Contest of Champions

22

"WASSUP!"

The interviewer of the contenders for the Contest of Champions runs out on stage, wearing suit pants and a dress shirt and tie without the suit jacket. Applause ripples from the audience as Luis takes his place in the center of the stage, hands lifted.

All twenty-four of the contenders march out onto the stage, moving behind Luis to our designated seats. Sif and I lead, as our seats are at the end of the row. As we all reach our seats, we turn to face the audience.

"Let's give it up for the contenders for the 36th Contest of Champions!" Luis announces. "The last Space Games, yo! And tonight we get to hear their stories, know what I'm saying?"

With that we're allowed to take our seats to uproarious applause. The male contenders from each district will be interviewed first, and then the females, with Wakanda first and Asgard last.

Luis calls Erik Killmonger, dressed just in black pants and a black jacket over a bare chest, up to talk. The two of them go over Killmonger's war record and when Luis asks him if he knows the number of kills he's racked up over the years, the Wakandan strips off his jacket, casting it to the ground, and clearly displays the multitude of circular bumps that cover his abdomen and arms. A fang necklace dangles from his neck.

"Every mark represents someone killed!" Killmonger exclaims, spreading his arms out. "And I will be adding many more to their number before this Contest is over!"

Clint Barton, dressed in a similar uniform to the one from the opening ceremonies, answers all questions seriously. He listens, gives a moment of thought, and then answers. He gets asked about his family, at one point, and his voices drops as he briefly talks about his wife and three children. The audience is sympathetic for the man who gave up everything to save his son.

Brock Rumlow is next, and he answers everything in an ominous tone, giving a sinister smile as he does so. I rub my hand on the fabric of my pants leg and then stop, breathing out softly.

Peter Parker stands up as Luis calls his name. He's dressed in a tuxedo, with his hair damp and slicked back, and he looks scared. He walks up to Luis and wrings his hands, taking a deep breath to settle his nerves.

"So, Peter Parker," Luis says. "The Spiderman. What gives you that name?"

"I'm good at...swinging," Peter says lamely. "And climbing."

Luis nods. "I heard you had the Stark internship, bro! What's that like?"

"It's great," Peter says, exhaling. "I mean, it was great, I guess. But...yeah. Now I'm here."

As Peter sits down, sighing in relief, Wong comes forward and he discusses one name celebrities with Luis until his time is up. Then the frost giant, Raze, does his interview before Pietro Maximoff strides forward.

"How you doing, man?" Luis asks, clapping Pietro on the shoulder. "So, what do you think gives you the potential to win this?"

"I've got a little picture," Pietro says, glancing out at the audience. "Of my sister. She won. I will win. We will be together. We've all we've got left, anyway."

There's a sigh from the audience. I roll my eyes.

Yon-Rogg strides up to take Pietro's place with Luis. Their conversation somehow turns into a discussion of Hala's Supreme Intelligence and Luis asks Yon-Rogg who he saw when he communed with the Supreme Intelligence before coming to Titan.

"You see someone whom you most admire," Yon-Rogg replies, dodging the real question.

"But who do you see?" Luis presses.

"No Kree ever reveals who they see," Yon-Rogg says steadily.

"Do you see your father? Your brother?" Luis pauses, glances over his shoulder. "Or perhaps you see your crazy stupid fine district partner?"

Yon-Rogg gives an amused smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "No."

Luis gestures back to Veers, who smirks. "But you see that girl he's with? Isn't she stupid fine?"

The crowd roars assent, calling back "Crazy stupid fine!" and they applaud as Yon-Rogg takes his seat, looking exasperated as Veers grins at him and gives him a shove on the shoulder.

Drax comes forward, standing with his legs slightly apart and his thumbs hooked into his belt. "So," Luis begins. "A guy like you can probably make short work of your competitors, is that right? You come in, fight them hard, and then –" Luis slides his finger across his throat. "You get me?"

"Why would I place my finger on their throats?" Drax asks, looking genuinely puzzled.

"No," Luis says, wrinkling his brow. "It's a metaphor, man! It means kill!"

"Then say kill," Drax asserts.

"It's fine, you know?" Luis says to appease him. "Sometimes things just go over your head."

"Nothing goes over my head," Drax insists. "My reflexes are too fast. I would catch it."

Luis laughs, almost a little uneasily. "So, I can tell you're a determined warrior, but is there anything else we should know about you, Drax the Destroyer?"

"I can stand so still, it is like I am invisible," Drax says. "No one can see me then." He then proceeds to not move for the remainder of his time, while Luis gives him a strange look.

Then it's Cletus Kasady's turn.

The serial killer stalks forward. He's still in a straitjacket, a black one that looks almost like a suit jacket. And when Luis asks him about what he thinks will occur in the Contest, he cocks his head and addresses the audience.

"I'm going to be freed from these restraints in there. And when that happens...there's going to be carnage."

Lovely, that.

Hogun's answers are short and to the point, and then he's done. It's my turn.

I stand.