New fic idea
Here's the prologue for a fic I'd like to try out, it's and X-men fanfic for the JP/Bobby pairing.
Bobby decided that he did not like Mojoworld.
Nor did he like standing in the midst of jostling spectators, pressed in and knocked around as they cheered and waved. Jumping and screaming demands for more blood more death followed by the occasional chanting of a favorite winner’s name was interspersed with bets and the passing of currency. Bobby had a lot of experience with heartless villains and sadistic bastards, but never in his whole time as an X-Man had he been surrounded by so many cruel individuals at one time.
Shatterstar had explained to the team what they would witness, but the reality was like a physical blow, harsh and sudden. Contenders were thrust into the arena, and under the scrutiny of both bloodthirsty spectators and blazing hot sun, there was only one goal.
Survive.
Bobby hated every bit of this planet, from its cruel inhabitants and their sick sports, to the stinging smell of blood mixed with sand and the multiple suns that kept night from ever falling. He did his best to look relaxed, just another cloaked spectator, but it was hard to do when he had to watch one contender brutally finish off his opponent with a decapitating strike. The crowd went nuts, whooping and cheering wildly as blood sprayed across the arena.
The winner of the match, a six-armed brute that was rising quickly through the ranks, seemed to share the crowds enjoyment at the kill, grinning maliciously as he was ushered back into on opening in the arena wall, which Bobby assumed led to the cell blocks. As those doors closed, another set opened and a pair of guards roughly shoved a new participant into the open. The alien was tall and gangly and Bobby couldn’t tell if its thin build was from starvation or genetics. Either way, the creature looked newly captured, inexperience showing through the way it held its weapon, a short serrated sword, and the sheer terror on its face.
The crowd settled down some, a sense of dark excitement settling over them. Bobby knew what was coming, he’d seen the fight listing for betting pools, this next opponent had mixed reviews, he never lost a fight and should have been considered a top level combatant, but because he almost always spared his opponent’s lives, he was considered weak by many. Apparently this crowd was willing to overlook that flaw for the moment as a quiet chant began to fill the stadium, growing in energy and volume with every repetition.
A figure emerged from the doorway amidst the chanting cries and Bobby had to use every ounce of will he had not to throw himself into the ring. He’d known, it was his mission after all, but looking at the name on paper and experiencing the reality of it were two completely different things. Just barely holding himself back, Bobby watched the newcomer approach the center of the field wearing a grim expression.
The crowd’s chant had reached thunderous volumes and Bobby’s very thoughts were drowned out by the repetitious cries of one name.
Northstar! Northstar! Northstar!
Bobby decided that he did not like Mojoworld.
Nor did he like standing in the midst of jostling spectators, pressed in and knocked around as they cheered and waved. Jumping and screaming demands for more blood more death followed by the occasional chanting of a favorite winner’s name was interspersed with bets and the passing of currency. Bobby had a lot of experience with heartless villains and sadistic bastards, but never in his whole time as an X-Man had he been surrounded by so many cruel individuals at one time.
Shatterstar had explained to the team what they would witness, but the reality was like a physical blow, harsh and sudden. Contenders were thrust into the arena, and under the scrutiny of both bloodthirsty spectators and blazing hot sun, there was only one goal.
Survive.
Bobby hated every bit of this planet, from its cruel inhabitants and their sick sports, to the stinging smell of blood mixed with sand and the multiple suns that kept night from ever falling. He did his best to look relaxed, just another cloaked spectator, but it was hard to do when he had to watch one contender brutally finish off his opponent with a decapitating strike. The crowd went nuts, whooping and cheering wildly as blood sprayed across the arena.
The winner of the match, a six-armed brute that was rising quickly through the ranks, seemed to share the crowds enjoyment at the kill, grinning maliciously as he was ushered back into on opening in the arena wall, which Bobby assumed led to the cell blocks. As those doors closed, another set opened and a pair of guards roughly shoved a new participant into the open. The alien was tall and gangly and Bobby couldn’t tell if its thin build was from starvation or genetics. Either way, the creature looked newly captured, inexperience showing through the way it held its weapon, a short serrated sword, and the sheer terror on its face.
The crowd settled down some, a sense of dark excitement settling over them. Bobby knew what was coming, he’d seen the fight listing for betting pools, this next opponent had mixed reviews, he never lost a fight and should have been considered a top level combatant, but because he almost always spared his opponent’s lives, he was considered weak by many. Apparently this crowd was willing to overlook that flaw for the moment as a quiet chant began to fill the stadium, growing in energy and volume with every repetition.
A figure emerged from the doorway amidst the chanting cries and Bobby had to use every ounce of will he had not to throw himself into the ring. He’d known, it was his mission after all, but looking at the name on paper and experiencing the reality of it were two completely different things. Just barely holding himself back, Bobby watched the newcomer approach the center of the field wearing a grim expression.
The crowd’s chant had reached thunderous volumes and Bobby’s very thoughts were drowned out by the repetitious cries of one name.
Northstar! Northstar! Northstar!