a name no one will eventually remember (goners) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-02-13 16:49:00 |
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It was always safest hunting with her partner - not safe, never safe in the Arena, but there was a solid need for one another when it came to her and Brock. Or perhaps it was a solid advantage: knowing that they were built in as allies, at least until the tension mounted, meant that the only person the hulking giant would really harm by killing her now would be himself. For a while, at least, they were partners, moving through the filtered sunlight quietly, carefully, dark shadows even in the day that promised danger or death to any who crossed their path. They’d been stalking predatorily through the arena for some time before they found movement. Zipporah’s dark eyes flitted immediately to it, her body halting instantly, held in a breath before calling softly to her partner, “There.” She made quite certain to lock gazes with him, grinning in her dangerous and alarming little way and aligning their intent before she took off at a run in that direction, blades finding their way into her hands. Three large strides and Brock was at her side again, mace slung over his shoulder as he ran. A small grin returned hers, though he didn't care to make sure she caught it. She knew he shared her excitement, their eagerness apparent to anyone as they tore across the arena to follow the outliers into the castle-looking building. Approaching the door they had seen figures disappearing into, Brock slowed his run to a halt, pulling his mace off his shoulder and patting the knife on his belt. "Let's go," he whispered. It was more difficult to sneak up on someone in a house of mirrors, Brock realized, but luckily the tributes they were after were not too far ahead of them, and before long he could see their shapes in the mirrors. Eyes nearly closed (more-so than usual), Brock let his ears do most of the work as he tried to work out which were reflections and which were real. Finally he was nearly certain and, nodding at Zipporah, leapt around a corner, weapon swinging ahead of him and aimed right at the first person he saw — the girl. Patsy did not like the mirror maze, not one bit. But there were careers after them and she tried to keep moving forward… whichever way that way. She stopped for a second, trying to regain her bearings, when she saw a sudden movement in a reflection. Her instincts kicked in the moment she spotted the squinty-eyed boy from District 2 and she ran through the maze as fast as she could, which wasn’t particularly easy, but she was fairly sure she’d lost him after a few turns. There was no point in being discreet now: the pounding footsteps and dangerous confusion that had announced Brock and Zipporah’s arrival left him facing off with the blonde from District Nine, and it was the girl from District Two who found herself face to face with the angry looking boy in front of her; it was an enthusiastic snarl that greeted him, her bloodlust having gone unsatiated the day before, and though he had the size advantage on her, it was with blades in hand that she crouched, eyes bright with furious attention when the first knife left her hand, just barely missing its intended target. Reaper knew better than to think a young woman of Zipporah’s size wouldn’t be able to hurt him. After years of watching the games back home in District 9, he knew all too well that even the sweetest looking girl could be deadly, especially when they came from the second district. He still thought he had a good chance of besting here thanks to typical teenage male bravado and when her knife missed him, he couldn’t help but have boost of confidence. “Is that the best you can do, sweetie?” Reaper asked with a smirk as he twirled the sickle in his dominant hand. “Call me sweetie again, Nine, and I”ll cut your testicles off,” came her answer, tone ironically as sweet as it could be; she’d known that throwing would be more difficult after the injuries she’d sustained to her hand, but the sharpness with which she came to realize she was more affected than she thought was something different altogether. For not the first time, eyes on the curved silver weapon in the other boy’s hands, she cursed the gamemakers for not giving her a whip to work with - she’d have had him down in seconds, she swore to herself. Her hand went to the dagger at her belt now, hefting it as she kept her eyes on the image of Reaper in front of her, lest she lose it among the dozens of reflections, she called casually, “You like your chances, then?” “Sure,” he answered with a small shrug of his shoulders as he cocked his head to the side. “But judging from the fact you haven’t rushed to do anything, I’m wondering if you do.” Shit shit shit shit shit, Zap knew he should have been prepared for this eventuality, but how could one prepare for being chased into a house of mirrors by bloodthirsty teenagers, really? Fortunately, the Careers were technically outnumbered, and the boy from Five managed to elude them while they attacked his alliance instead. Terrified but trying his best not to panic lest he do something stupid or irrational, Zap ducked behind a mirror and tried to get his head on straight. Think, Zap, think. He looked down at the battery and spool of wire in his hands and decided that it was now or never. He had to move quickly, or he, Reaper, and Patsy were all fucked. He looped one end of the wire through one of the battery’s terminals, then unspooled enough wire to hook over the top of the nearest mirror and across the path he’d came in from, forming a garrote that he hoped would catch one of the Careers. He then hooked the other end of the wire into the other terminal and let go, careful not to get caught when he completed the circuit. It was certainly not the greatest trap ever created, but for now, it was all he could do with what he had. Now, all he needed to do was to get their attention. “Hey fuckface!” he shouted at Brock when he spotted him, hoping to direct his attention away from the others. It had been Brock's policy to, for the most part, ignore any twerps who barely had a weapon, but it wasn't until his leg made contact with the wire and he began to feel his muscles contract that he remembered why he was supposed to have a healthy respect for District Five. Cleverness. It had won more than one tribute their games, even against others as strong as him. Of course, Brock barely had enough time to realize this before he found himself dropping to his knees, body convulsing from the electric shock. He pushed away as quickly as he could but his efforts were nearly fruitless, the pain only ending when he somehow managed to get away from the wire enough that the pain lessened, and he could finally drop to the floor in relief. With reflections glaring high all around them, it was nearly impossible to miss, from all angles, the pain inflicted upon her partner: fear ran through Zipporah for the first time in the encounter at the sound he made, at the potential of an electrical weapon, a chilling split second of worrying whether she would be left alone in this hellhall of mirrors before fury came surging to the forefront - with an angry shout of exertion, she darted just out of reach of her previous opponent with his sickle, eyes searching the impossibly multiple blurs of motion in the corner of her eyes, rounding a corner and following the direction that sound seemed to have come from. Her snarl, feline and furious, was the only announcement she needed before she was flying at the tribute from District Five, dagger raised with absolute commitment to lodging it deep in the boy’s skull. Zap had made the mistake of focusing too much on distracting Brock, and didn’t even see Zipporah coming before she was already upon him. He didn’t have time to react. He threw up his hands to strike at her defensively, but bare hands were no match for a Career’s knife. It was that blade, clutched tight in her hand, and the adrenaline that surged through her at the thought of losing her partner - to Five - that did it: she ignored the hands that pushed at her, that fought desperately to keep her from what they both knew would be due. The momentum of absolute fury, of the need to defend her partner and to keep the rest of them from reaching him, carried her forward and lodged her dagger into the most defenseless target possible. The blade slid into his eye socket seamlessly, an eruption of blood and gore the answer when she yanked it out a moment later. Zap watched the knife coming at his face, but was helpless to stop it. He yelped in pain and surprise at the sudden surge of agony, although he was even more surprised when he did not die immediately. He tensed up, readying himself for the final, killing blow. So this was it. Brock managed to force his eyes open, hand somehow still clenched around his mace. Everything was sore, so very sore, but he was able to make out the image of Zap doubled over, hands pressed against his eye. Head whipping around as he tried to drag himself to his feet, Brock looked for Zipporah, seeing Reaper going after her but barely able to even react. Logically, Reaper should have let Zipporah go and waited until the games were further along to go after her when hunger and thirst had settled in, thus making her an easy target. It probably would have been the best decision and saved him for at least another day, but moves like that wouldn’t win him any popularity points with potential sponsors. It also wouldn’t help him win the game, though going after the D2 just might. Sickle gripped tightly in his hand, Reaper rushed in the direction in which she had gone, though it wasn’t as easy as he had hoped thanks to all the mirrors. Confused, he made his way in various directions, many of them dead ends, cursing all the way until he finally came upon her. He didn’t bother to assess the entire situation and instead ran toward Zipporah, weapon in hand and ready to swing. She had still been looming over the District Five boy, an angry snarling creature who was prepared to finish the job - an eye was nothing compared to your life. Still she spat the words as though they tasted wrong, “A return gift to District Five from District Two. Jet was twice the fighter you’ll ever be.” If there hadn’t been the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her, she would have gone for the death blow - but as it was, she barely got herself turned around in time to face the boy from District Nine before the sickle was biting into the flesh of her side. With a cry of pain - how deep had it gone - she lashed out with the same weapon that was still coated in blood and refuse from being buried in Zap’s eye socket, aiming to make the other boy jump back, or at least clear the distance enough for her to move, move, move out of the reach of that curved blade. Reaper almost let out a ‘whoop’ when the blade of the sickle collided with Zipporah thanks to the surge of adrenaline that came from attacking the Career. Pulling the weapon out of her side, he had all intentions of striking her again, but she came toward him with her knife. As he jumped back, the tip of the blade managed to slice across his skin superficially. Not particularly painful like his previous injuries, though it still caused him to take a few steps back as he tried to quickly think of his next move. Then he heard Patsy scream and all thoughts of hurting Zipporah left his mind. Turning, Reaper ran as fast as he could away from the District 2 girl and back into the mirrored labyrinth to find his district partner. The show down with the Career girl would have to wait for another time. Zipporah could handle herself, Brock knew, which meant it was time for him to finish the job he'd started with the girl. There was no more waiting, this was do or die. Striking forward, muscles still screaming as he pushed through their stiffness, he slammed his mace at her, it hitting with a sharp crack. Oh shit, that was a mirror. Patsy had mostly stayed out of the fight, letting the boys take care of the careers. She figured she could step in if needed. But as it turned out, the fight came to her in the form of that boy again. She couldn’t help giggling when he broke the mirror. What a lummox, she thought to herself. However, he did have a scary looking weapon and all she had was a knife so that was a concern in the back of her head. She brandished her knife, trying to look threatening, but probably failing, considering who she was up against. The giggle came from his right, Brock realized, though images of Patsy surrounded him. The one in front of him was splintered, each bursting into more images of the girl, and those around him still echoing the face of her laughter, taunting Brock and his mistake. No, he thought to himself, she would not make him look stupid. Mace high above his head, he closed his eyes slightly and swung it toward the sound, feeling contact as he did. Okay, maybe making a noise was a bad idea, even if she couldn’t help it — but the boy was clearly all ears since he probably had issues seeing very well, Patsy thought in the split second before his mace hit her in the stomach. It sent her flying into the mirror behind her as she cried out in pain. She reeled for a second, but knew she had to get back and either fight or run away. Knowing he outmatched her, at least in weapons, she decided trying to get out of there was the better option and used the walls of the maze as support as she tried to get away as quickly as possible. But she wouldn't, Brock vowed, because she was right there in front of him and moving too slowly. One more hit and she'd be done for, another cannon blast closer to his goal. He could see the shattered glass where she hit the mirror in front of him, images of her stumbling to get away on all sides of him, but he knew which one was real. Drawing back, he swung his arm again, this time directly at her head and— Crack. Another mirror shattered. And then Patsy was gone. Fuck. Before he knew what he was doing, Zap found himself running while making a sound caught somewhere between hysterical laughter and a sob. He had no idea where he was supposed to be going, but his face was searing and wet, and he was clutching his battery and wires to his chest like a newborn baby. Somehow, he was alive - he thought so, anyway - and when he finally spotted Patsy and Reaper, he let out a guffaw of relief, forgetting for a moment his slightly grisly appearance. “It’s all fun and games,” he choked, obviously a bit delirious. “until someone loses an eye.” It was mere seconds ago that Patsy surrounded him, face in the mirrors, but one quick turn and she was gone, Brock unable to tell which way she went. There were sounds of whispers to his left, but he knew she hadn't been that way, and while Zap had been behind him, there was no sign of another person there. No blood on the ground or echoes of conversations, and had it not been for the mirrors they shattered and the ache in his body from the shock, he would almost have believed they had never been there. "Dammit," he growled, darting forward to peer around another mirror, but even that revealed no one. Where the fuck had they gone? Where had — "Zipporah?" Inhaling sharply, rapidly, in shallow breaths in an attempt to stave off the pain that radiated from her side (she hadn’t been brave enough yet to look at it, but it was difficult even to move without wincing now that the adrenaline was draining from her. “Here,” she answered hollowly, a grunt of displeasure following up. There was little more than a cursory glance given as she checked for the other tributes before, “They’re gone.” And, with a disgusted look for the maze that had lost them three solid kills, came the answering, “Let’s go.” Waiting until he was by her side, she let her hand hold tight to the sleeve of his jacket, unwilling to lose the only partner she had in this godforsaken arena to a mass of reflections. Reaper knew how lucky he was to leave a scuffle with a Career with little more than some bruises and various scratches. Given the confusion and her training, Zipporah could have easily killed him, but thankfully it looked like he had been spared this time so he could enjoy another day of fun in the arena. His alliance partners didn’t appear to be as lucky. “Dude. What happened to your eye?” was all he managed to ask Zap before shuffling all three of them away from where they last say the District 2 team. |