Captain America

[Namira]

((Tyler Blake continued from Actions Speak Louder Than Words))

Tyler felt... charged, almost. Optimistic. He moved at a light jog, carefully marshalling his breathing to ensure he didn't get winded, his fitness ensuring that he was having no trouble moving around quickly. Seven people had been given the word now, seven people less that would want to play, seven people that... well, even if they dismissed him, they'd have the seed of the idea in their mind. That was good enough, right?

It should be, anyhow. Tyler didn't claim to be some sort of cunning speechmaker or charismatic leader, but... he knew a little about how people worked, he supposed. Often a suggestion was enough to actually nudge a person into doing the right thing. Perhaps not change their views on something like this so completely, but at the very least, give them pause for thought. It had worked back at school, now and then, when he'd told other wrestlers that it wasn't winning that mattered, it was the experience, or when he'd mentioned to people that they could use some extra hands that time he'd volunteered to help construct a float for that parade in the General's honour...

His loping stride ate up the ground. Tyler had stripped out of his tracksuit as soon as he'd decided he'd be better off running, early that morning. His physique was very evident through his tank top and running shorts, close cut head whipping from side to side, searching, searching...

For people to spread the word to.

Then along came Brigadier-General David Adams to put a dent in his day. Tyler slowed to listen, still walking. He winced as the names started up, both killers and the dead. These were classmates, these were people he knew, just as he knew almost everyone in his year group. Maybe.. well, maybe not the minority kids, which he kind've regretted, but...

Bryant.

Tyler's eyes widened, then his face fell. He'd... spread the word to Bryant.

...And Bryant had killed anyway.

"Dammit."

Tyler stopped walking, fell to his hands and knees.

"Dammit!"


((David Burn continued from Viva La Raza))


It wasn't a very nice conclusion to have to draw, but what was becoming more and more clear to Dave was that this compound was fucking inescapable. Couldn't climb out, walls were too damn high, couldn't dig out, because fucking concrete, genius, and sure as hell couldn't knock on the gate and ask nicely.

Well, inescapable... but not impossible to get out of. Which meant that really, there was only one solution, didn't it? Not that Dave was some kind of psycho nutcase, but seriously, if it were any one of these brainless assholes that were his classmates... or him? Then David fucking Burn all the way, boss. Selfish, maybe, but at least he was honest about it.

Standing in an alley of sorts between a building and the wall, Dave caught sight of Tyler dropping to his knees right alongside the insurmountable obstacle. He licked his lips, looked from his pipe wrench, to Tyler, back to the pipe wrench.

"Alright Janice," he muttered. "Let's fuck a bitch up."

---

"Dammit!" Tyler said for the third time, straightening up and placing his palm against the wall in front of him.

Okay.

Setback.

Keep it cool, keep it cool.

It wasn't the end of the world. This was never going to be a complete and utter walk in the park now, was it? Anyway, he didn't know the exact circumstances, maybe Michael provoked Bryant, maybe he outright attacked him, unpleasant a thought as that was to entertain. Too much he didn't know to be able to say anything for an outright sur-

Footsteps.

Tyler looked up and around, then smiled. David Burn, he recognised the kid. Type of guy that was perfectly fine with his friends, but pretty quiet most of the rest of the time, from what Tyler knew of him. Rocked at math, which wasn't exactly Tyler's strongest suit. Solved most of the problems before Tyler could figure out what they were asking.

Picking himself up, Tyler continued to smile as Dave approached, a slight frown on his face. The wrestler opened his mouth to say a greeting and then suddenly Dave was swinging at him, the wrench in his hand coming around in a brutal arc directed straight at Tyler's head-

-Tyler slipped the strike, more on instinct than anything else, though the metal still impacted against his shoulder with a meaty, painful thunk that tore a cry from Tyler's mouth. At that point, Tyler went into auto-pilot, not thinking, not reasoning, just defence.

On the rebound, Dave swung again. Tyler ducked underneath this one, dipping beneath Dave's arm, sliding behind him-

"CALM!"

Tyler's arms wrapped around Dave's waist with ease, taking advantage of his size. Gripping tightly, Tyler threw all of his power into lifting Dave up-

"DOWN!"

Tyler hurled Dave up and over his head, keeping the waistlock sunk tightly in, hoping to daze his assailant long enough that he could actually be reasoned wit-

Dave's head hit the concrete of the ground at an unnatural angle.

A sharp crack echoed throughout the area.

"...D-Dave!?"


M01, DAVID BURN: DECEASED

[Namira]

"Dave? Dave? Come on man, quit yanking my chain. Dave! Dave!"

David Byrne's neck was twisted horribly to one side, flopping back and forth as Tyler took him by the shoulders and shook him desperately. There was no possible way that this could be happening, there was no way that he had just k...killed someone?

Tyler shook Dom again. There was no response. His eyes were wide open, blank, the pipe wrench having fallen from limp fingers long ago. Tyler stared for a couple of seconds, then lowered Dave to the ground gently.

"You... you idiot!" Tyler yelled at the corpse, holding his shaven head in his hands. "Why the heck did you have to come at me like that!?" Tyler's shoulder throbbed, the pain a reminder of exactly what Dave had been attempting. There was murder in the guy's eyes. But...

Had he deserved this?

Of course not. None of them did, none of them ever would, regardless of how many they killed. They didn't pick to be in the Program. The lottery did that. Fair as it got.

"Fair..." Tyler muttered. "Somebody give me a hand to define that?"

He'd killed somebody. After all of everything, he'd just switched into auto-pilot and...

"I... I didn't mean it," Tyler looked up, around, roving, desperate eyes trying to locate a camera. "I... it was an accident! I didn't think and I just... I was only trying to calm him down, get him to t-think for a second!"

Tyler gave a long sniff, then rubbed his eyes with the back of his arm.

He stood, turned away from the body, and didn't look back.

A fire was in his eyes.

((Tyler Blake concluded in Patriot))