fandomhigh | The Tournament - Danger Shop

Slade	Arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed what looked like a Colosseum, Deathstroke the Terminator was not amused. This was an idiotic idea. He really needed yo be pickier about his jobs if this managed to get through the screening. He was even less amused by his co-judges.
Tyler	Tyler was not particularly amused himself. "I thought we were supposed to take over the island, not spend the weekend playing Simon Cowell," he announced, folding his arms and glancing to the third judge. "And why is she here?"
Ghanima	"She is here because there is to be at least a show of fairness in these proceedings," Ghanima said coldly. "There are rules of engagement for these types of things, and your Mayor knows perfectly well they must be adhered to."
Deathstroke	"It's a fair tournament," Slade replied, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
Lady Atreides	I do not doubt the fairness of the tournament structure," Ghanima replied blandly. "However, having judges that only represent one side of the contest would present an image of inequality that cannot be allowed if the results are to be accepted as valid. Don't you agree?
Mr. Durden	"Whatever you say," Tyler said, rolling his eyes. "We have to kill some time before we get the island, anyhow. May as well pretend to be fair about it. And it's totally not a rigged tournament. We got rules and everything." He rattled the sheet of paper in his hands, leaned into the microphone. "Okay, 'The first rule of fi-', whoops, that's personal. Let me try something else." He shuffled the pages. "Two people to a match, they go on as long as they have to or until the bell rings, whatever's first." A pause. "This next rule is stupid. And I'd buy a drink for anyone who pulled off breaking that one." He tilted the page to show Slade.
Mr. Wilson	"Cross that one off," He said dryly. "And I don't think most of the people here are all that concerned about the image they give off, Miss Atreides.
Princess Ghanima	"The people? Not exactly. But in case you haven't noticed, islands like ours have their own rules," she answered. "Either we play by the laws of engagement, or we probably all wake up tomorrow as pink mice." "And I do not know about you two, but pink is not my color." Ghanima held out a hand for the rules. "Anything we actually have to keep, gentlemen, or can we just throw the whole stack out?"
Tyler	"I'm always gonna vote for throwing them out," Tyler said flatly, passing the rules to Ghanima. "Everybody signed the waiver, anyhow." There had been no waiver. "I say we let the pirates start, and then add rules if we absolutely need them. I'm ready to see some fights."
Deathstroke	"As much as I don't want to say it--" Slade took a deep breath. "I agree with him."
Ghanima	So the two judges provided by the other island did not get along. Fascinating. Ghanima's eyes flickered over the rules briefly and her mouth curled in distaste. "Well these are less-than-useless," she sighed. "Worse, they're boring." Attempts to sanitize combat always annoyed her. "First match! Mr. Barbossa. Captain Jack Sparrow. Step forward, please. We're all waiting."

[[~~Wait for the~~ OCD is up and Deathstroke will STILL kill you where you stand!]]

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Teyla had rested as much as she was able, with her worries still heavy on her mind. The sensation of Wraith presence had only gotten stronger during the night, but Teyla was determined to set thoughts of her enemies aside, and focus on the task at hand - winning the fight for which she'd been chosen.

She stepped into the tournament area with a look of confidence, but it faltered as she finally came face to face with her opponent.

Michael had been looking forward to this moment since they'd first set eyes on Fandom, and the look of surprise on Teyla's face only made things that much sweeter. "Ah, Teyla. It's so good to see you again."

Teyla stared at the man in front of her, but held her ground. "I apologize," she said stoically. "I do not believe we have met."

"It didn't occur to me, but it's possible that we haven't met here," Michael said. "The universe works in strange and complicated ways."

"You have me at a disadvantage then," Teyla said, tightening her grip on her bantos sticks. "I do not even know your name. That is, if the Wraith in your world have names."

"I did not have a name for a great deal of time," Michael said, circling closer to her. "But that was when I was still just Wraith. Now, I'm so much more, and I have my name - Michael, the name given to me by you and your friends."

"I do not make it a habit of naming Wraith. Nor do my friends," Teyla replied, circling away from him as she took on a defensive stance. "What are you then, to call yourself more than a Wraith?"

"I have what many consider an unfortunate taint - human DNA," he said. "The others would not accept me back, considering me...damaged, in a way. But the people of Nemesis have been nothing but supportive of my efforts."

The idea of someone being both Wraith and human startled Teyla, so much so that she almost stumbled as they continued circling. "What efforts?"

Michael stopped where he was, and faced Teyla head-on. "Did I not mention that part? I've realized that I shouldn't be the only one in the universe to possess the gifts that I have. I've been studying ways to create similar results in...opposing populations."

Teyla stared at him with a look of horror as she realized what he meant. "You want to turn humans into Wraiths?"

"Not pure Wraiths," Michael said. "Hybrids. Beings with the best of both worlds, capable of more than either race alone. I haven't had as much luck in my early tests as I'd hoped, but I have my sights set on a new, stronger population. I believe you know them as Athosians."

If people were watching in the audience, Teyla was no longer aware of them. The judges faded away as all of Teyla's focus went to this man, this creature in front of her that was threatening her people. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that she had not been chosen to talk - she had been chosen to fight, and as her rage peaked, she lost all thoughts of defense, and threw herself at Michael, screaming.

The attack was a surprise, but Michael was not so thrown off-guard that he could not block Teyla, and throw her backwards. "You should consider yourself special, Teyla," he said. "You are about to help me prove the superiority of my new race. Surely, you cannot believe that as a mere human, you are stronger than I am."

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Cue wee squirrely gasp of dismay.

The four chipmunks were reporting on location glanced over at the squirrel and snorted derisively, then looked over at the girl Michael had taken out.

She was kind of cute for someone who was unconscious.

"TOO BAD, UNCONSCIOUS GIRL!" they wrote on a large piece of paper and waved it.

Maybe she'd be impressed with their spelling when she woke up.

Oh bad move, chipmunks.

Now there was a slightly homicidal, alarmingly sober squirrel trying to beat them to death with his reporter's notepad.

The fur was flying now! ~~Heh.~~

Pay no attention to the giant furry ball of teeth and tails that were rolling around. Really.

"That's our round," Tyler said, almost cackling. "She put up a fight, but not even close. I feel kinda bad for her."

No, he didn't.

Ghanima looked down at Teyla's still form impassively. "Someone please fetch a medic for Miss Emmagen," she said. "Round to Nemesis."

"Nemesis." At least it was close to a fight. Even if it was a pitiful one.

The Tournament - Danger Shop - Friday

Teyla Emmagen vs. Michael

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Judges' Decision

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