Fisk slid his hand along the chassis of an old Pontiac as he stepped along through the Ferry. Right away, Fisk knew something was off, but then again he came here expecting it. Now it was good just to confirm it with his own eyes. Dangling rope, no Ivan.
Click, clack, clank made his feet as he glided towards what was meant to be Ivan’s final resting place. Seth wasn’t lying, he did cut the bastard down. It made sense that it was him, story added up and all, but what did he use to do that? Looked like something ripped through the ropes, and there was no way Seth did that with his hands. Maybe he gnawed at it like a rat? Incredibly pathetic if that were the case. His eyes trailed to the doorway the rope dangled in front of.
That was a lot of small holes in the corner. Sure, the boat’s decrepit, but that’s an odd pattern of corrosion, if it were corrosion. He smiled under his mask, though he was confused as to why. This wasn’t good. Seth wasn’t alone in getting Ivan down, or if he was, he was armed with a shotgun.
This meant that either Ivan, or someone aligned to him was armed with one. Sure lots of people were armed in SOTF, but someone who was armed and knew what they were capable of? Could be another Verity situation, or even worse.
Fisk felt his coat pocket. It reminded him that Seth already had a ‘weapon’ as good as it did him. Ivan’s weapon broke off of the railing when he got counter-ambushed. That left someone else, but who?
Fisk couldn’t help but look around him, he felt as though he was being watched. Everyone knows a killer returns to the scene of the crime, though Fisk was only entertained to see how and why Ivan was still among the living.
He began his ascent up the stairs, making his way to the bridge Ivan appeared from the first time. Did another look back and forth. Peeked around some of the cars below him. He was alone for the most part. He removed his mask, and leaned on the railings. He noticed his hands were shaking. He forced them to stop. His hands made a slow descent to resting on the railing. Fisk sighed.
“Well Shiva. I don’t suppose we’ve been formally introduced yet...”
Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Well. To What Do I Owe The Extreme Pleasure Of This Suprising Visit?
Mentorshot turned multishot.
Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Well. To What Do I Owe The Extreme Pleasure Of This Suprising Visit?
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
“Well?”
Fisk waited for a reply. “So you got nothing for me?”
Aaaaand this is why Fisk became his own mentor. You expect him to work for a team that couldn’t give him any decent advice, let alone some transparent words of encouragement? Yeah fuck that. Wasted talent on following some disembodied voice that couldn’t give a rats ass wether he lived or died so long as it benefited them. They weren’t here, they weren’t in the arena, fuck them.
Fuck every last one of them watching. Just because they were the ones who put him here, they had power over his life, over his friends’ lives? Yeah right. SOTF doesn’t mean shit without the contestants, and no arbitrary rule could change that. Fisk was in control, not the producers, not the SFX crew, and definitely not these fuckass mentors. This show lived off of Fisk and his choices, what he did with The Respects. Fisk chose to play their game because it was the best possible outcome for his friends, to get them to the end, to get the best possible outcome. Sure he could try to escape, but why risk getting his neck blown or his friends for a plan with barely a single percent chance of working, all it would take is one person to flake, or one person with a gun to fuck it all up. But to make it through to the end with his team? Much easier.
They wanted a team victory more than anything, but it would not work with the trashy rules they’ve set in place. He knew nobody on any of these made up teams would work together, that’s why he made his own. So what if he had to kill to get to the end? He didn’t give a shit about his classmates, they were just names that belonged to faces that he would forget only months after high school. Half of them he already didn’t remember anyways. Was he really supposed to play this game with some random mongrels he had no attachment to?
Did they expect him to kill his friends just so some insufferable crybaby thanklessly bemoans how he’s a murderer, unaware that they live because of his choice? No, fuck them too. He’d kill everyone here to insure his friends went home; and if that don’t work, and the producers try to screw them for it?
Fisk will hold the game hostage. Easy as that. This series lives or dies by the choices he makes, not the producers. He gives them the ride of their lives and suddenly the ending is ruined? People will lose faith, they’ll move on. They accept his ultimatum, however? His friends go home, and the series goes into a golden age where they realize what the people really want. They had no power over him, Fisk was the one with the ace in the hole, he chooses how this ends. Either way he’ll reach immortality, either as the man who sold the world to save the ones he cared about, or the man who burned it all down in vengeance. If it costs his life so be it, but one way or another his friends are making it home, and if Fisk wins, he won’t walk home alone. People may hate him, but his conscience is clear. Everyone else is fighting for themselves, and those hypocrites may blame him, but Fisk was always honest in his intentions, he was always fighting for the people he cared for and by that reasoning alone, his path was pure.
Fisk noticed movement in the distance. Quite a lot actually, from all sides. He didn’t need this right now, nor did Vasily. He crawled under the railing, squatted down and grabbed the ledge, hopping down in front of the doorway with a clank.
Fisk waited for a reply. “So you got nothing for me?”
Aaaaand this is why Fisk became his own mentor. You expect him to work for a team that couldn’t give him any decent advice, let alone some transparent words of encouragement? Yeah fuck that. Wasted talent on following some disembodied voice that couldn’t give a rats ass wether he lived or died so long as it benefited them. They weren’t here, they weren’t in the arena, fuck them.
Fuck every last one of them watching. Just because they were the ones who put him here, they had power over his life, over his friends’ lives? Yeah right. SOTF doesn’t mean shit without the contestants, and no arbitrary rule could change that. Fisk was in control, not the producers, not the SFX crew, and definitely not these fuckass mentors. This show lived off of Fisk and his choices, what he did with The Respects. Fisk chose to play their game because it was the best possible outcome for his friends, to get them to the end, to get the best possible outcome. Sure he could try to escape, but why risk getting his neck blown or his friends for a plan with barely a single percent chance of working, all it would take is one person to flake, or one person with a gun to fuck it all up. But to make it through to the end with his team? Much easier.
They wanted a team victory more than anything, but it would not work with the trashy rules they’ve set in place. He knew nobody on any of these made up teams would work together, that’s why he made his own. So what if he had to kill to get to the end? He didn’t give a shit about his classmates, they were just names that belonged to faces that he would forget only months after high school. Half of them he already didn’t remember anyways. Was he really supposed to play this game with some random mongrels he had no attachment to?
Did they expect him to kill his friends just so some insufferable crybaby thanklessly bemoans how he’s a murderer, unaware that they live because of his choice? No, fuck them too. He’d kill everyone here to insure his friends went home; and if that don’t work, and the producers try to screw them for it?
Fisk will hold the game hostage. Easy as that. This series lives or dies by the choices he makes, not the producers. He gives them the ride of their lives and suddenly the ending is ruined? People will lose faith, they’ll move on. They accept his ultimatum, however? His friends go home, and the series goes into a golden age where they realize what the people really want. They had no power over him, Fisk was the one with the ace in the hole, he chooses how this ends. Either way he’ll reach immortality, either as the man who sold the world to save the ones he cared about, or the man who burned it all down in vengeance. If it costs his life so be it, but one way or another his friends are making it home, and if Fisk wins, he won’t walk home alone. People may hate him, but his conscience is clear. Everyone else is fighting for themselves, and those hypocrites may blame him, but Fisk was always honest in his intentions, he was always fighting for the people he cared for and by that reasoning alone, his path was pure.
Fisk noticed movement in the distance. Quite a lot actually, from all sides. He didn’t need this right now, nor did Vasily. He crawled under the railing, squatted down and grabbed the ledge, hopping down in front of the doorway with a clank.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.