Tristan Dell

[ĸara вelova★]

The MC's voice boomed throughout the theatre, "There are three guards. The competitor must disable them from attacking. They are not allowed to kill, or injure in a way that would kill, these men. Each guard that is rendered unable to fight, is worth one point."

A door opens, and light streams out. You can see the stage, and you are urged to go forward. When you enter the arena, the crowd errupts in loud applause and whistles. Some are chanting your name. But above this noise, the MC speaks to you, and you alone.

"Try to get as many points as you can, because the more you get in Stage I, the easier Stage II will be for you." The guards all turn in your direction.

"Let's see if Tristan has Stage Fright!"

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

This was stupid. Tristan knew it was stupid, yet he signed up for the contest anyway. As he paced into the arena, he asked himself why the hell he had entered the Stage Fright competition to begin with, but then the image of the event’s flyer popped into his head and he remembered exactly why. Tristan had never been poor, but money was definitely something that his family didn’t have to throw around when he was growing up. They didn’t take annual family vacations or go out to eat a lot. They didn’t have the coolest new clothes or an in-ground swimming pool, but none of that stuff mattered to him or his brothers. They found plenty of ways to entertain themselves that didn't require mounds of cash like some of his friends.

A million dollars, though… that was certainly appealing. Tristan could think of a hundred and one things to do with a million dollars, and hardly any of them, though it wasn’t too surprising, had much to do with him. He’d send his mother on a well-deserved vacation and pay off the stupid diner. He’d make sure Landon was set for college, even though his favorite (and only) nephew just turned one the week before. He’d find something that would keep Garrett home so Charlotte would stop worrying about her second-oldest son. That was why, Tristan remembered, he signed up for the contest.

The young man stepped onto the stage and at first the only thing he saw was the glow from the bright lights above the stage. He brought a hand to his forehead to shield himself from the florescent glow until his eyes adjusted and he was able to see normally. He blinked a few times before taking in the guards and the scene before him. He didn’t look pumped up, nervous, or psycho like some of the other contestants might have. In fact, Tristan Dell even looked a little bored as he quickly thought up a strategy that would hopefully get him one step closer to that prize.

[ĸara вelova★]

Toshiro was wearing an XXXXL Monster t-shirt, and still it was too small for his giant belly. He had a highly amused smile on his face, which crinkled his olive shaped eyes until they were barely visible slits. His giant girth nearly blocked the other two guards from view, as he was the closest to Tristan. He waved, looking sort of like a very large, very fat child.

To his right was Stick, a boy who tested video games for PlayStation. He was shaking and jumping on the balls of his feet, the caffiene from the Monster drinks he'd consumed before the battle pumping through his skinny body. This is the coolest idea for a video game ever! He giggled loudly.

The last guard was Ulric, who wore dark leather and chains instead of the Monster uniform. His combat boots and heavy eye make-up made him look a little odd, however something about the way his face was relaxed, much like Tristan, suggested he wasn't just a freakshow looking for a good time. Something about him screamed 'hidden agenda'.

When the battle began, Toshiro waddled forward, and Stick practically skipped to his side. He wanted to see what this kid could do. He didn't look like anything special. He just looked ordinary to him. But then again, Stick looked ordinary, and he totally wasn't. He was bad-ass and awesome and definitely the Master Chief of this squad. It was up to him to make the first move.

"Look, a distraction!" He cried, pointing to a spot behind Tristan as though a rainbow-coloured pterodactyl was descending from the ceiling. Toshiro looked and frowned. There was nothing there...

Ulric crossed his arms over his chest and waited back.

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

All of this reminded Tristan of some C-list movie that only young boys who had nothing better to do than play computer games and who still had Star Wars bed sheets would watch. Had this been Awful Movie World, he probably would have come up with some cheesy line like Clint Eastwood’s “Go ahead, make my day,” from Sudden Impact, but luckily for everyone, this was the real world.

The first thing that Tristan noticed about the guards was the size difference between the big guy and the toothpick. He couldn’t help but laugh as he pictured the pleasantly plump guard as a bowling ball rolling down a lane to knock down the pin. In this case, the pin was the younger guy, and while the image was a pretty humorous one, it was what inspired Tristan’s plan of attack.

Tristan didn’t use his gift a lot. Moving objects without actually putting in the effort to move them made him feel lazy, which was why he did everything the hard way. Today, however, it seemed that his gift would definitely come in handy. Deciding that he would save the weirdo wearing more makeup than his last girlfriend ever did for later, Tristan took a step toward the approaching bowling ball and pin. He stuck his right arm straight out in front of him in the direction of Toshiro, then swung his arm to the left, which was the direction of the younger guard.

With any luck, Tristan hoped his telekinesis gift would be strong enough to push Toshiro right into Stick, which would hopefully send both of them tumbling off the stage and away from him.

[ĸara вelova★]

Ulric stared at Tristan intently while the other two idiots charged forward. When the young man lifted his hand, he took a step back, just in case. But his attack seemed to be directed at the fat guy, who at the moment was his biggest threat. He approved of Tristan's decision, but that also meant the kid was smart. He watched Toshiro carefully to see what the effect was.

The 400lb sumo wrestler stumbled to the side as though someone had rammed into him from the left. He tumbled to his right, and would have fallen right on Stick if the kid weren't so darn eager. Stick was faster than the human bowling ball, and pulled into the lead when the big guy staggered. He looked behind him and figured Toshiro just tripped over his own weight, further proving how badass he was. When he reached Tristan however, he didn't have any super-complicated mega-combo to unleash on him. Instead... Stick jumped on him, latching onto the guy like some crazy zombie. His clasped his hands and ankles together behind Tristan's back, pinning his arms to his body.

Meanwhile, Toshiro struggled to get up, looking remarkably like a turtle stuck on its back, and Ulric took a few cautionary steps forward, figuring that sitting back and watching was what the audience was for.

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

Tristan’s plan of taking down the two approaching guards only half-worked, which annoyed him. He was hoping to kill two birds with one stone, or in this case disable two guards with one push, but apparently luck just wasn’t on his side. He didn’t have much time to think about it because the next thing he knew, there was a skinny kid launching himself at him.

Being the youngest of three boys, Tristan has been beaten, battered, and bruised by his older brothers for as long as he could remember. He learned to fight back once he had gotten older, and after that not a day had gone by from the time Tristan was ten until very recently that he, Garrett, and Lucas weren’t shoving each other down the stairs, tackling each other in the front yard, or smacking each other around for no apparent reason.

Tristan never thought that getting his ass kicked by his older brothers as a kid would ever come in handy, but now he would have to thank them for using him as their punching bag. He also had to thank genetics for allowing him to grow to be 6’3, and his mother for forcing him to drink mile and eat carrots when he was little so he could, as she always put it, “grow up to be big and strong.” She also told him that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles did it, and that was all the convincing he needed.

He stumbled and struggled at first, but then Tristan managed to pull his hands free. He placed one hand on each of the freak kid’s shoulders and shoved him away as hard as he could.

[ĸara вelova★]

So these are the reasons everything happened the way it did. Stick had the build of an experienced gamer, and therefore was ridiculously scrawny with muscles bulging in his thumbs. When Tristan pushed him away, his grip around the young man's broad shoulders slipped, but his legs tightened. This caused Stick to tip and fall backward, still attached to Tristan's midsection. The back of his head struck Tristan's shoes, and he was dazed, visions of pacman wakka-wakkaing across his eyes.

Meanwhile, Ulric helped Toshiro roll onto his stomach by kicking him, and the former sumo wrestler stood and glowered at his companion. But Ulric gestured with his thumb toward Tristan, who was now stuck in a rather awkward yet provocative position with their skinny companion. Toshiro glanced over and started chuckling in a deep, belly-rumbling laugh.

Ulric resisted rolling his eyes, and told the big guy to get over there. He had a fairly decent idea of what Tristan's power was, and he was attempting to find a way to best the boy. That included not standing right next to Toshiro.

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

Well this as awkward. And embarrassing. Tristan wondered if the other contestants were having as hard of a time as he was. He hoped for their own sake that they didn’t have some freak show clinging to them, especially Eve, but that was more for the safety of the guard. He knew his best friend would have beaten the guy halfway into tomorrow by now. This contest was proving to be a lot more difficult than he expected, but there was no way he was giving up. He needed that money.

“Are you fricken serious?” he muttered, already fed up with this competition in the first round. Had this been a fight with Lucas or Garrett, Tristan would have hit his opponent square in the jaw already, but for some reason Tristan felt that he just couldn’t hit this kid. He couldn’t explain why, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he reminded Tristan of a pathetic little 13-year-old with no friends.

He took his eyes off of Stick long enough to see the leather guy helping the big guy to his feet. Tristan didn’t want to have to start over again, so he shoved his hand forward in Toshiro’s direction. He looked like a halfback stiff-arming a middle linebacker in a football game, but there was no one to plow over. He used his gift hoping that he would send the wrestler backwards.

Immediately after, Tristan turned his attention back to the scrawny guy. He reached around his back, grabbed the guard’s ankles, and tugged as hard as he could in an attempt to throw him to the ground.

[ĸara вelova★]

Toshiro had just gotten up to his feet when Tristan sent him flying backwards. This time he rolled like a crooked bowling ball, tumbling way back. The extra concentration had apparently been key to tossing around 400lbs of Asia's finest.

Ulric's eyes bulged as he watched Toshiro zoom to the very end of the stage. There the wrestler teetered, but the propelling force of Tristan's attack sent him crashing off the stage. He went still, and the entire medic team had to come to the big guy's rescue.

"One of the guards is out for the count! This young man is incredible!" The announcer crowed, and the audience errupted into applause and whistles.

Ulric was having a difficult time thinking of a strategy. Stick was having an even more difficult time fighting Tristan's strong arms with his skinny legs. He failed of course, and dropped onto the stage floor. He rolled backward like Toshiro, with about as much grace as the sumo wrestler too, and managed to stand. He shook his head and held his hands up in a boxer's stance, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. He looked wobbly at best, and sick at worst.

Ulric wasn't going to wait though. He flung his baton at Tristan, and called for Stick to duck. He wholly expected the metal stick to come whizzing right back at him, or his remaining teammate. But it was only a distraction, because Ulric then launched himself at Tristan's gut and threw the hardest punch he could, keeping his head low.

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

Poor Tristan didn’t have time to even remotely celebrate taking out the first guard because by the time he pried the bony second guard off of himself, the third already launched his attack.

He saw the baton coming and had just enough time to dive to his left to doge the flying weapon, but he hadn’t been expecting the physical attack. Before Tristan could really piece together what was happening or how to avoid the tackle that he didn’t see coming until it was too late, the guard’s punch hit him right on the side of the mouth, causing him to bite almost completely through his bottom lip.

The hit sent Tristan flying backward and he slid across the cold floor, skidding to a stop a few feet from Ulric. He heard something crack when he hit the ground, though he probably wouldn’t realize until later that it was one of his own ribs.

The determined boy winced as he shakily but surely got back on his feet. He spit the blood that had collected in his mouth onto the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked like he could have come straight from Twilight or True Blood or whatever the hell those vampire movies were that had all the girls going crazy.

Tristan looked around for something to hurl at the dangerous guard. He looked to his left, but really only saw the audience and the glow from the bright lights above. When he looked to his right, all he saw was more lighting. Figuring it was all he had, Tristan sent one of the stage lights flying in Ulric’s direction.

[ĸara вelova★]

Ulric didn't have any super-powers, but he seemed to know what he was doing. He was determined and clever, and prided himself on being able to adapt to any situation. He knew that Tristan was tough, and he knew what his power was. The boy had a great advantage, but Ulric was strategic. He had to stay close to Tristan, because he had a feeling Tristan was smart enough to not hit himself with an object he summoned, but far enough away to steer clear of his right hook. He also had another player, who was curled up on the floor at Tristan's feet after following Ulric's instruction to 'duck'.

So the stage light attacked him, and he lunged at Tristan again. Only this time he flung all his weight into the two-handed shove. His plan was to dodge the stage light, and topple Tristan over Stick's body. However he wasn't fast enough to avoid the light stand, and it hit his one arm, sending him spinning out of control onto Tristan. Stick squealed when he was crushed, and Ulric's elbow was bent at a disturbing angle.

"I think we need a clean up in aisle three," The MC announced, causing the crowd to chuckle at the mess on the stage.

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

Tristan stumbled backward when Ulric crashed into him, coming close enough to the edge of the stage that that heels of one of his sneakers stuck out over the edge. The crowd gasped, but luckily he was able to catch his balance before he crashed to the ground and took himself out of the competition.

He was glad that the crowd found it sooooo funny that he was getting knocked around by a dude wearing makeup and a video game freak. He knew that the competition wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but he wished that he could at least catch some kind of break. It hurt when he breathed, undoubtedly from the rib he most likely cracked on the last fall, and his mouth was still bleeding. Tristan just wanted to finish the damn thing so he could go back stage, see how his friends did, make sure Eve was okay, and possibly find some clothes that weren’t covered in his own blood.

Since both of the guards were tangled together on the ground, Tristan figured he had a few seconds to figure out a plan. So far everything that he had tried had only half-worked, which clearly wasn’t good enough. He needed something that was going to deliver one final blow.

He looked around, and once again all he could see was the lighting and television equipment. The light trick obviously didn’t work, and he couldn’t send any of the big overhead lights crashing down onto the remaining guards. He wanted to take them out of the competition, not murder them with massive falling objects. What else was there?

His answer came when he caught a glimpse of two television cameras near the stage. He didn’t know what else to do, so Tristan sent the huge cameras flying in the guards direction. The producers were going to kill him. The massive 200-pound cameras had to have cost a good $10,000 each, so hopefully they were as durable as they were expensive. At least it would make for excellent TV.

[ĸara вelova★]

Ulric groaned and gingerly tested his arm. Something was definitely broken; he couldn't move it without feeling as though the world was going to end. He guessed it was his elbow. Damn stage light. What was he going to send at them next? The bloody tv cameras?

Ulric forgot to knock on wood.

The camera men cried out in alarm. They hadn't expected to suddenly be involved in the competition! Stick was just getting to his feet when the camera zoomed in a little too far. He was bowled backward, and because he was a lightweight, the camera was able to keep on rolling him right off the stage. The playback would show Stick was screaming like a little girl before the camera and him collided with the wall off-stage.

Stick was 90lbs or something, whereas Ulric was a healthy 160lbs. He got to his feet just as the second camera shot at him, and instead of being transported to the other side of the stage like his partner, he was smacked right in the head by the tilting lense. He crumpled to the stage floor before that witty mind of his could think a way out of it.

All that was left was Tristan standing precariously close to the edge of the stage, and a roaring audience.

"What a show, ladies and gentlemen! Two birds with... two cameras! I'll bet Tristan Dell will be the new Steven Spielberg!" The MC jabbed good-naturedly at the tired young man on the floor. "I'll bet we'll see the Stage Fright in the eyes of those guards! I can't wait till Stage II, can you?" The crowd cheered wildly, and the filming director and his team were scrambling to fix their violated equipment for the next contestant. The door opened from where Tristan came from before the match.

"We'll be seeing you soon, Tristan!"