Allo again folks. With the great awesomeness that came around in the last fic challenge and the enthusiastic responses, I thought it would be cool to submit another challenge.
This challenge has to involve: fourth quarter holidays, a festive activity, 4400 characters, someone using an ability, funky weather (not necessarily snow), and to make it a little challenging....some kind of holiday food OR clothing.
Please note: this does not have to be about Christmas. It could even be a made up holiday, as long as its celebrated during the fourth quarter.
Same non-rules apply. No limit, no deadline.
Just have fun!
If this challenge gets the same response the last one had, wait till you see what's coming!
Full Version: Holiday Fic Challenge
Awesome, sounds great. You know I think I will in fact do a Christmas fic. Since the show runs during the summers and we don't get holiday episodes, it would be fun to do a 4400 Christmas.
Hi Bubba here, I might give it a whirl.
This is the first part of my first story. I hope you like....
"What's So Wonderful About This Life?"
Original Air Date: 12/23/07
Inside the PFTF Lab
Two masked figures stand in the shadows, looking up at a giant wall of televisions. Each one is focused on the events surrounding one of the 4400s. Their job is to watch the screens and submit reports about the activities of the 4400s and P+s to the Council.
Technician 1 (somberly): Bad news.
Technician 2 (looking over at T1): What is?
T1: Jordan Collier is contemplating suicide.
T2 (not sure what he just heard): He is comtemplating what?
T1: Suicide. According the brain scans, he feels his work is in vain.
T2 (confused): Didn't we give him the ego of fifty men when we pumped his skull full of promicin?
T1: There are things even promicin won't fix.
T2 (anxious about going before to the Council): And what are we going to do about this?
T1: We could always make him a martryr for the cause...
T2: I don't believe that will serve our long-term purposes. The only place martyrs seem to congregate is in the history books. We need him alive.
T1: What if we manipulated his promicin levels? Make him permanently happy?
T2: The Cosmic Oprah wouldn't be happy about that. The last time we interferred in the timeline, Nina Jarvis disappeared entirely.
T1: Then what are we supposed to do? Send him an autographed copy of the Gay 4400 Does Christmas?
T2: Uh, no. Although in all honesty, the crooning of Patrick Flueger does put me in the mood....
T1: I always wondered why we took Shawn when the Council had settled on Kyle. Now, I wished I didn't know...
T2: So, I was thinking of a 4400 Intervention...
T1: Which one?
T2: Claudio.
T1: Claudio?
T2: Who did you think I was going to suggest? Alana? Unfortunately, our budget doesn't allow for such luxuries. You affect the future with the abilities you got, not the abilities you wish you had.
T1: I'm just surprised, that's all. I've always loved his ability, but then again, I did think that one up myself...
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Inside the Promise City Bar and Grill
Jordan sits at a table picking at a grilled tomato, basil, and mozzerrella cheese sandwich. A woman walks into the resturant and after talking with the waitress, is escorted over to Jordan's table. She sits down across from Jordan, eliciting a brief but forlorned smile from Jordan.
Jordan: Thanks for meeting me on such short notice, Heather.
Heather Tobey: You know it wasn't a problem, Jordan.
Jordan: How's Shawn? I miss him...
HT: He's doing physically well, but losing his brother and mother in the same week really shook him up. Outside of official Center work, he locks himself up in his room. But I'm sure you didn't ask to meet with me just to discuss Shawn.
Jordan (stirs his Bloody Mary lazily): Can I ask you something?
HT: Sure.... I guess.
Jordan (looking down at his plate): Does your ability also work on adults?
HT: What do you mean?
Jordan: You look into the eyes of a little child and you draw out their purpose in life, and---
HT (gently interrupting): ---You want to know if my ability works the same in adults.
Jordan (looking up into Heather's eyes): Yeah.
HT: My experience with using my ability on adults is rather limited afraid. However, it seems my ability only perfects what is already there, rather than drawing something totally new out.
Jordan: Could you try and use your ability on me?
HT: You sure you want that? I don't see much use in it....
Jordan: Please, Heather. I need this.
HT: Ok, I'll try, but I can't promise anything.
Jordan (back to stirring his Bloody Mary): I know... just please try.
Heather gently pulls Jordan's face up until they are eye to eye. Heather uses her ability, seeing something deep inside his subconcious. She tries to grab for it with her mind, but the unknown quantity recludes even deeper. Eventually, she grows tired and pulls back.
Heather Tobey: How do you feel?
Jordan: The same.
HT: May I ask you what this is all about?
Jordan is about to answer, when someone from Promise City comes and tells Jordan about some problem in the Promise City Senate. He excuses himself, thanking Heather Tobey for her time, and promising to call her sometime.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside Jordan's Office at City Hall Several Hours Later
Jordan sat at his desk, filling out paperwork. It had been months since he had risen to power on the back of the promicin plague. He had thought things would be different; he would be leading a great revolution across the United States. Instead, he spend most of his days, settling petty disputes and filling out paperwork.
He is disturbed from the quiet monotony by a knock on the door.
Jordan: Come in.
Delilah: Jordan, we were wondering if you planned on closing down government offices soon? The weather man said a freak snow storm is headed towards Seattle.
Jordan flips on the television. The news stations all confirm Deliliah's account.
Jordan: Go ahead and close down all non-essential offices. Also alert all the pyromanic promicin positives and have them readied in case we need them to clear roads and such.
Deliliah (taking notes): Anything else, Jordan?
Jordan: Thank you for pointing this out to me. I would have cost the city thousands in running services not needed with everyone staying inside because of the snow. Do wish all the staff a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays for me.
Deliliah: You're welcome sir. And don't wory about locking up.
Jordan goes back to work.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside Jordan's Office At City Hall, Hours Later
Jordan: Damn work!
Jordan throws the paperwork at the wall. It scatters as it flies through the air, leaving Jordan's office a mess.
Jordan rubs his eyes. How could he not realize he was so fatigued before?
Jordan: Maybe I just need to take a break.
Jordan pours himself a Jack and Coke and reclines in his chair. Jordan flips on the television.
Jordan: I hope A Charlie Brown Christmas is on. That always lifted my spirits. Maybe How the Grinch Stole Christmas will be on tonight, too.
News Reporter: We interrupt A Christmas Story to bring you this important development. Two 4400 were brutually beat up today in Central Park after using their abilities to grant holiday wishes to the homeless children in New York. According to eyewitness reports, one of the assailants was reported as saying, "We don't need no freaking charity from a bunch of needle fairies."
More news on this case as it becomes available.
*Flip*
Maury Povich: Today on Maury, people who say 4400s have ruined their lives. That just begs the question: 4400s---Menace or Scourage?"
*Flip*
CNBC Broadcaster: We're here with Ben Stein who says for every person who becomes P+, the economy loses $100,000 over their lifetime in lost productivity.
Ben Stein: That's not counting the ones that die.
CNBC: And how did you make those determination?
Ben Stein: How we determined it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it does.
CNBC: Makes sense to me. I never understood why we didn't round them all up after they came back and hung them one by one.
*Flip*
Jordan: Ah, finally, somethng nice and wholesome...
News Reporter: We interrupt current programming to bring you this important news development. Police are currently in a high speed chase after three 4400s took off after police came to their apartment in Seattle to arrest them. According to police, the 4400 had killed the daughter of Coucilwoman Maria Valquez after she refused to vote for the 4400 Equal Rights Admendment to the Seattle Charter. The other two are wanted for aiding and abetting.
*Flip*
Pat Robertson: It's now that time on the 700 Club where we answer viewer questions.
Question: How should we react to the 4400s and the new batches of P+s created each day?
Pat Robertson: Personally, the best method is with a shovel and an empty grave. Hit them over the head with a shovel and then throw them into the nearest empty grave. But short of that, treat them like any virus--- stay away from them. They are a scourage from God, sent to be our punishment for straying from the principles God laid down. We are sinful nation, friends, and we will only be cleansed when we turn from our evil ways...
Jordan flipped off the television, slamming the remote on his desk.
Jordan: What ever happened to peace on earth, goodwill towards men?
Jordan chugs Jack and Cokes for most of the night. After a while, he reaches into his desk and pulls out two syringes. The first is filled with industrial strenght Inhibitor. The second, a substance to induce metabolic shock.
Jordan toys with them in his hands, feeling he has done nothing but made everyone antangonistic towards the 4400.
Then, he injects them into his arm.
Jordan: At least my death will look like the result of the snow storm. No need in depressing the citizens of Promise City.
Then Jordan falls to the floor, his world fades to black.
"What's So Wonderful About This Life?"
Original Air Date: 12/23/07
Inside the PFTF Lab
Two masked figures stand in the shadows, looking up at a giant wall of televisions. Each one is focused on the events surrounding one of the 4400s. Their job is to watch the screens and submit reports about the activities of the 4400s and P+s to the Council.
Technician 1 (somberly): Bad news.
Technician 2 (looking over at T1): What is?
T1: Jordan Collier is contemplating suicide.
T2 (not sure what he just heard): He is comtemplating what?
T1: Suicide. According the brain scans, he feels his work is in vain.
T2 (confused): Didn't we give him the ego of fifty men when we pumped his skull full of promicin?
T1: There are things even promicin won't fix.
T2 (anxious about going before to the Council): And what are we going to do about this?
T1: We could always make him a martryr for the cause...
T2: I don't believe that will serve our long-term purposes. The only place martyrs seem to congregate is in the history books. We need him alive.
T1: What if we manipulated his promicin levels? Make him permanently happy?
T2: The Cosmic Oprah wouldn't be happy about that. The last time we interferred in the timeline, Nina Jarvis disappeared entirely.
T1: Then what are we supposed to do? Send him an autographed copy of the Gay 4400 Does Christmas?
T2: Uh, no. Although in all honesty, the crooning of Patrick Flueger does put me in the mood....
T1: I always wondered why we took Shawn when the Council had settled on Kyle. Now, I wished I didn't know...
T2: So, I was thinking of a 4400 Intervention...
T1: Which one?
T2: Claudio.
T1: Claudio?
T2: Who did you think I was going to suggest? Alana? Unfortunately, our budget doesn't allow for such luxuries. You affect the future with the abilities you got, not the abilities you wish you had.
T1: I'm just surprised, that's all. I've always loved his ability, but then again, I did think that one up myself...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside the Promise City Bar and Grill
Jordan sits at a table picking at a grilled tomato, basil, and mozzerrella cheese sandwich. A woman walks into the resturant and after talking with the waitress, is escorted over to Jordan's table. She sits down across from Jordan, eliciting a brief but forlorned smile from Jordan.
Jordan: Thanks for meeting me on such short notice, Heather.
Heather Tobey: You know it wasn't a problem, Jordan.
Jordan: How's Shawn? I miss him...
HT: He's doing physically well, but losing his brother and mother in the same week really shook him up. Outside of official Center work, he locks himself up in his room. But I'm sure you didn't ask to meet with me just to discuss Shawn.
Jordan (stirs his Bloody Mary lazily): Can I ask you something?
HT: Sure.... I guess.
Jordan (looking down at his plate): Does your ability also work on adults?
HT: What do you mean?
Jordan: You look into the eyes of a little child and you draw out their purpose in life, and---
HT (gently interrupting): ---You want to know if my ability works the same in adults.
Jordan (looking up into Heather's eyes): Yeah.
HT: My experience with using my ability on adults is rather limited afraid. However, it seems my ability only perfects what is already there, rather than drawing something totally new out.
Jordan: Could you try and use your ability on me?
HT: You sure you want that? I don't see much use in it....
Jordan: Please, Heather. I need this.
HT: Ok, I'll try, but I can't promise anything.
Jordan (back to stirring his Bloody Mary): I know... just please try.
Heather gently pulls Jordan's face up until they are eye to eye. Heather uses her ability, seeing something deep inside his subconcious. She tries to grab for it with her mind, but the unknown quantity recludes even deeper. Eventually, she grows tired and pulls back.
Heather Tobey: How do you feel?
Jordan: The same.
HT: May I ask you what this is all about?
Jordan is about to answer, when someone from Promise City comes and tells Jordan about some problem in the Promise City Senate. He excuses himself, thanking Heather Tobey for her time, and promising to call her sometime.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside Jordan's Office at City Hall Several Hours Later
Jordan sat at his desk, filling out paperwork. It had been months since he had risen to power on the back of the promicin plague. He had thought things would be different; he would be leading a great revolution across the United States. Instead, he spend most of his days, settling petty disputes and filling out paperwork.
He is disturbed from the quiet monotony by a knock on the door.
Jordan: Come in.
Delilah: Jordan, we were wondering if you planned on closing down government offices soon? The weather man said a freak snow storm is headed towards Seattle.
Jordan flips on the television. The news stations all confirm Deliliah's account.
Jordan: Go ahead and close down all non-essential offices. Also alert all the pyromanic promicin positives and have them readied in case we need them to clear roads and such.
Deliliah (taking notes): Anything else, Jordan?
Jordan: Thank you for pointing this out to me. I would have cost the city thousands in running services not needed with everyone staying inside because of the snow. Do wish all the staff a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays for me.
Deliliah: You're welcome sir. And don't wory about locking up.
Jordan goes back to work.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside Jordan's Office At City Hall, Hours Later
Jordan: Damn work!
Jordan throws the paperwork at the wall. It scatters as it flies through the air, leaving Jordan's office a mess.
Jordan rubs his eyes. How could he not realize he was so fatigued before?
Jordan: Maybe I just need to take a break.
Jordan pours himself a Jack and Coke and reclines in his chair. Jordan flips on the television.
Jordan: I hope A Charlie Brown Christmas is on. That always lifted my spirits. Maybe How the Grinch Stole Christmas will be on tonight, too.
News Reporter: We interrupt A Christmas Story to bring you this important development. Two 4400 were brutually beat up today in Central Park after using their abilities to grant holiday wishes to the homeless children in New York. According to eyewitness reports, one of the assailants was reported as saying, "We don't need no freaking charity from a bunch of needle fairies."
More news on this case as it becomes available.
*Flip*
Maury Povich: Today on Maury, people who say 4400s have ruined their lives. That just begs the question: 4400s---Menace or Scourage?"
*Flip*
CNBC Broadcaster: We're here with Ben Stein who says for every person who becomes P+, the economy loses $100,000 over their lifetime in lost productivity.
Ben Stein: That's not counting the ones that die.
CNBC: And how did you make those determination?
Ben Stein: How we determined it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it does.
CNBC: Makes sense to me. I never understood why we didn't round them all up after they came back and hung them one by one.
*Flip*
Jordan: Ah, finally, somethng nice and wholesome...
News Reporter: We interrupt current programming to bring you this important news development. Police are currently in a high speed chase after three 4400s took off after police came to their apartment in Seattle to arrest them. According to police, the 4400 had killed the daughter of Coucilwoman Maria Valquez after she refused to vote for the 4400 Equal Rights Admendment to the Seattle Charter. The other two are wanted for aiding and abetting.
*Flip*
Pat Robertson: It's now that time on the 700 Club where we answer viewer questions.
Question: How should we react to the 4400s and the new batches of P+s created each day?
Pat Robertson: Personally, the best method is with a shovel and an empty grave. Hit them over the head with a shovel and then throw them into the nearest empty grave. But short of that, treat them like any virus--- stay away from them. They are a scourage from God, sent to be our punishment for straying from the principles God laid down. We are sinful nation, friends, and we will only be cleansed when we turn from our evil ways...
Jordan flipped off the television, slamming the remote on his desk.
Jordan: What ever happened to peace on earth, goodwill towards men?
Jordan chugs Jack and Cokes for most of the night. After a while, he reaches into his desk and pulls out two syringes. The first is filled with industrial strenght Inhibitor. The second, a substance to induce metabolic shock.
Jordan toys with them in his hands, feeling he has done nothing but made everyone antangonistic towards the 4400.
Then, he injects them into his arm.
Jordan: At least my death will look like the result of the snow storm. No need in depressing the citizens of Promise City.
Then Jordan falls to the floor, his world fades to black.
Wow, PromicinJunkie, a grim vision for the holidays. I hope Jordan can snap out it. Perhaps, a call to Shawn is in order.
Where's Kyle? (Not that he's preferable.)
Where's Kyle? (Not that he's preferable.)
QUOTE (Original4400 @ Nov 20 2007, 03:49 PM) 
Wow, PromicinJunkie, a grim vision for the holidays. I hope Jordan can snap out it. Perhaps, a call to Shawn is in order.
Where's Kyle? (Not that he's preferable.)
Where's Kyle? (Not that he's preferable.)
Don't worry, OR, my man! It only gets cheerier, and I planned a rewrite to the last part. Also, Kyle doesn't come in to late in the story. Kyle's only fun to write for in the Gay 4400.
QUOTE (Promicinjunkie @ Nov 20 2007, 09:19 PM)
Don't worry, OR, my man! It only gets cheerier, and I planned a rewrite to the last part. Also, Kyle doesn't come in to late in the story. Kyle's only fun to write for in the Gay 4400.
Agreed on Kyle. I'd prefer to see a reconciliation of sorts between Sean and Jordan, for the Holidays if nothing else. I never wanted Shawn to be Jordan's puppet. I like that Shawn kind of grew up while Jordan was gone. But their current relationship is so much unmined Gold.
Back in the Future
Claudio Borghi, the 4400 who secretes possible futures through his skin, wakes up in one of the PFTF's exam rooms. He looks around and notices the room is pitch black, except for a small light where he is now standing. Above him, hover two white lights. He suddenly gets the feeling he is not alone.
T1 (To T2:) He's awake.
T2: He's lucky. If he had been out any longer, I would have started electroshock treatment.
Claudio can hear voices, but can not make out what they are saying.
Claudio: Hello? Is anyone here?
T1: We are.
Claudio: Who is?
T2: If you search deep down, you will know.
Claudio: Know what?
T1: Us.
Claudio (to self): This is certainly getting me nowhere...
Claudio: Why am I here?
T2: We need your help.
T1: Rather, Jordan does.
Claudio: Why would I help someone who hides in the darkness? How do I know you're not part of the Marked, the sworn enemies of the 4400s.
The two lights begin to collide with each other, deep in conversation among themselves. Claudio can hear murmurs, but nothing resembling actual speech.
T1 (to T2): Should we trust him?
T2 (to T1): Do we have a choice really?
T1 (to T2): Jordan's already taken the shot combo. If we don't act soon, he will die.
T2 (to T1): I guess we must. All of our plans rely on Jordan.
Claudio: What is going on here?
T1: We are embassadors from the future. We kidnapped you from the past to reseed you in the timeline to save Jordan.
Claudio: Why me?
T2: We believe your ability will be most effective given the situation.
Claudio: What's wrong with Jordan?
T1: Jordan has given up on life. He believes his actions are bringing about more harm than good.
Claudio: But aren't they?
T2: Your role is not to decide the bigger picture, merely to do as you are told.
Claudio: And if I decided to do as you say, what exactly would I be doing?
T1: Talk with Jordan. Give him a couple of your famous cigars.
Claudio: Is that all? It just sounds too easy...
T1,T2: Believe us. Nothing about the War is simple.
The PFTF disappear.
Claudio Borghi, the 4400 who secretes possible futures through his skin, wakes up in one of the PFTF's exam rooms. He looks around and notices the room is pitch black, except for a small light where he is now standing. Above him, hover two white lights. He suddenly gets the feeling he is not alone.
T1 (To T2:) He's awake.
T2: He's lucky. If he had been out any longer, I would have started electroshock treatment.
Claudio can hear voices, but can not make out what they are saying.
Claudio: Hello? Is anyone here?
T1: We are.
Claudio: Who is?
T2: If you search deep down, you will know.
Claudio: Know what?
T1: Us.
Claudio (to self): This is certainly getting me nowhere...
Claudio: Why am I here?
T2: We need your help.
T1: Rather, Jordan does.
Claudio: Why would I help someone who hides in the darkness? How do I know you're not part of the Marked, the sworn enemies of the 4400s.
The two lights begin to collide with each other, deep in conversation among themselves. Claudio can hear murmurs, but nothing resembling actual speech.
T1 (to T2): Should we trust him?
T2 (to T1): Do we have a choice really?
T1 (to T2): Jordan's already taken the shot combo. If we don't act soon, he will die.
T2 (to T1): I guess we must. All of our plans rely on Jordan.
Claudio: What is going on here?
T1: We are embassadors from the future. We kidnapped you from the past to reseed you in the timeline to save Jordan.
Claudio: Why me?
T2: We believe your ability will be most effective given the situation.
Claudio: What's wrong with Jordan?
T1: Jordan has given up on life. He believes his actions are bringing about more harm than good.
Claudio: But aren't they?
T2: Your role is not to decide the bigger picture, merely to do as you are told.
Claudio: And if I decided to do as you say, what exactly would I be doing?
T1: Talk with Jordan. Give him a couple of your famous cigars.
Claudio: Is that all? It just sounds too easy...
T1,T2: Believe us. Nothing about the War is simple.
The PFTF disappear.
I'm gonna try and get something posted for this in the next 10 days!
I hope this meets the challenge requirements. If not, it was still fun to write.
Chestnuts roasted over an open fire, Jack Frost (Clyde Sims) was blowing his nose, YuleTide carols were being led by Kevin, and the folks were dressed in a myriad of holiday sweaters that would never be worn for anything but a Christmas party.
Shawn watched from the bar, where he had been served a Hot Buttered Rum, and smiled. His people were celebrating. The majority of Seattle was now Promise City, but the 4400 Center had yet to be co-opted by Jordan and Kyle's goons. Those P+s that were not sold on Kyle's prophecy were welcome here.
Kevin motioned from the corner, where his makeshift band of carolers were singing “Joy To The World”. Shawn tried to politely decline, but then Tess and the other beckoned even harder. He grinned and raised his hand in surrender as he crossed the room.
“Good evening everyone,” he said, graciously. “Are you having a good time?”
“Of course,” said Kevin, waving a hand absently. “What we really want to know is why you are watching from a distance, but not participating in any of the activities.”
“Sometimes a leader needs to remain a certain degree apart,” Shawn said, knowing the words were ridiculous as they came from his mouth.
“Hogwash!” Kevin boomed.
Tess looked at Shawn with sad disapproval. “Really, Shawn, that is just nuts!”
“Nuts!” yelled Steven Clemens, from across the room. He lifted a pan of chestnuts above his head.
Shawn returned his gaze to Kevin and Tess.
“I'm not saying you're being a Scrooge, but...” Kevin chided.
“Okay, Okay,” Shawn replied with a smile. “What shall we do?”
“Sing of course,” Tess said as she gracefully stepped onto the small platform. She pointed to the space next to her and raised an eyebrow at Shawn. He obediently fell in beside her.
Kevin raised his hands to start a new song. Before starting, he mouthed the words “Jingle Bells.”
As the choir, Shawn now included, sang with festive energy, the other from around the lobby began to gather around the grand piano and the platform next to it. They all joined in singing.
Suddenly, the doors of the Center flew open and a gust of winter wind blew through the lobby. Everyone turned to a snow flurry, in the middle of the lobby, maintaining a funnel. The rest of the Center's lobby began to freeze. A glistening sheen of ice appeared on the walls, the tables, the furniture, and a dusting of snow appeared on each an every shoulder.
When the flurry dissipated, Jordan, Kyle, and Ben Larson appeared in at the top of the stairs. Larson was the snow and wind. Jordan wore a Santa hat and Kyle's man bag bulged at his hip.
“Nice trick,” Shawn said, scowling and stepping from the platform. “What are you doing here?”
Jordan opened his arms in friendship. “As you can see, none of the food or drink has been ruined. We came because Christmas is a time for family to be together. I know that there are those in your camp that have family and friends in mine. I thought what better time for a truce than Christmas.”
Jordan was so magnanimous and persuasive that Shawn would be a fool to ask them to leave.
“I agree,” Shawn said, stepping up to Kyle and Jordan to shake their hands. “We can put aside our differences, at least for tonight.”
“Bring on the Eggnog and Fruitcake, the pumpkin pie and turkey, the candy canes and presents,” Jordan called out the door.
Shawn leaned to Jordan's ear. “Cut out the Santa act and just ask them to come in. I can only take so much posturing.”
From that point on, the party went well. Shawn and Kyle shared some spiked eggnog and Jordan mixed among people. Kevin and Tess added people to their choir and the food was devoured with glee.
“I have to admit that this was a good idea, Jordan,” Shawn said, raising his mug to toast the other man.
“Thank you, Shawn. I knew that this first Christmas after losing your mother and brother might be hard. I wanted to let you know that I care about you. I've missed you.”
Shawn could sense no deception or angle in Jordan's words. His former mentor was being genuine. This was a special occasion.
“I appreciate that, Jordan,” Shawn said with a sadness in his voice. Nothing more needed to be said.
“Where is your Uncle?” Jordan asked to break the looming silence.
“This party was about the 4400,” Shawn replied, a small smile breaking at the edge of his mouth. “A 4400 Christmas.”
Chestnuts roasted over an open fire, Jack Frost (Clyde Sims) was blowing his nose, YuleTide carols were being led by Kevin, and the folks were dressed in a myriad of holiday sweaters that would never be worn for anything but a Christmas party.
Shawn watched from the bar, where he had been served a Hot Buttered Rum, and smiled. His people were celebrating. The majority of Seattle was now Promise City, but the 4400 Center had yet to be co-opted by Jordan and Kyle's goons. Those P+s that were not sold on Kyle's prophecy were welcome here.
Kevin motioned from the corner, where his makeshift band of carolers were singing “Joy To The World”. Shawn tried to politely decline, but then Tess and the other beckoned even harder. He grinned and raised his hand in surrender as he crossed the room.
“Good evening everyone,” he said, graciously. “Are you having a good time?”
“Of course,” said Kevin, waving a hand absently. “What we really want to know is why you are watching from a distance, but not participating in any of the activities.”
“Sometimes a leader needs to remain a certain degree apart,” Shawn said, knowing the words were ridiculous as they came from his mouth.
“Hogwash!” Kevin boomed.
Tess looked at Shawn with sad disapproval. “Really, Shawn, that is just nuts!”
“Nuts!” yelled Steven Clemens, from across the room. He lifted a pan of chestnuts above his head.
Shawn returned his gaze to Kevin and Tess.
“I'm not saying you're being a Scrooge, but...” Kevin chided.
“Okay, Okay,” Shawn replied with a smile. “What shall we do?”
“Sing of course,” Tess said as she gracefully stepped onto the small platform. She pointed to the space next to her and raised an eyebrow at Shawn. He obediently fell in beside her.
Kevin raised his hands to start a new song. Before starting, he mouthed the words “Jingle Bells.”
As the choir, Shawn now included, sang with festive energy, the other from around the lobby began to gather around the grand piano and the platform next to it. They all joined in singing.
Suddenly, the doors of the Center flew open and a gust of winter wind blew through the lobby. Everyone turned to a snow flurry, in the middle of the lobby, maintaining a funnel. The rest of the Center's lobby began to freeze. A glistening sheen of ice appeared on the walls, the tables, the furniture, and a dusting of snow appeared on each an every shoulder.
When the flurry dissipated, Jordan, Kyle, and Ben Larson appeared in at the top of the stairs. Larson was the snow and wind. Jordan wore a Santa hat and Kyle's man bag bulged at his hip.
“Nice trick,” Shawn said, scowling and stepping from the platform. “What are you doing here?”
Jordan opened his arms in friendship. “As you can see, none of the food or drink has been ruined. We came because Christmas is a time for family to be together. I know that there are those in your camp that have family and friends in mine. I thought what better time for a truce than Christmas.”
Jordan was so magnanimous and persuasive that Shawn would be a fool to ask them to leave.
“I agree,” Shawn said, stepping up to Kyle and Jordan to shake their hands. “We can put aside our differences, at least for tonight.”
“Bring on the Eggnog and Fruitcake, the pumpkin pie and turkey, the candy canes and presents,” Jordan called out the door.
Shawn leaned to Jordan's ear. “Cut out the Santa act and just ask them to come in. I can only take so much posturing.”
From that point on, the party went well. Shawn and Kyle shared some spiked eggnog and Jordan mixed among people. Kevin and Tess added people to their choir and the food was devoured with glee.
“I have to admit that this was a good idea, Jordan,” Shawn said, raising his mug to toast the other man.
“Thank you, Shawn. I knew that this first Christmas after losing your mother and brother might be hard. I wanted to let you know that I care about you. I've missed you.”
Shawn could sense no deception or angle in Jordan's words. His former mentor was being genuine. This was a special occasion.
“I appreciate that, Jordan,” Shawn said with a sadness in his voice. Nothing more needed to be said.
“Where is your Uncle?” Jordan asked to break the looming silence.
“This party was about the 4400,” Shawn replied, a small smile breaking at the edge of his mouth. “A 4400 Christmas.”
These stories are awesome! I love the 4400 Christmas Party!!
*runs to gather some mistletoe!*
*runs to gather some mistletoe!*
That was a great begining OR, The characters were very true to themselves... As always PJ great story!!!
Inside Jordan's Office
Ten Minutes Later
Jordan has passed out on the floor, his life hanging precariously in the balance. Jordan can subconciously feel the life slowly drain from his body as the combination of the drugs and the cold weather take effect. Even if Jordan wanted to change his mind, he had no strenght to do so.
Suddenly, a bright white light appeared in the room.
Jordan: Am I dying?
Voice from the Light: No.
Jordan: So this is not the proverbial tunnel of white light?
Voice from the Light: No, Jordan.
Jordan: Are you God?
Voice from the Light: No.
Jordan: Then who are you?
The light fades.
Claudio: It's me, Jordan. Claudio Borghi, and I've been sent to help you.
Jordan: There is nothing you can do.
Claudio: Hope is something that can never be taken away, only given away. Jordan, of all people, you were the one who taught me that.
Jordan: Then I am one people should not put their faith in. I am too broken a man for that.
Claudio: Brokenness is the essence of a hero.
Jordan: Why are we exchanging platitudes? Aren't you here to save me or something?
Claudio: Just trying to fulfill the educational portion of the show. You know how the networks are...
Jordan: Yeah. Bunch of backstabbers, they are.
Claudio: I was thinking Technicolor Mafia myself, but backstabbers works, too.
Claudio leans into Jordan and injects something into his arm.
Jordan: What did you do?
Claudio: Just gave you a few moments to reconsider your fate.
Jordan: What do you mean?
Claudio: Very powerful people believe in you Jordan, despite your current crisis of faith. They sent me to show you the way out.
Jordan: The way out?
Claudio: The way out of this current emotional desert you're in. What good is a leader if he's the one in need of leadership?
Jordan began to feel better.
Jordan: So, how are you going to do that?
Ten Minutes Later
Jordan has passed out on the floor, his life hanging precariously in the balance. Jordan can subconciously feel the life slowly drain from his body as the combination of the drugs and the cold weather take effect. Even if Jordan wanted to change his mind, he had no strenght to do so.
Suddenly, a bright white light appeared in the room.
Jordan: Am I dying?
Voice from the Light: No.
Jordan: So this is not the proverbial tunnel of white light?
Voice from the Light: No, Jordan.
Jordan: Are you God?
Voice from the Light: No.
Jordan: Then who are you?
The light fades.
Claudio: It's me, Jordan. Claudio Borghi, and I've been sent to help you.
Jordan: There is nothing you can do.
Claudio: Hope is something that can never be taken away, only given away. Jordan, of all people, you were the one who taught me that.
Jordan: Then I am one people should not put their faith in. I am too broken a man for that.
Claudio: Brokenness is the essence of a hero.
Jordan: Why are we exchanging platitudes? Aren't you here to save me or something?
Claudio: Just trying to fulfill the educational portion of the show. You know how the networks are...
Jordan: Yeah. Bunch of backstabbers, they are.
Claudio: I was thinking Technicolor Mafia myself, but backstabbers works, too.
Claudio leans into Jordan and injects something into his arm.
Jordan: What did you do?
Claudio: Just gave you a few moments to reconsider your fate.
Jordan: What do you mean?
Claudio: Very powerful people believe in you Jordan, despite your current crisis of faith. They sent me to show you the way out.
Jordan: The way out?
Claudio: The way out of this current emotional desert you're in. What good is a leader if he's the one in need of leadership?
Jordan began to feel better.
Jordan: So, how are you going to do that?
Claudio: By using my ability to help you.
Jordan (rolls eyes): Oh great! A cigar-rolling Cuban is going to help the guy who is supposed to convince the world, agianst their better judgement, to take a substance that is going to kill them half the time if they're right-handed, and at least 10% of the time if they're left handed.
Claudio: Sometimes the ant is mightier than the grasshopper, and the tortoise mightier than the hare.
Jordan: My my! The future finally decides to help, and they send a walking book of cliches and maxims. Where were they when the 4400 were slaughtered by the bigots, poisoned by the government, and harrassed by the non-P+s? (spits on the ground behind him) I'll tell you! Sitting on their asses playing tiddlywinks!
Claudio: Look Jordan! I personally don't want to be here anymore than you do. I understand your hatred towards the PFTF, but please stop taking it out on me. Just let me do my job, and then you can die uninterrupted if you wish.
Jordan (sighing): Is that all we are doing Claudio? Rushing around so we can die in peace?
Claudio: Death is never peaceful, Jordan. With each death, a gaping hole is torn in the fabric of humanity that never quite gets fully repaired. Eventually, it becomes all ragged and it doesn't resemble a blanket anymore, only a few tattered pieces of fabric loosely held together with a thread or two and a prayer.
Jordan: Then what is the point of all of this, Claudio? Why were we abducted, altered, and sent back to avoid a fate that's inevitable?
Jordan moves over to his chair and sits down.
Claudio: Jordan, I honestly don't know the answers to the questions you're asking, but I have something that may help you.
Jordan (raising eyebrow): Oh?
Claudio hands him a pair of cigars.
Claudio: The cigar with the red wrapper will show you a future where you die tonight. The one with the blue wrapper is if you never existed. Smoke either or both; that choice is up to you. But in thirty minutes, if you still believe that your, no our, struggle has been in vain, you'll be free to end your life. Good night and good luck, my dear friend, Jordan.
Claudio disappears in a ball of white light.
Jordan (rolls eyes): Oh great! A cigar-rolling Cuban is going to help the guy who is supposed to convince the world, agianst their better judgement, to take a substance that is going to kill them half the time if they're right-handed, and at least 10% of the time if they're left handed.
Claudio: Sometimes the ant is mightier than the grasshopper, and the tortoise mightier than the hare.
Jordan: My my! The future finally decides to help, and they send a walking book of cliches and maxims. Where were they when the 4400 were slaughtered by the bigots, poisoned by the government, and harrassed by the non-P+s? (spits on the ground behind him) I'll tell you! Sitting on their asses playing tiddlywinks!
Claudio: Look Jordan! I personally don't want to be here anymore than you do. I understand your hatred towards the PFTF, but please stop taking it out on me. Just let me do my job, and then you can die uninterrupted if you wish.
Jordan (sighing): Is that all we are doing Claudio? Rushing around so we can die in peace?
Claudio: Death is never peaceful, Jordan. With each death, a gaping hole is torn in the fabric of humanity that never quite gets fully repaired. Eventually, it becomes all ragged and it doesn't resemble a blanket anymore, only a few tattered pieces of fabric loosely held together with a thread or two and a prayer.
Jordan: Then what is the point of all of this, Claudio? Why were we abducted, altered, and sent back to avoid a fate that's inevitable?
Jordan moves over to his chair and sits down.
Claudio: Jordan, I honestly don't know the answers to the questions you're asking, but I have something that may help you.
Jordan (raising eyebrow): Oh?
Claudio hands him a pair of cigars.
Claudio: The cigar with the red wrapper will show you a future where you die tonight. The one with the blue wrapper is if you never existed. Smoke either or both; that choice is up to you. But in thirty minutes, if you still believe that your, no our, struggle has been in vain, you'll be free to end your life. Good night and good luck, my dear friend, Jordan.
Claudio disappears in a ball of white light.
BUMP!
Jordan sits at his desk, gently rolling the cigars between his fingers in boredom.
Jordan: Hmm... magical cigars? What will the writers think of next?
Jordan sniffs the cigars.
Jordan: Interesting. Both cigars seem to be pre-embargo Cubans. (raises eyebrows:) And here I thought we didn't have the budget for killer props and special effects. Unless, of course, you count on the possible lung cancer I could get if I smoke these.
Jordan looks at his watch.
Jordan: Gotta kill twenty minutes until I can kill myself... again. The powers that be want me to smoke these cigars. I thought smoking was so non-PC. Puff. Oh no... we're polluting the enviroment and killing the baby seals in Anarctica or something. Puff. Don't get that smelly air on me. Hack Hack... Pass me the lung, please.
Fine. I mean it can't be worse for me than watching anything on USA... I mean, 6 hours of Becker or Psych? Who in their right minds could stomach that? Becker's what, a PG-version of House without that dude that committed suicide in the Dead Poet's Society? And Psych's gotta be some writer's desperate plea for mental health insurance....
Jordan looks down at the cigars and selects the blue one. He clips the end of the cigar and lights it.
Jordan (reluctantly): Well, here goes nothing.
Jordan: Hmm... magical cigars? What will the writers think of next?
Jordan sniffs the cigars.
Jordan: Interesting. Both cigars seem to be pre-embargo Cubans. (raises eyebrows:) And here I thought we didn't have the budget for killer props and special effects. Unless, of course, you count on the possible lung cancer I could get if I smoke these.
Jordan looks at his watch.
Jordan: Gotta kill twenty minutes until I can kill myself... again. The powers that be want me to smoke these cigars. I thought smoking was so non-PC. Puff. Oh no... we're polluting the enviroment and killing the baby seals in Anarctica or something. Puff. Don't get that smelly air on me. Hack Hack... Pass me the lung, please.
Fine. I mean it can't be worse for me than watching anything on USA... I mean, 6 hours of Becker or Psych? Who in their right minds could stomach that? Becker's what, a PG-version of House without that dude that committed suicide in the Dead Poet's Society? And Psych's gotta be some writer's desperate plea for mental health insurance....
Jordan looks down at the cigars and selects the blue one. He clips the end of the cigar and lights it.
Jordan (reluctantly): Well, here goes nothing.
QUOTE (Promicinjunkie @ Jan 4 2008, 12:33 PM)
And Psych's gotta be some writer's desperate plea for mental health insurance.... 
LOL
Jordan looks down at the cigars and selects the blue one. He clips the end of the cigar and lights it.
Jordan (reluctantly): Well, here goes nothing.
LOLJordan looks down at the cigars and selects the blue one. He clips the end of the cigar and lights it.
Jordan (reluctantly): Well, here goes nothing.
Life without Jordan? Say it isn't so!
Oooo, do we get a 'It's a Wonderful 4400 Lives' installment next? Yay!
QUOTE (Animefan @ Jan 6 2008, 08:01 PM)
Life without Jordan? Say it isn't so! Oooo, do we get a 'It's a Wonderful 4400 Lives' installment next? Yay!
Oooo, do we get a 'It's a Wonderful 4400 Lives' installment next? Yay!Actually, It's A Wonderful Life is a loose basis for this holiday episode. Life without Jordan.... exists only in the dreams on one demented writer!
QUOTE (Promicinjunkie @ Jan 7 2008, 12:48 AM)
Actually, It's A Wonderful Life is a loose basis for this holiday episode. Life without Jordan.... exists only in the dreams on one demented writer!
Hmmm, I thot u were channelling some Matrix thots.
But Wonderful Life, Jordan will be there watching life without him so it's gonna be ok. Lucky Claudio, I wonder how will he earn his "wings"
...I'll bring the popcorn.
The Blue Cigar:
Jordan woke up in his office, the lights out and everything tidied up. It looked as if whoever occupied the office had left for some sort of vacation. He walked over to the desk and flipped on a light. He moved to where the placard for the person who occupied this office and read it.
Jordan: Ryland? Mayor of Seattle? (fighting the urge to slam his fists through the walls in the room:) What the hell?
Claudio appears behind Jordan.
Claudio: Without you here, Ryland was appointed Mayor of Seattle after the Great Promicin Plague of 2007 by Rebecca Parrish. One of the supersoldiers developed a promicin distribution ability while home on leave, and after massive deaths, Ryland was given the position to help restore order.
Jordan: And hush him up, too, I bet.
Jordan (to self): If only I had that kid working for me...
Claudio: I'm sure there was a bit of self-preservation involved, Jordan.
Jordan: And so what? Are you my guardian angel or something, Claudio?
Claudio (laughs): My dear Jordan. There is no such things as angels. I'm more of a figment of your imagination brought on by the chemicals in the cigar produced by my ability.
Jordan: So then all of this is a figment of my imagination, also?
Claudio: No. This is real.
Jordan: Wait a minute. But I thought this was a rip of "It's a Wonderful Life"...
Claudio: Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. Reality is determined by one's own perception of the universe.
Jordan sits down.
Jordan (massages temples): My head hearts. All of this relativistic nonesense is make my head throb.
Jordan flips on the television.
Newscaster: The last of the Original 4400s died today in quarentine after falling down a set of stairs and breaking their neck. Orson Bailey, a high-powered lawyer before his abduction and subsequent return, was preparing an appeal to the government's forced neutralization program, according to sources inside the jail.
Megan Ameri, a legal scholar who specializes in 4400 issues, told WXPJ News this afternoon, that Bailey's appeal was likely to gain an audience, at least in the liberal 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. "However, I'm not sure what would happen to his appeal if the Justice Department is successful in moving the case in the more conservative DC Circuit."
With his death, Bailey's suit could be moot. Director Megan Doyle of NTAC, the government agency created in 2004 to oversee the returnees, promised a swift and thorough investigation into the circumstances of Bailey's death. Yet, anonymous source at the quarentine center believes the investation will go nowhere.
"There are forces that don't want to be revealed, and an investigation of the sorts Ms. Doyle wishes to undertake will be sure to show the ugly pink belly of the beast."
Orson had no surviving kin.
We will bring you more information as this case unfolds further.
Jordan woke up in his office, the lights out and everything tidied up. It looked as if whoever occupied the office had left for some sort of vacation. He walked over to the desk and flipped on a light. He moved to where the placard for the person who occupied this office and read it.
Jordan: Ryland? Mayor of Seattle? (fighting the urge to slam his fists through the walls in the room:) What the hell?
Claudio appears behind Jordan.
Claudio: Without you here, Ryland was appointed Mayor of Seattle after the Great Promicin Plague of 2007 by Rebecca Parrish. One of the supersoldiers developed a promicin distribution ability while home on leave, and after massive deaths, Ryland was given the position to help restore order.
Jordan: And hush him up, too, I bet.
Jordan (to self): If only I had that kid working for me...
Claudio: I'm sure there was a bit of self-preservation involved, Jordan.
Jordan: And so what? Are you my guardian angel or something, Claudio?
Claudio (laughs): My dear Jordan. There is no such things as angels. I'm more of a figment of your imagination brought on by the chemicals in the cigar produced by my ability.
Jordan: So then all of this is a figment of my imagination, also?
Claudio: No. This is real.
Jordan: Wait a minute. But I thought this was a rip of "It's a Wonderful Life"...
Claudio: Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. Reality is determined by one's own perception of the universe.
Jordan sits down.
Jordan (massages temples): My head hearts. All of this relativistic nonesense is make my head throb.
Jordan flips on the television.
Newscaster: The last of the Original 4400s died today in quarentine after falling down a set of stairs and breaking their neck. Orson Bailey, a high-powered lawyer before his abduction and subsequent return, was preparing an appeal to the government's forced neutralization program, according to sources inside the jail.
Megan Ameri, a legal scholar who specializes in 4400 issues, told WXPJ News this afternoon, that Bailey's appeal was likely to gain an audience, at least in the liberal 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. "However, I'm not sure what would happen to his appeal if the Justice Department is successful in moving the case in the more conservative DC Circuit."
With his death, Bailey's suit could be moot. Director Megan Doyle of NTAC, the government agency created in 2004 to oversee the returnees, promised a swift and thorough investigation into the circumstances of Bailey's death. Yet, anonymous source at the quarentine center believes the investation will go nowhere.
"There are forces that don't want to be revealed, and an investigation of the sorts Ms. Doyle wishes to undertake will be sure to show the ugly pink belly of the beast."
Orson had no surviving kin.
We will bring you more information as this case unfolds further.
Jordan: What are they talking about? We practically run Seattle, and there are thousands of us.
Claudio: After the 4400 were initially released, massive mobs began roving the streets, ready to attack anyone at the slightest sign they were a 4400. Without you here, many 4400 were killed in the wave of rioting. They were hunted merciously.
In an attempt to qualm the violence, NTAC rounded up the remaining 4400s and housed them in their quarentine building. When the government found out they could inhibit abilities, they allowed those who wanted to leave.... if only they would agree to permanent neutralization. Some chose to accept the bargain and now live in government housing communties far away from society, most negatives still distrustful of those who had abilities.
Others, those with useful abilities, the government granted waivers and essentially blackmailed into doing government buisness. After all, how do you fight against those who could put you in jail if you don't do what they say?
However, this process hasn't been perfect. There are those that NTAC was never ever to find and many of those banded together to form a NOVA group, distrubuting promicin to those who wanted it. Sometimes, they even forced it upon the unsuspecting populace. It didn't matter to them, as long as they resisted.
In turn, the government began creating their own supersoldiers, and along with NTAC, were charged with apprehending these "terrorists". And when Doctor Kevin Burkhoff threw his self into his work after the death of Tess at the hands of NOVA, he discovered promicin could be counteracted by a substanced called ubiquinone. It was then the government outlawed abilities outright, forcing everyone to be given ubiquinone.
Jordan: Surely, it wasn't that bad. The government wouldn't arbitrarily take away everyone's free will.
Just then, the door flew open, followed by an army of supersoldiers. Jordan tried taking away their abilities but nothing happened. The guards quickly arrested Jordan and started hauling him to jail on trespassing charges.
Claudio: After the 4400 were initially released, massive mobs began roving the streets, ready to attack anyone at the slightest sign they were a 4400. Without you here, many 4400 were killed in the wave of rioting. They were hunted merciously.
In an attempt to qualm the violence, NTAC rounded up the remaining 4400s and housed them in their quarentine building. When the government found out they could inhibit abilities, they allowed those who wanted to leave.... if only they would agree to permanent neutralization. Some chose to accept the bargain and now live in government housing communties far away from society, most negatives still distrustful of those who had abilities.
Others, those with useful abilities, the government granted waivers and essentially blackmailed into doing government buisness. After all, how do you fight against those who could put you in jail if you don't do what they say?
However, this process hasn't been perfect. There are those that NTAC was never ever to find and many of those banded together to form a NOVA group, distrubuting promicin to those who wanted it. Sometimes, they even forced it upon the unsuspecting populace. It didn't matter to them, as long as they resisted.
In turn, the government began creating their own supersoldiers, and along with NTAC, were charged with apprehending these "terrorists". And when Doctor Kevin Burkhoff threw his self into his work after the death of Tess at the hands of NOVA, he discovered promicin could be counteracted by a substanced called ubiquinone. It was then the government outlawed abilities outright, forcing everyone to be given ubiquinone.
Jordan: Surely, it wasn't that bad. The government wouldn't arbitrarily take away everyone's free will.
Just then, the door flew open, followed by an army of supersoldiers. Jordan tried taking away their abilities but nothing happened. The guards quickly arrested Jordan and started hauling him to jail on trespassing charges.
So are you impying that the blue cigar basically took Jordan's identity away but he still exists physically??
QUOTE (Megan3375 @ Jan 8 2008, 05:23 AM)
So are you impying that the blue cigar basically took Jordan's identity away but he still exists physically??
Meg, have you seen the cinematic classic, "It's A Wonderful Life"? In it, a character named George Bailey contemplates suicide. When he is granted his wish, he and an angel named Clarance start trekking across the town. People can see him, talk with him, and otherwise interact with him, but all that he has known, all that has made him him, no longer exists. It's a parrallel universe of nightmarish proportions! That is, in a sense, what I am trying to allude to here.
Eh, so I guess what I'm trying to say, to answer your question, is yes.
Well I have never seen it unfortunaltely, I have always meant to watch it but never seemed to catch a viewing. I don't ever rent movies either so unless it comes on one of my many movie channels or a classic cable channel I don't get a chance. Of course I know of the movie and have probably seen it around Christmas as a kid but you know how you don't pay attention to black and whites when you are a techni-color kid!!! I always watch, as an adult, those movies I was never interested in as a child and then wonder how I lived without seeing it my whole life!!!...Do you know what I mean??? Anyway I knew that is where you were going with this because I saw when you and anime where talking about it, I just had to ask for clarification and after all that I want to say thanks for the clarification!!!
I know what you're saying about old movies. I just remember watching IAWL each Christmas (Mom loved it!) and being bored, but watching it in later years and absolutely adoring it. BTW, NBC always shows it each Christmas season, usually on a Saturday night. I also grew to adore the original black and white ed. of Miracle on 34th Street.
Wow now that you say that about NBC, I remember that when I was little and it WOULD always be on a saturday, I remember it most recently my teenage years and I guess I wasn't interested then eihter...mmmm... maybe I will have to check ondemand for it I think they still have Christmas movied on there!!
Christmas movies still on demand? Interesting!
If I can recall last year it took them two weeks to take them off, Which would probably be tomorrow or the next day!
They took the free Christmas music off New Year's Eve.... depriving those poor Orthodox Christian children of festive music.... and depriving me of a few more days of good music! 
I guess I'm odd.... I love listening Christmas music until at least Ephiphany...
I guess I'm odd.... I love listening Christmas music until at least Ephiphany...
*sound of microwave beeping. Popcorn bag dumping into bowl. munch munch
Wow, PJ, this scene is almost as dark and depressing as Bedford Falls was without George's good influence. Chilling, really.
Wow, PJ, this scene is almost as dark and depressing as Bedford Falls was without George's good influence. Chilling, really.
YOu know, I'd actually like to try this, St. Nick's is a huge celebration out here, but which of the 4400 characters could possibly be lured here? wait, maybe I know... I'll see if I can make something out of it/
QUOTE (Animefan @ Jan 9 2008, 12:13 PM)
*sound of microwave beeping. Popcorn bag dumping into bowl. munch munch
Wow, PJ, this scene is almost as dark and depressing as Bedford Falls was without George's good influence. Chilling, really.
Wow, PJ, this scene is almost as dark and depressing as Bedford Falls was without George's good influence. Chilling, really.
That means I'm doing my job!
Jordan (looking towards Claudio): Why didn't my ability work?
Claudio: I told you that you don't exist in this timeline. This is all in your head.
Jordan: So this is all a mental exercise?
Claudio: Depends on how you can reconcile the fact you are being manhandled by a supersoldier with my last statement...
Jordan: Ok, then answer me this: what happened to Graham Holt?
Claudio: Without your ability to keep Seattle from going into anarchy, Graham Holt was able to take over Seattle with his power. Fear of losing the entire nation to a pimply-head loser forced Washington to send in a squad of supersoldiers in to kill him. After a bloody battle called the Day of Awakening, the supersoldiers managed to get close enough to take him out. Of course, once Holt was taken care of, the supersoldiers never left.
Just then, the supersoldier slammed Jordan in the gut with his gun.
Soldier1: Hush it up, you P+ wannabe...
Soldier2: Thinks he's talking to someone, the bloody loon...
Soldier3: Heard promicin does some wacky crap to people...
Soldier 1: Must have rotted this man's head, thinking he's some sort of modern day Jesus.
The soldiers all share a good laugh.
Soon, the soldiers and Jordan arrive at police headquarters. They take him immediately into booking, where Soldier 3 strip searches him.
Soldier 3 (whispering to Soldier 1): The wacko's got no identification...
Soldier 1: Don't worry about it. No need to ruin a perfectly good holiday for the likes of a promicin addict. Note it in your report and send him to booking, sans clothing.
Soldier 3 sends Jordan off to booking.
Soldier 2: Okay, loon, name...
Jordan: Jordan Collier.
Soldier 2 types name into the computer.
Soldier 2: There are no records on a Jordan Collier. But that might not mean anything though. Social security number.
Jordan: 069-69-6969
Soldier 2: You're making that number up. No such number has ever been issued by the SSA.
Jordan (befuddled): That has always been my Social Security Number. And my name has always been Jordan Collier. I am a powerful real estate mogul and leader of the 4400.
Soldier 2 (laughing): Maybe you did get an ability. The power of delusion.
Jordan (to self): What is going on?
Claudio appears beside him.
Claudio: It's like I've been telling you. You don't exist.
Jordan, still not believing him, ignores him. Or maybe it is because he believes Claudio he ignores him.
Jordan: I may be a criminal, but I know my rights. I want my phone call now.
Soldier 2 hands him the phone.
Jordan begins to dial the number for Kyle's cell phone.
Claudio: You''re not going to reach him...
Jordan: Why not?
Claudio: Without you being here, Kyle had no purpose. After he was sent to prison for killing Isabelle Tyler, he slowly gave up hope he could ever be normal. Then, one day, he made a noose out of his Kyco, Inc. tie and hung himself from his bed's raftors. It was not a pretty sight.
Jordan presses the clear button and begins to dial the number for Shawn. Jordan looks at Claudio, who shakes his head no.
Jordan: Why not?
Claudio: Without you to give him a place to live after Danny forced him to flee his house, Shawn took the streets. He tried to secretly heal those who were sick on the streets, but eventually his fame spread among the homeless. More and more started seeking his healing touch, until one day, he was drained of his ability because of overuse. Shawn tried to explain he needed to sleep to recharge himself, but the crowd that had gathered did not believe him, thinking he was trying to deprive them of healing, and beat him to death.
Jordan started to cry.
Jordan: Those monsters!
Claudio: I told you that you don't exist in this timeline. This is all in your head.
Jordan: So this is all a mental exercise?
Claudio: Depends on how you can reconcile the fact you are being manhandled by a supersoldier with my last statement...
Jordan: Ok, then answer me this: what happened to Graham Holt?
Claudio: Without your ability to keep Seattle from going into anarchy, Graham Holt was able to take over Seattle with his power. Fear of losing the entire nation to a pimply-head loser forced Washington to send in a squad of supersoldiers in to kill him. After a bloody battle called the Day of Awakening, the supersoldiers managed to get close enough to take him out. Of course, once Holt was taken care of, the supersoldiers never left.
Just then, the supersoldier slammed Jordan in the gut with his gun.
Soldier1: Hush it up, you P+ wannabe...
Soldier2: Thinks he's talking to someone, the bloody loon...
Soldier3: Heard promicin does some wacky crap to people...
Soldier 1: Must have rotted this man's head, thinking he's some sort of modern day Jesus.
The soldiers all share a good laugh.
Soon, the soldiers and Jordan arrive at police headquarters. They take him immediately into booking, where Soldier 3 strip searches him.
Soldier 3 (whispering to Soldier 1): The wacko's got no identification...
Soldier 1: Don't worry about it. No need to ruin a perfectly good holiday for the likes of a promicin addict. Note it in your report and send him to booking, sans clothing.
Soldier 3 sends Jordan off to booking.
Soldier 2: Okay, loon, name...
Jordan: Jordan Collier.
Soldier 2 types name into the computer.
Soldier 2: There are no records on a Jordan Collier. But that might not mean anything though. Social security number.
Jordan: 069-69-6969
Soldier 2: You're making that number up. No such number has ever been issued by the SSA.
Jordan (befuddled): That has always been my Social Security Number. And my name has always been Jordan Collier. I am a powerful real estate mogul and leader of the 4400.
Soldier 2 (laughing): Maybe you did get an ability. The power of delusion.
Jordan (to self): What is going on?
Claudio appears beside him.
Claudio: It's like I've been telling you. You don't exist.
Jordan, still not believing him, ignores him. Or maybe it is because he believes Claudio he ignores him.
Jordan: I may be a criminal, but I know my rights. I want my phone call now.
Soldier 2 hands him the phone.
Jordan begins to dial the number for Kyle's cell phone.
Claudio: You''re not going to reach him...
Jordan: Why not?
Claudio: Without you being here, Kyle had no purpose. After he was sent to prison for killing Isabelle Tyler, he slowly gave up hope he could ever be normal. Then, one day, he made a noose out of his Kyco, Inc. tie and hung himself from his bed's raftors. It was not a pretty sight.
Jordan presses the clear button and begins to dial the number for Shawn. Jordan looks at Claudio, who shakes his head no.
Jordan: Why not?
Claudio: Without you to give him a place to live after Danny forced him to flee his house, Shawn took the streets. He tried to secretly heal those who were sick on the streets, but eventually his fame spread among the homeless. More and more started seeking his healing touch, until one day, he was drained of his ability because of overuse. Shawn tried to explain he needed to sleep to recharge himself, but the crowd that had gathered did not believe him, thinking he was trying to deprive them of healing, and beat him to death.
Jordan started to cry.
Jordan: Those monsters!
Claudio shrugs.
Claudio: The future is like a ball of yarn; take out a single string and it unravels. Arrange it correctly and you knit a beautiful sweater or scarf. But look at it as a ball of yarn and you can not immediately tell what it will become.
Jordan: And what is that supposed to mean?
Claudio: It means whatever you mean it to mean.
Jordan: What do you think it means?
Claudio: All our actions cause a ripple effect.
Jordan: Then why didn't you just say that...
Claudio: Because it's more fun to toy with your mind.
Jordan trys to dial Richard's number. Again, Claudio shakes his head.
Jordan: And what is it this time, my existentialist nightmare?
Claudio: Without you to provide housing to Richard and Lilly, Lilly was killed off by the Religious Nut. Luckily Isabelle survived and Richard tried to be a good father to her. But when Kyle killed Isabelle, Richard had nothing left. He truly believed that only terrorism was the way to go. A few months later, he strapped a promicin dirty bomb onto himself and went into the middle of a busy New York Street and let it explode. Twenty thousand died that day, not counting twenty thousand that got an ability, or the ten thousand more that were injured.
Claudio: The future is like a ball of yarn; take out a single string and it unravels. Arrange it correctly and you knit a beautiful sweater or scarf. But look at it as a ball of yarn and you can not immediately tell what it will become.
Jordan: And what is that supposed to mean?
Claudio: It means whatever you mean it to mean.
Jordan: What do you think it means?
Claudio: All our actions cause a ripple effect.
Jordan: Then why didn't you just say that...
Claudio: Because it's more fun to toy with your mind.
Jordan trys to dial Richard's number. Again, Claudio shakes his head.
Jordan: And what is it this time, my existentialist nightmare?
Claudio: Without you to provide housing to Richard and Lilly, Lilly was killed off by the Religious Nut. Luckily Isabelle survived and Richard tried to be a good father to her. But when Kyle killed Isabelle, Richard had nothing left. He truly believed that only terrorism was the way to go. A few months later, he strapped a promicin dirty bomb onto himself and went into the middle of a busy New York Street and let it explode. Twenty thousand died that day, not counting twenty thousand that got an ability, or the ten thousand more that were injured.
This future is a bummer... I mean Shawn gets beat to death and Richard is a terrorist, I want Jordan to wake up and reconsider his suicide!!! Great chapters though
Jordan: Did everyone's life end in misery?
Claudio: No. Megan Doyle did ascend to the head of NTAC, where she has remained the leader of one of the government's best performing agencies for three straight years.
Jordan: Oh yeah. One insignificant character in a litany of sorrows. Gee, thanks, Claudio.
But Claudio did remind him that NTAC might be able to help him get out of this mess. After all, he was a returnee right? And NTAC was in charge of returnees...
Jordan started to dial the number for Tom Baldwin. Claudio sighed, like he already knew this was going to end badly.
Jordan looked back over at him and pressed the clear button.
Jordan: What now?
Claudio: When Kyle committed suicide and Shawn died at the hands of the homeless mob, Tom became deeply involved in NTAC. Over time, he became violently anti-4400, so much so that the future never arraigned that meeting between him and Alana. He eventually married Rebecca Parrish and now formulates official 4400 policy in Washington.
Jordan: What of Diana and Maia? It seems pretty useless for me to even attempt to dial them without you telling me their fates.
Claudio: Like in your timeline, Diana did adopt Maia, and they did live a happy, peaceful life.... for a while. But when the mobs started hunting down the 4400s after their release from quarentine, the government moved to set aside the adoption on "national security" grounds. Eventually, the government won, and Maia was taken to be nothing more than a tool of the establishment. Companies and corporations would buy tickets to speak with Maia, in hopes she would see something they could use to make themselves richer.
Diana, deeply attached to Maia, became more and more depressed, drinking herself to sleep each night with a bat of triple strenght tomato-tinis. She was forced to take an early retirement after she suffored from alcohol induced psychosis during one of her cases. She now resides in the Abington House for the Mentally Insane.
Jordan: And Marco?
Claudio: Marco, disgusted with the government treatment of the 4400s, quit NTAC shortly after the 4400 returned. He became an advocate for the 4400, often using his own money to fund research in the 4400 phenomenon. Sadly, for you, he died in a mysterious car crash a year ago.
Jordan slams the phone against the wall.
Soldier 2: That's quite enough from you, freak. You're now going straight to the holding cell.
Jordan is taken to his cell.
Claudio: No. Megan Doyle did ascend to the head of NTAC, where she has remained the leader of one of the government's best performing agencies for three straight years.
Jordan: Oh yeah. One insignificant character in a litany of sorrows. Gee, thanks, Claudio.
But Claudio did remind him that NTAC might be able to help him get out of this mess. After all, he was a returnee right? And NTAC was in charge of returnees...
Jordan started to dial the number for Tom Baldwin. Claudio sighed, like he already knew this was going to end badly.
Jordan looked back over at him and pressed the clear button.
Jordan: What now?
Claudio: When Kyle committed suicide and Shawn died at the hands of the homeless mob, Tom became deeply involved in NTAC. Over time, he became violently anti-4400, so much so that the future never arraigned that meeting between him and Alana. He eventually married Rebecca Parrish and now formulates official 4400 policy in Washington.
Jordan: What of Diana and Maia? It seems pretty useless for me to even attempt to dial them without you telling me their fates.
Claudio: Like in your timeline, Diana did adopt Maia, and they did live a happy, peaceful life.... for a while. But when the mobs started hunting down the 4400s after their release from quarentine, the government moved to set aside the adoption on "national security" grounds. Eventually, the government won, and Maia was taken to be nothing more than a tool of the establishment. Companies and corporations would buy tickets to speak with Maia, in hopes she would see something they could use to make themselves richer.
Diana, deeply attached to Maia, became more and more depressed, drinking herself to sleep each night with a bat of triple strenght tomato-tinis. She was forced to take an early retirement after she suffored from alcohol induced psychosis during one of her cases. She now resides in the Abington House for the Mentally Insane.
Jordan: And Marco?
Claudio: Marco, disgusted with the government treatment of the 4400s, quit NTAC shortly after the 4400 returned. He became an advocate for the 4400, often using his own money to fund research in the 4400 phenomenon. Sadly, for you, he died in a mysterious car crash a year ago.
Jordan slams the phone against the wall.
Soldier 2: That's quite enough from you, freak. You're now going straight to the holding cell.
Jordan is taken to his cell.
QUOTE (Megan3375 @ Jan 10 2008, 07:50 PM)
This future is a bummer... I mean Shawn gets beat to death and Richard is a terrorist, I want Jordan to wake up and reconsider his suicide!!! Great chapters though
That's kinda the whole idea. Jordan was the spice that made all the Christmas cookies taste good...
Jordan: How could such a future have taken place?
Claudio: You were never there.
Jordan suddenly feels a shiv go into his side. Jordan looks and sees one of the prisioners he has been put in with smiling and waving at him as he feels the blood pour out of his side.
Jordan: Claudio, I can't die now! I can't die knowing all that I know, that my existance mattered. I love Shawn and Kyle and even little Maia. I even begrugingly respect Tom and Diana and the rest of NTAC. Please don't let this stupid brute determine my fate.
A silent wind blows and Jordan is once again in his office. The television is on, playing oddly enough, "It's A Wonderful Life."
Zuzu: My teacher says that everytime a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.
Jordan looks down and notices a box of Dominican cigars and a note:
"Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." ----Claudio
Just then, the clock in his office chimes that ten minutes has passed.
Claudio: You were never there.
Jordan suddenly feels a shiv go into his side. Jordan looks and sees one of the prisioners he has been put in with smiling and waving at him as he feels the blood pour out of his side.
Jordan: Claudio, I can't die now! I can't die knowing all that I know, that my existance mattered. I love Shawn and Kyle and even little Maia. I even begrugingly respect Tom and Diana and the rest of NTAC. Please don't let this stupid brute determine my fate.
A silent wind blows and Jordan is once again in his office. The television is on, playing oddly enough, "It's A Wonderful Life."
Zuzu: My teacher says that everytime a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.
Jordan looks down and notices a box of Dominican cigars and a note:
"Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." ----Claudio
Just then, the clock in his office chimes that ten minutes has passed.
Yay for the enlightened Jordan... Well I hope he has decided his life matters...I can't belive how well you draw your audience in PJ.... Well I guess that is your job and your damn good at it 
Oh, my sweet Megan, it is not over yet. As you see in the last installment only ten minutes has passed. Maybe Jordan will still get depressed and take his own life. Or maybe something odd could still happen. Besides, I need to still fulfill the requirements of the challange: to present some holiday cheer, like feasting the singing of carols, and such.
Don't you love me?
Don't you love me?
DO I..... 
Oh Megs....
I keep checking in but the lastest installment is not ready yet...
I apologize for not rushing out another episode of the Holiday Fic, but there would be some very angry ladies if I neglected my other on-going series, Animefan! If they could delay their instant gratification for about two days, maybe I could sneak in another one of two installments of the second half of the story...
I'll be honest I am way more invested in you other on-going series, but I am willing to wait a few days for a new epi...I am very curious about what is happening over here!!!
How magnanimous of you, Megs....
The Red Cigar...
Jordan bit off the end of the red cigar and striked a match against the edge of his desk. He took a few puffs, enjoying the flavor of the cigar. If there was one thing he did appreciate about the PFTF's little mind game was the fact he was getting to smoke so many primo cigars. As the red smoke began to fill the room, he suddenly felt that he was not alone.
He looked over in the corner and there he saw the unnerving presence. A mysterious figure stood in the shadow and smoke dressed only in a red cloak that was trimmed in white. In the back, a symbol of the White Light group was adorned, a giant ball of white light. The hood of the cloak concealed the face and the man's silence unnerved Jordan.
Jordan: Who are you?
The man did not answer Jordan.
Jordan: Who are you?
This time, the man tried to leave, but Jordan was too quick and knocked him to the floor.
Jordan: I'll ask you again. Who are you? Don't make me hurt you.
However, there was no response from the cloaked figure.
That's when Jordan punched him.
Figure: Owwww!
Jordan: Claudio is that you?
Claudio: Yes, it's me Jordan...
Jordan: Why didn't you answer me when I asked who you are?
Claudio: It's kinda in my role description.
Claudio shows Jordan the Official PFTF How to Save Jordan In One Night Master Script.
Claudio: See?
Jordan: Oh, so you're now supposed to be the Ghost of Christmas Future?
Claudio: Well, I was, until you had to go ruin that....
Jordan (dejected): F***! I even ruin things I'm not supposed to.
Claudio: Jordan, chin up! It wasn't your fault. It was the fault of the PFTF for skimping on the cost of another actor. I told them it wouldn't be believeable with me playing a second role, but did they believe me? Nooooooo....
Jordan: Ok, so what am I supposed to see now, O Great Ghosty?
Claudio silently points to the television, the smoke from the cigar moving across the room until it was sucked in the screen.
Jordan: Um, ok, now what?
The television screen began to blink wildly until it stopped on a channel.
Channel 4 Anchorwoman: Promise City Mayor Jordan Collier was found dead in his office when support staff returned from their Christmas vacations. According to one of the cleaning ladies, Jordan Collier was "as frozen as an Arctic ice cube" and he looked as "blue and stiff as a Picasso painting." No autopsy has been performed yet, but initial reports from the Medical Examiner's Office suggest that Collier may have committed suicide by injecting himself full of a cocktail of sugar water and promicin inhibitor.
Having no family outside of his Promicin Movement, his funeral will be paid for and performed by Promise City governmental officials. Requests for comments about Jordan Collier's death were refused by his staff, as well as a number of Promise City notables. No word yet as to a possible motive for the apparent suicide, and investigators will be continuing their inquiry.
Channel 4 Anchorman: Thank God that freak is dead. Now us Negs can finally claim this city back to the way it should have been.
Anchorwoman: Uh, Jim the camera's still rolling...
Anchorman: Who cares? It's about time us normal folks demanded our rights not to have to deal with these freaks...
Anchorwoman: What about me? Am I a freak?
Anchorman: What do you mean Natalie?
Natalie transforms into a giant talking eagle.
Natalie: Should I not have rights? Or am I a second class citizen?
Jim: Yeah, you should be put out of commission just like that Jordan Collier.
Just then, the screen grows snowy, and another channel comes on. On the screen, Tom and Kyle were hanging around the Baldwin house, watching "It's A Wonderful Life" and waiting until it was time for Shawn's Christmas party over at the 4400 Center. The house was sparsely decorated, but there was a couple of stockings hung and a small tree in the corner.
Tom's arm was wrapped around Kyle in fatherly affection.
Tom: Too bad your mom couldn't have been here this year.
Kyle: I know, Dad.
Tom (flippantly): But when work calls, work calls.
Kyle: I miss Aunt Susan and Cousin Danny.
Tom: Me too.
Kyle: I wish I would have spent more time with them when they were still here.
Tom: I know, son. I know.
Tom gives Kyle a full on embrace as he starts to cry.
A few seconds later, the movie was interrupted by a TV anchor relaying news of Jordan's death.
Kyle (in shock): What?
Tom: Jordan's dead, son.
Kyle: You sure? Maybe he's playing a trick on us. Maybe this is all a nasty joke.
Tom: NTAC confirmed it two hours ago. That was what that phone call earlier was.
Kyle (angry): And you didn't tell me?
Tom: With all that has been going on this year, I thought it was better if you had a peaceful holiday. I wasn't the media to brazenly plaster his death all over the news.
Kyle goes over to the wall and begins to punch it repeatedly.
Kyle: First Susan and Danny. Then Isabelle. Then Jordan. Why must everyone I love be taken from me?
Tom: You still got me...
Kyle: Do I?
Kyle (tears streaming): Between NTAC and Meghan, I hardly see you anymore. And before that, you were emotionally distant.
Tom: And I've been trying to do better...
Kyle: Sometimes, dad, apologies come too late.
Kyle storms up to his room. He grabs his stuff and heads back down to leave.
Tom: Kyle where are you going to?
Kyle: I honestly don't know, dad. Jordan was the first person to really trust me and give me a purpose. He treated me like a person and valued my opinion. Now that he's gone, I don't know who I am and I need to go off and try and find myself.
Tom: Kyle, that's crazy. I know exactly who you are. You're Kyle Baldwin, my son.
Kyle: Who am I outside of that? Kyle, the coma patient? Perhaps I'm Kyle, the sniper and assassin? Maybe I'm Kyle the freak? Or Kyle, Special Shaman of a now defunct movement? You see, I've been defined by everyone else's expectations of me, and it's awfly hard to look in a mirror that way.
Tom (pleadingly): Kyle, you don't need to leave to find yourself. I can give you the space here.
Kyle: Thanks, but no thanks. It's time I stood on my own for once.
Kyle leaves.
In the months that follows Kyle's leaving, Tom grows more and more obsessive about the mysterious disappearance of Alana. He spends all of his time looking for her, doing jobs for NTAC here or there in order to fuel his quest.
Jordan bit off the end of the red cigar and striked a match against the edge of his desk. He took a few puffs, enjoying the flavor of the cigar. If there was one thing he did appreciate about the PFTF's little mind game was the fact he was getting to smoke so many primo cigars. As the red smoke began to fill the room, he suddenly felt that he was not alone.
He looked over in the corner and there he saw the unnerving presence. A mysterious figure stood in the shadow and smoke dressed only in a red cloak that was trimmed in white. In the back, a symbol of the White Light group was adorned, a giant ball of white light. The hood of the cloak concealed the face and the man's silence unnerved Jordan.
Jordan: Who are you?
The man did not answer Jordan.
Jordan: Who are you?
This time, the man tried to leave, but Jordan was too quick and knocked him to the floor.
Jordan: I'll ask you again. Who are you? Don't make me hurt you.
However, there was no response from the cloaked figure.
That's when Jordan punched him.
Figure: Owwww!
Jordan: Claudio is that you?
Claudio: Yes, it's me Jordan...
Jordan: Why didn't you answer me when I asked who you are?
Claudio: It's kinda in my role description.
Claudio shows Jordan the Official PFTF How to Save Jordan In One Night Master Script.
Claudio: See?
Jordan: Oh, so you're now supposed to be the Ghost of Christmas Future?
Claudio: Well, I was, until you had to go ruin that....
Jordan (dejected): F***! I even ruin things I'm not supposed to.
Claudio: Jordan, chin up! It wasn't your fault. It was the fault of the PFTF for skimping on the cost of another actor. I told them it wouldn't be believeable with me playing a second role, but did they believe me? Nooooooo....
Jordan: Ok, so what am I supposed to see now, O Great Ghosty?
Claudio silently points to the television, the smoke from the cigar moving across the room until it was sucked in the screen.
Jordan: Um, ok, now what?
The television screen began to blink wildly until it stopped on a channel.
Channel 4 Anchorwoman: Promise City Mayor Jordan Collier was found dead in his office when support staff returned from their Christmas vacations. According to one of the cleaning ladies, Jordan Collier was "as frozen as an Arctic ice cube" and he looked as "blue and stiff as a Picasso painting." No autopsy has been performed yet, but initial reports from the Medical Examiner's Office suggest that Collier may have committed suicide by injecting himself full of a cocktail of sugar water and promicin inhibitor.
Having no family outside of his Promicin Movement, his funeral will be paid for and performed by Promise City governmental officials. Requests for comments about Jordan Collier's death were refused by his staff, as well as a number of Promise City notables. No word yet as to a possible motive for the apparent suicide, and investigators will be continuing their inquiry.
Channel 4 Anchorman: Thank God that freak is dead. Now us Negs can finally claim this city back to the way it should have been.
Anchorwoman: Uh, Jim the camera's still rolling...
Anchorman: Who cares? It's about time us normal folks demanded our rights not to have to deal with these freaks...
Anchorwoman: What about me? Am I a freak?
Anchorman: What do you mean Natalie?
Natalie transforms into a giant talking eagle.
Natalie: Should I not have rights? Or am I a second class citizen?
Jim: Yeah, you should be put out of commission just like that Jordan Collier.
Just then, the screen grows snowy, and another channel comes on. On the screen, Tom and Kyle were hanging around the Baldwin house, watching "It's A Wonderful Life" and waiting until it was time for Shawn's Christmas party over at the 4400 Center. The house was sparsely decorated, but there was a couple of stockings hung and a small tree in the corner.
Tom's arm was wrapped around Kyle in fatherly affection.
Tom: Too bad your mom couldn't have been here this year.
Kyle: I know, Dad.
Tom (flippantly): But when work calls, work calls.
Kyle: I miss Aunt Susan and Cousin Danny.
Tom: Me too.
Kyle: I wish I would have spent more time with them when they were still here.
Tom: I know, son. I know.
Tom gives Kyle a full on embrace as he starts to cry.
A few seconds later, the movie was interrupted by a TV anchor relaying news of Jordan's death.
Kyle (in shock): What?
Tom: Jordan's dead, son.
Kyle: You sure? Maybe he's playing a trick on us. Maybe this is all a nasty joke.
Tom: NTAC confirmed it two hours ago. That was what that phone call earlier was.
Kyle (angry): And you didn't tell me?
Tom: With all that has been going on this year, I thought it was better if you had a peaceful holiday. I wasn't the media to brazenly plaster his death all over the news.
Kyle goes over to the wall and begins to punch it repeatedly.
Kyle: First Susan and Danny. Then Isabelle. Then Jordan. Why must everyone I love be taken from me?
Tom: You still got me...
Kyle: Do I?
Kyle (tears streaming): Between NTAC and Meghan, I hardly see you anymore. And before that, you were emotionally distant.
Tom: And I've been trying to do better...
Kyle: Sometimes, dad, apologies come too late.
Kyle storms up to his room. He grabs his stuff and heads back down to leave.
Tom: Kyle where are you going to?
Kyle: I honestly don't know, dad. Jordan was the first person to really trust me and give me a purpose. He treated me like a person and valued my opinion. Now that he's gone, I don't know who I am and I need to go off and try and find myself.
Tom: Kyle, that's crazy. I know exactly who you are. You're Kyle Baldwin, my son.
Kyle: Who am I outside of that? Kyle, the coma patient? Perhaps I'm Kyle, the sniper and assassin? Maybe I'm Kyle the freak? Or Kyle, Special Shaman of a now defunct movement? You see, I've been defined by everyone else's expectations of me, and it's awfly hard to look in a mirror that way.
Tom (pleadingly): Kyle, you don't need to leave to find yourself. I can give you the space here.
Kyle: Thanks, but no thanks. It's time I stood on my own for once.
Kyle leaves.
In the months that follows Kyle's leaving, Tom grows more and more obsessive about the mysterious disappearance of Alana. He spends all of his time looking for her, doing jobs for NTAC here or there in order to fuel his quest.
BRAVO!!! You really captured the true nature of Tom and Kyle's relationship, I really felt like I was watching an episode of The 4400!
Megs, you're a sweetheart!
A few seconds later, the channel changed again. This time, it focused in Diana and Maia.
Diana and Maia were decorating their Christmas Tree as carols blasted in the background. On a table nearby was a small meatloaf and a quart of eggnog. They both were having a really good time.
Diana: Maia, are you okay with me going out later to the 4400 Center party?
Maia (rolling eyes): Yes, mom.
Diana: And you won't be tempted to look for your Christmas presents?
Maia (rolling eyes again): No, mom.
Diana (with a confused look on face): Huh? Why not?
Maia: Because I already know what I'm getting for Christmas.
Diana: You remember the number to the Center?
Maia (rolls eyes): Yes mom. Go. Have a good time, and please don't worry about me. I'll be fine.
Diana: You know moms always worry.
Maia: Oh, and mom?
Diana: Yes?
Maia: If you wear the sweater with the reindeer on it, you'll win the money pot. Everyone's betting that you'll come in wearing another one of your vest outfits.
Diana: Damn co-workers!
Maia and Diana share another couple of hours together, singing and decorating the house.
All of the sudden, Maia starts not feeling good.
Diana: Honey, what's wrong?
Maia: Jordan's dead.
Diana: What?
Maia: I just saw a vision. Jordan's lying dead in his office, his ashtray littered with the remains of two cigars. For a while, good will hold sway, but the bad people will win out.
Diana: What do you mean?
Maia: We're no longer in charge now.
Diana: Do you see anything we can do to prevent the coming catastrophe?
Maia: With Jordan's death, our fate and the fate of the people from the future are sealed.
Diana: Wow, you really know how to suck out the sunshine out of the room...
Maia: Can't help it, Mom. It's the way the future made me...
Diana: Do you still want me to go to the 4400 Center Christmas party?
Maia: No, you go. That would have been the way Jordan wanted it.
Diana: What do you mean, honey?
Maia: Say what you want about him, but Jordan did view the future positively. He was always hopeful that things would turn out alright. He really did want to help people, even if he didn't go about it perfectly.
Diana: Even I have to give him that...
Maia: I just think he wouldn't want people mourning over him. He'd rather have people dancing than crying.
Diana: Ok, Maia. I'll go, for you. But if you start feeling depressed or sad or anything, feel free to call me and I'll come right home.
Maia: Sure thing, Mom.
The next few years seemed to flash across the television screen. Maia became more and more cynical, and in time, she rarely told anyone of her visions, even if they would help. She had learned from Jordan that believing in something greater than yourself didn't matter.... all that mattered was you and what you could get out of the deal. Diana grew more and more distraught, throwing herself more and more into her work, before a government agent that was most likely working for the Marked arrested her for sneaking home some files to do her work over the evening. Maia, of course, had seen the event, but never bothered to tell Diana.
Diana and Maia were decorating their Christmas Tree as carols blasted in the background. On a table nearby was a small meatloaf and a quart of eggnog. They both were having a really good time.
Diana: Maia, are you okay with me going out later to the 4400 Center party?
Maia (rolling eyes): Yes, mom.
Diana: And you won't be tempted to look for your Christmas presents?
Maia (rolling eyes again): No, mom.
Diana (with a confused look on face): Huh? Why not?
Maia: Because I already know what I'm getting for Christmas.
Diana: You remember the number to the Center?
Maia (rolls eyes): Yes mom. Go. Have a good time, and please don't worry about me. I'll be fine.
Diana: You know moms always worry.
Maia: Oh, and mom?
Diana: Yes?
Maia: If you wear the sweater with the reindeer on it, you'll win the money pot. Everyone's betting that you'll come in wearing another one of your vest outfits.
Diana: Damn co-workers!
Maia and Diana share another couple of hours together, singing and decorating the house.
All of the sudden, Maia starts not feeling good.
Diana: Honey, what's wrong?
Maia: Jordan's dead.
Diana: What?
Maia: I just saw a vision. Jordan's lying dead in his office, his ashtray littered with the remains of two cigars. For a while, good will hold sway, but the bad people will win out.
Diana: What do you mean?
Maia: We're no longer in charge now.
Diana: Do you see anything we can do to prevent the coming catastrophe?
Maia: With Jordan's death, our fate and the fate of the people from the future are sealed.
Diana: Wow, you really know how to suck out the sunshine out of the room...
Maia: Can't help it, Mom. It's the way the future made me...
Diana: Do you still want me to go to the 4400 Center Christmas party?
Maia: No, you go. That would have been the way Jordan wanted it.
Diana: What do you mean, honey?
Maia: Say what you want about him, but Jordan did view the future positively. He was always hopeful that things would turn out alright. He really did want to help people, even if he didn't go about it perfectly.
Diana: Even I have to give him that...
Maia: I just think he wouldn't want people mourning over him. He'd rather have people dancing than crying.
Diana: Ok, Maia. I'll go, for you. But if you start feeling depressed or sad or anything, feel free to call me and I'll come right home.
Maia: Sure thing, Mom.
The next few years seemed to flash across the television screen. Maia became more and more cynical, and in time, she rarely told anyone of her visions, even if they would help. She had learned from Jordan that believing in something greater than yourself didn't matter.... all that mattered was you and what you could get out of the deal. Diana grew more and more distraught, throwing herself more and more into her work, before a government agent that was most likely working for the Marked arrested her for sneaking home some files to do her work over the evening. Maia, of course, had seen the event, but never bothered to tell Diana.
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