Petaline Tiller volunteers as tribute (nofortunateone) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-02-16 06:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 56th games, - arena, tribute: 56th halle gremlin, tribute: 56th reaper spelt, tribute: 56th sephora kohl |
Who: Halle Gremlin [D6], Reaper Spelt [D9] and Sephora Kohl [D1]
When: Night 7
Where: The Mines of Marnassia
What: Free For All!
Rating/Status: Well, they all got death rolls, so...
Pitch dark mines seemed as good a hiding place as any. Halle holed up in Marnassia for the night, figuring bat mutts offered better odds than running afoul of a career. Besides, maybe she'd have an easier time sleeping there; she hadn't had much luck with that in the last few days. She settled silently into the little nook she'd found, listening for the rustling of the creatures deeper in the caves but not hearing much. Hopefully they'd leave her alone tonight. Suddenly the mines echoed with crashes and yelling. It wasn't bats, and she wasn't alone. Reaper wasn’t quite sure how he had misjudged the amount of daylight he had left in the arena and by the time the sun had started to set he was far from the Tunnel of Love. Back home, the distance wouldn’t have been a big deal to him, but here in the creepy amusement park it could be a matter of life or death. Without much thought, he decided to spend the night in one of the mine ride, hoping that the darkness would let him get some sleep while remaining undetected by fellow tributes. For the first few minutes of his careful exploring, he carefully threaded along using the wall as his guide, through the further he walked the more confident he became about his success navigating the pitch black tunnels. He was doing so well, so Reaper let his guard down and that turned out to be a mistake. After taking a few careless steps without a hand on the wall, he ran into a way and smashed his nose against the faux rock, which caused him to curse rather loudly as he fell. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself when he realized what he had done. This wasn’t working. Machine was dead, Cypress was dead, and what had she done this week? Surprised by Patsy while finishing up her trap, only to run off at the first sign of a trap, and now she was chasing the echo of Alex. She had to face it - she’d lost him. If Caesar Flickerman had asked her what she wanted to do right now, sit down and cry would be at the top of her list. She was sure the entire district dismissed her now, just as she was starting to dismiss herself. She didn’t even want to think about what her father was thinking. But then she saw it. A flicker of motion at the mine cars. It was a chance and she didn’t know who it was but she had to take it. She crept quietly into the ride and she could hear footsteps more easily in the echo of the tunnel descending into the ride. She listened for a moment, trying to count the legs to make sure it wasn’t a mutt prowling below, but then she heard it - a fall and words. A boy, indeterminable from this distance. Had she not lost him at all? Sephora pulled her shoulders back and descended into the tunnel. It was dark and cool, and she moved slow to both give her eyes time to adjust to the light, and to try and sneak up on the stupid, clunky male. Carefully, Reaper climbed back to his feet and dusted off his knees purely out of habit as no one cared about dirt in the arena. He then leaned down to feel around the ground until he felt the handle of his sickle and as his fingers wrapped around the smooth wood, he let out a small sigh of relief. If he was going to survive all of this, his gifted weapon would be one of the major reasons. He could feel a trickle of warm liquid running across his upper lip as he started to walk once again. Right now, Reaper couldn't worry about the potential damage to his nose. He had to worry about getting somewhere safe for the night so he could at least get an hour or two of sleep. And that was when he heard it. Somewhere behind him came the sound of a rock being kicked. While it was faint, his ears picked up on it thanks to his heightened state here in the mines. Reaper resisted the urge to call out into the dark and instead gripped the sickle tighter as he slowly turned around to face the possible threat in the darkness. Fuck, Sephora thought to herself as her foot slid on the ground, kicking up a rock. As much as her brain was telling her how bad an idea this was, she moved forward still, biting her lip as she tried to see a figure in the black. She needed this. She had to come away with victory. Step after step she took, gingerly, the back of her hand scraping across the rock so the blade of her daggers didn’t make a sound, until she hit something. No. SOMEONE. In a split second, she recoiled, dropped her shoulder like a festival linesman, then plowed into the warm body. Reaper didn't know if he should run or hold his ground.. The former would definitely give away that he was here, but so would the later. As the hand hit his arm, he had just made the decision to run, though now it seemed the decision to fight was thrust upon him. Turning to the side, he was unable to take even a step before the body collided against him. He let out a grunt thanks to the impact before taking a swing toward the direction of the figure with his sickle. Hopefully, it would collide with something other than the wall. Halle's apprehension grew as the sounds of the fight grew closer and closer to her. She should've gone further into the mines. She could see very little, but that meant she couldn't be seen much, either. Maybe she could stay where she was and be passed over altogether. Or maybe not. They were too close now; she couldn't avoid detection altogether. As silently as she could, she eased the wrench out of her bag. It was better than no weapon at all. She crouched low to the ground, ready to swing at the knees of either or both of them if they came too close. Sephora made a sharp sound as the sickle swiped at her cheek, underlining her eye. She crawled forward and took a stab ahead, meeting nothing but rock. She tried to follow the sound of scuffling, taking to swinging sharply before her and to the sides in wide arcs as she got to her knees, thinking that the boy would automatically start looking to swing at a standing person. “Is that you, Alex?” she asked the darkness, taking another sharp, wild swing. He recognized the voice as belonging to the girl from District 1, though Reaper did not give her the satisfaction of answering her question as he continued to swing wildly into the dark. While he had some amount of confidence he could take her on in the daylight, the darkness was another question. He could see where to attack in the light, but right now his swings were nothing more than a hope and a prayer that he would eventually hit something. Eventually he did, but not in the way he had hoped. It was inevitable that he would run into a wall and the only plus side to doing so was that he managed not to curse over his potential cornering like he wanted so badly to do. Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his head and brace himself for the attack Sephora was no doubt planning on making. The moment was now. Someone--Halle couldn't tell which of them--was too nearby to ignore. She swung her wrench without saying a word, still low to the ground. She connected with...well, with something. The sudden stop of movement jarred her arm, but she stopped herself from crying out. The only advantage she had was that, as far as she could tell, neither of them knew she was there. Reaper was expecting a blade of some sort, but instead he found his legs being assaulted by a blunt cold metal object, which caught him by surprise. Almost immediately, he began to wobble and the more he attempted to find his footing the more unstable he became He even attempted to grab hold of the wall, though it did nothing more than crumble under his attempts. So down he went and to his surprise the top half of his body landed on something soft instead of the dirt ground. Halle let out a cry as a body fell onto her. She may not have thought this out so well after all. Her knees buckled and in a second she was lying on her stomach. Well, shit. The injury to her arm twinged as she pushed into the ground to try to get back up, but she couldn't do much with the weight of the other tribute lying on top of her. "Get off of me!" she finally yelled, trying awkwardly to swing behind her with the wrench, but without much luck. Sephora’s eyes widened in the dark as a second voice, this time a female, called out in the dark. Not Pansy, not Amelia, Machine was dead, that left one of two choices. She scrabbled over to the sound and took a stab with her dagger, hearing the clink of metal on rock, but feeling something bite into the blade just a little. “Welcome to the party,” she said brightly, teeth gritting as a new pump of blood spurted from the gash she’d taken. The blade sliced along the side of Halle's ribs and she screamed. The pressure from the boy's weight combined with the girl's knife left her nearly breathless and almost certainly helpless. Mistake. This had all been a mistake. She swung her wrench again with more desperation; her angle was still terrible but this time, at least, she felt herself solidly connect. When a wrench once again collided with his skull, Reaper had been in the process of trying to climb off the girl he was no pretty sure was Halle. Her swing was no doubt filled with adrenaline as the wrench hit his head with almost the same amount of force Alex had shown at the Cornucopia. Lights flash in his eyes when the metal tool made contact with the right side of his head and just like before he felt the now unmistakable feeling of blood seeping out of his new wound. Disoriented by both the new pain and the old darkness, he was able to stand it what could almost be described as a crouching position and as he moved one of his feet forward in an effort to shuffle away, it collided with another body. Reaper wasn’t sure of the girl he had made contact with was Sephora or Halle, though it didn’t matter in the long run because both needed to die in order for him to live. Raising the sickle up with both hands above his head, he used what force he could muster through the pain and slammed the blade down into the female in front of him. The sickle was sharp enough that it took a second to realize that there was a sharp point buried in her thigh. In the next second, she was flooded by the trainer’s words in her head: you can bleed out of a wound like that in 5 minutes flat. In the next, she wondered if she was already dead. She jabbed her dagger under the curve of the sickle and tried to wrench it up and out of whatever hand held it. She wasn’t dead yet. There was still time to take someone with her. She swung out wildly with her dagger, then the other, trying to strike soft flesh and finding stone and rail. Sephora could taste blood in her mouth as she bit her lip, trying to keep from crying out with pain. And then a boulder slammed into the ground next to her. His intent was to keep swinging at the body next to him until he heard a cannon sound, though when he heard something slam to the ground, something that definitely wasn’t another body, Reaper knew his plans would have to change. Cursing, he stood on wobbly legs as he heard the slamming noise once again. Whether by design or by accident, even his clouded mind could reason that staying in here wasn’t the best idea or a cannon would be sounding for him soon. He didn’t say a word as he scooted past the female in front of him and prayed he was heading in the direction of an exit. Halle, out of the frying pan and into the fire, forced herself to her feet as the rocks dashed down around them. Her wrench was still in her right hand, her bag and supplies in her left. Her internal directions were all out of whack, but she sensed the boy was running one way, so she took off running (as best she could, which wasn't too well with the gash on her side) down the other way. For all she knew, she was running deeper into the mines--but if she got away from the rocks and away from the other tributes, well, she could figure out the rest later. Her left leg burned as she pulled herself up, hearing the other two scatter like rats from a light and picking a sound to follow, she forced herself to run. Each step sent a new bolt of pain as the muscle begged not to cooperate, but Sephora couldn’t let another tribute get away. She couldn’t. Not again. She strode up, up, up, the darkness changing from mines to sky and she finally saw the abandoned carts again. Run, run, run - she was now at the doorway. Sephora could finally see who she’d been fighting as he ran on, too many yards ahead. Reaper. District 9. She stood and watched him fade into the night, her jaw trembling, her pantleg wet with blood. |