kind of awkwardness and uncertainty that the Tech Geek was intimately familiar with.
Cody had of course seen Goths before at his school, but none as captivating as Gwen. He had a knack for understanding people even back then, so he quickly analyzed the young girl. He saw someone who was already great, but had the potential to become even more, a shy, pretty girl that proved to have a backbone and the strength to chart her own path. Cody could admit to being attracted to those qualities, with him lacking those himself.
An atom bomb of sullenness erupted within Cody, spreading through him like blood. He thought about what he had seen and learned since Total Drama when it came to Gwen. The image he had kept so close to his heart, as a light and sanctuary during dark times, had changed. Rather than the intriguing image of a complex sixteen-year-old beauty, the new picture of Gwen was that of a college freshman unconscious on the couch bed, covered in bruises, in an abusive relationship, with Dawn and Heather trying to help her.
That last part hurt the most. Heather. Matching his conflicted and painful thoughts about Gwen were those of his girlfriend. Girlfriend. A girl way out of Cody's or anyone's league. True, he eventually realized that Heather hadn't been the best girlfriend for quite some time. But that didn't lessen any of the things she had done to help him for so long. She loved him. Helped make him a better person, one capable of living in his own skin. And despite all of that, Heather had never broached the topic of Gwen. Feeling like an idiot in hindsight, at the time Cody had never given this startling omission much thought.
Cody was determined to fix that, to start thinking more, to really understand his station. The illusion was gone. Gwen wasn't, and hadn't ever been, some perfect girl to be idolized and coveted. She was just as human and flawed as he was. Gwen had been like salt, something tasty and obsessed over, but something that wasn't craved after a prolonged period of lacking its flavor. But he still wondered about that taste on fleeting occasion.
The atom bomb of sullenness soon transformed into something new, into something of unknown aspect, and unsettling implication. He remembered what he thought after the lunch with his friends some weeks ago, what he felt for Gwen wasn't love, but it was still quite strong. That strength worried him as much as his inability to identify what it was he felt.
The Tech Geek understood at that moment that it would take time, a lot of time, to get over this unknown feeling. His attraction to the Goth lingered quite mightily. But he vowed to never act on it, ever. Heather mattered too much to him to even think of hurting her.
But that didn't mean he wanted to forsake Gwen either, Cody realized. In his current state, Cody was unable and unwilling to ponder in earnest if this was more motivated by placating his attraction even the tiniest bit to weaken it, or if this was a manifestation of his natural tendency to help those in need.
He wanted to believe the later. After all, it had been an element of why he had been attracted to Heather, and part of the reason why he endured the heavy chains of her demand for secrecy in their relationship. Being wanted and being able to help her had given him a sense of purpose and accomplishment, a feeling of a different but comparable thrill to sexual climax. The need to feel needed and the desire to leave others better off after meeting him than before were intrinsic to his very nature. They were a part of who he was, even back during his clumsy but sincere teenage years.
As pleasant as that line of thought was, the fact Cody was unsure to its legitimacy hurt him. Was he truly looking out for Gwen, or merely given himself an excuse to bond with her? If that was true, was it out of some stubborn, delusional attempt to hook up with her?
Questions of this ilk assaulted him relentlessly, with the only result of Cody's random musings were him feeling like utter shit, without even fully understanding exactly why.
Unable to reconcile the confusingly jumbled up nature of his psyche, Cody decided to sigh and not comment on it directly. Instead, with a voice heavy and morose, he asked, "If that's true, then why is Heather doing all of this?"
Noah and Izzy didn't answer for a few seconds. Cody imagined them breathing sighs of relief. He could imagine the minefield that Noah had just bravely traveled through, having experienced such a thing first hand.
"I honestly don't know. I have a few good theories but they are just that, theories, and nothing more," Noah honestly answered. "Though I'm a master reader, of both books and people, Heather is the only person outside of Alejandro, and Emma…and you too Izzy, who can surprise me. She's too unpredictable for me to say anything about her plans with absolute certainty. After all, she did end up with you, Cody, choosing you over every. Other. Possible. Choice. That alone proves how impossible she is to fully understand."
Cody was silent for a moment, before he realized what Noah was implying with that. He uttered a rather undignified, "Hey!" in response. Both Izzy and Noah laughed.
"Listen, Cody Wody, Izzy's all for bucking authority and doin' whatever Izzy wants, but just this once, Izzy doesn't think you should. Whatever Heather's plannin', you shouldn't worry, cuz' at the bare minimum it won't be anything bad for you."
"As much as it may lead me down the path of Sylvia Plath, once again I believe that Izzy is right, for the most part." Noah added. "In all the time you've been together with Heather, she hasn't intentionally done anything to hurt you, and her work ethic to keeping you happy is borderline Amish-like in its drive. Let me give you a piece of practical wisdom I've picked up since hooking up with Emma. Do what every other smart guy with a girlfriend does. Listen to her and do whatever she says with no questions. But I do disagree about one thing. Most guys just have to worry about sleeping on the couch while being as untouched as the countless buried cartridges of Atari's E.T. But since you're with Heather, that means you have a lot more to worry about." [2] [3]
That got all three of the friends from Total Drama to laugh. Once the laugher was done, the Bookworm added, "Just remember Heather's instructions. Avoid Duncan like an STD, and be completely honest with Gwen. Even you should be able to follow those instructions."
"You know, Noah, I'm not a dog. I can remember things after a few minutes have passed." Quipped Cody.
"I know. But you can also be just as unrelenting, and goodhearted as one. And I don't want you to get hurt." Noah said his voice extraordinarily bereft of sarcasm. Cody heard this, and widely smiled. For all of his sass, Noah was as good a friend as one could have.
"Wow. Noah had a sincere moment of compassion without any cynicism?" Izzy said, more to herself than the others, her voice conveying genuine awe at such an occurrence. There was beat of reflective silence. "That's another one off the bucket list!"
"Okay, seriously Izzy, how many of those damn things involve me!?" Noah snapped.
Cody laughed very hard, his body convulsing as chuckles of increasing strength left him, leaving in their wake the much needed balm of happiness ever since that stormy night. Waiting until the amusement had left him and Noah had stopped his loud and futile efforts to goad and/or threaten Izzy into revealing the precise nature of her bucket list, Cody said, "Thanks guys, to both of you. I think I really needed this."
"It's no biggie, C-Dawg," Izzy said, her voice the equivalent of a dismissive hand wave.
"Having earned my friend points for the next century with that saccharine display," Noah interjected, "I should remind you that there is a cash prize for the tournament coming up. It is in my best interest to ensure that everyone on my team is in top shape. That means mentally, emotionally, and physically outside the game, and well geared and heavily armed inside the game. If you truthfully want to show me your thanks, Cody, give me a hand fixing up our new 'acquisition' since it's going to take a lot of resources and time."
"That won't be a issue," Cody said, "I've got plenty of time. I'm caught up on my homework."
"Yay! Then it's time to try out some of Izzy's new moves! Izzy wants to see how good her T&A looks twerking!"
Cody chuckled.
Noah groaned. "We'll never get anything done if she is doing that."
The sounds of friends laughing and virtual men being slaughtered filled the dorm's air. There wasn't a sound from anywhere else within this dwelling place's walls. But that didn't mean there wasn't someone else there aside from the distracted Tech Geek. Outside of Cody's sphere of comprehension, there was second person within the dorm room.
Another figure was standing past the partial threshold created by the door to Cody's living room being slightly ajar. The sounds of the game and the comments of Cody and his two fellow gamers were clear as a crystal lake in summer. Said figure slowly backed away from the opened portal and sat down on the floor with their back against the wall.
Gwen stared at the mostly closed off doorway with an uncertain expression on her pale face. Confusion tugged at her mouth and cheeks, while hurt further punctuated them.
And that concludes the next chapter of our story! As always, we hope you liked it.
I'm quite sure all of you already figured this out, but let me explain what the hell was happening in that first half of this chapter! Lol. That was Cody and some of his friends from Total Drama playing 'Frontline Warfare: Duty of Metal Honor Calls,' first mentioned WAYYYY back in chapter 14, together.
Originally this section was just going to be it saying that Cody is playing a video game, kinda like what it was in chapter 14. But we tried to do that, but it got really *really* repetitive. And since Cody is just sitting in his chair playing, with nobody else there and nothing else going on the chapter came out really, really boring. It was like reading a chapter about someone sitting in a chair watching TV. It was static, no action. We got the idea of trying it from a first person perspective, like how a gamer sees the world while playing a videogame. When you really, *really* enjoy a game, it's the same as when we really, *really* enjoy a story. The outside world melts away and the TV screen seems to encompass us almost, it's immersion, 'diving' as some call it. You aren't 'playing a game,' you are IN the game. The characters are real, your senses are real and it becomes as real to you as a dream.
This section of the chapter was the world through Cody's eyes while playing a game. It's one of the reasons the names were only revealed at the ending, because in game who you are and what you are isn't the same as outside the game.
A old friend and me went back and forth a lot on whether this section needed to be here at all, or as long as it was played a part in why it took so long the write as I am not a gamer myself. Please leave your thoughts as to your opinions on this question.
Here are the characters featured and their on-line names. Cody is Joker. Noah is King of Diamonds. Izzy is Wildcard. DJ is Jack of Hearts. Harold is Ace of Clubs. And though she wasn't featured in this chapter, Heather is Queen of Spades.
Just to clear some things up, no this chapter was not inspired by 'Ready Player One' though life would have been easier had the movie been released when I was given this outline back in 2015. For those of you interested in the source material used to create this game, my old friend shared these notes with me, be warned, unlike myself he is a gamer:
The game itself is primarily based on Lost Planet 2 (both Izzy's mech and the giant tank come from it), but there were many other sources I drew from. The call signs are loosely based on the 'Shuffle Alliance' from Mobile Fighter G Gundam, and Noah in particular is a tongue in cheek reference to Domon Kasshu 'The King of Hearts'. His transforming jet/mech on the other hand is based on Ultimate Nineball from Armord Core Ninebreaker though it also drew inspiration from a number of other 'reds' from the Armored Core series, the surfboard thing came from the anime Eureka 7 however.
If you want an idea of what Noah did scaling down the wall, look up 'Armored Core 4 opening' and you'll get to see it. Armored Core For Answer also supplied the inspiration for the clan base in the form of Stigro.
Cody's character is heavily based on Adam Jensen from Deus Ex: Human Revolution (at the time it was the latest in the beloved franchise) he also draws a little from Deadpool originally but that was phased out after Izzy replaced Sierra on the team.
Speaking of Izzy, her character is loosely based on Dizzy Flores from Starship Troopers. The purpose of this was Noah also being inspired partly by Juan/John Rico for his online persona attitude and command style.
Harold didn't get that much screen time this chapter, but his character is based on 'Montana' from 'Battleborn' (making him the most modern inspiration in the story ironically) It was hard to find ways to fit the humor of his colossal size in, so a lot of that got cut from the outline.
DJ, like Harold didn't get much focus, but his character is based heavily on the MKII incarnation of Jax, cybernetic arms enhancing his strength. Beyond that there is another subtle reference to this character choice that will be revealed later down the road.
Lastly, Heather does in fact have a character, and though a few hints and clues were offered you'll just have to wait and see what it is, though there were a few hints and clues given I made sure it wasn't enough to spoil.
Now…let's move onto the actual meat of the chapter, the talk between Cody, Noah, and Izzy!
After so many chapters devoted to Heather and/or Gwen, we both felt Cody needed some screen time and development. The recent events would certainty have a major impact on him after all. For the most part the conversation between the three friends flowed easily, with one exception. Cody's epiphany, and his seeing the flaws of Gwen he had been blind to before. That was a bitch and a half to write! Lol. We really wanted to convey how much Cody has changed since Total Drama. Please tell us what you thought of Cody's thought process and conclusions? Did it make sense? Did it feel organic? And what do you think that will lead to going forward?
This is a minor detail in the grand scheme of things, but this chapter also reveals that Noah is going out with Emma. Fun fact, our original plan was to have him hook up with Eva but after seeing Ridonculous Race I knew it had to be Emma! Their relationship in the show was too good for me not to include it. Both Emma and Kitty will appear somewhere down the road, but when, you'll just have to wait and see. Also we will eventually learn about the particulars of how Noah and Emma hooked up in this story's timeline.
So, there are only a few footnotes to comment on before we wrap up this chapter.
[1] This might just seem like madness from Izzy, but it's actually not. This is referring to the board game The Game of Life, and how the original version is radically different from the modern take. The original was first marketed in 1860, and the modern version most of us know was first made in 1960. I won't go into all the differences, but I will explain the ones Izzy brings up. First the first part. In the modern version, the winner is determined by who has the most money and achievement at the end. In the original, there was no money at all. It relied instead on points on squares to calculate the winner. The goal wasn't a fat retirement fund, but rather "happy old age." Those who achieved it did so through industrious living (and by playing the game prudently). Now the second part. As well as things like success, a career, and a family, the original Game of Life also had spaces for such things as: "Suicide," "Crime to Prison," "Gambling to Ruin," "Poverty," "Jail," "Ruin," "Intemperance to Poverty," and "Disgrace." Fun, fun, fun! Lol.
[2] This bit from Noah contains two different references. The first is to Sylvia Plath. She was a writer whose most noteworthy feature was having serve mental health problems. For most of her adult life, she had clinical depression. And she wrote about what it was like having such depression, mainly in the semi-autobiographical novel The Bell Jar, published in 1963 under the pseudonym "Victoria Lucas."
[3] And here is the second reference Noah makes. This one is about the legendarily bad 1982 video game E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial for the Atari 2600. It was based off the Best Picture winning film of the same name. Believing that video games would always be a money-making success and riding high off previous successes, Atari gave the person responsible for it only a third of the normal time required to make a game in 1982, to make sure the game was released in time for the holiday season of that year. As one might imagine, it was a complete disaster. A video game so bad that many blame it more than any other title for the Video Game Crash of 1983. This was a game so bad that nearly killed video games as an art form in its crib! It sold so poorly that Atari took thirteen tractor-trailers full of unsold cartridges of it and other gaming bombs and buried them in a landfill in Alamogordo, New Mexico. That was deemed a less serve loss than trying to sell the damn things in stores! Lol.
As always, we hope you enjoyed this chapter and can wait until the next one. Until then, please: read, review, alert, favor, and spread the word!