InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "huec-o-mundo"

DON'T call me a raccoon. (pro_asshole) wrote in incompletedata,
@ 2017-09-26 14:25:00

Entry tags:

marvel: mcu: rocket, miss fisher murder: phryne fisher

Who: Rocket and Phyrne
What: Stew and Disaster
Where: Room D
When: Day 3
Rating: Hunger Games

Rocket spent a lot of his time after running into the blind dude figuring out if staying in that golden thing would be worth whatever fight he had to put up for it. He lingered near the entrance to the big center cave, spying the one person who seemed to have the same idea as him, until the guy moved off somewhere else. That was good luck, he figured. Unless the guy left traps.

Like he would. Like he did.

Rocket wasn't always the most patient creature when it came to shit like this, but he needed a plan. Unfortunately, that plan was interrupted by his sense of smell. Suddenly out of nowhere, he smelled cooked food, and since he'd been keeping himself sustained by raw hot dogs (saving the matches for something special) before they spoiled, his stomach decided his plan could wait- because that food was nearby.

Hiding his stash of shit behind the big rock formation he and Bucky fell on during the first minute of this hell, an unburdened Rocket followed his nose, jumping from rock to rock (when he could avoid the water) around the cavern where they started it all, until a he spotted a small pot sitting on one two boulders away. He headed for it, crossing half the distance when his impulsive detour suddenly included...

...another goddamned person.

Smaller than the blind guy and Bucky, he didn't recognize the figure save for the matching uniform and hard hat, but she was coming up behind the stew- having seen it as well. And she was closer.

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phrynefisher
2017-09-27 03:03 am UTC (link)

After leaving the Cornucipa towards the end of the first day, she had hunkered down just outside it. Everyone had dispersed to various places but she figured that sticking close to the centre, where all the supplies were originally might be a good idea. Plus she hadn't wanted to put to much pressure on her ankle. There were rocks to hide behind, to use as weapons and she had her supplies so she figured she would last.

She'd ventured slightly on the second day trying to find wild fruit and plants that looked edible but nothing much had been found.

That morning she had decided to head back to the Cornucopia to see if anything else had arrived. She still thought that might be the best location to find things. Her nose proved she was correct when she smelt something cooked.

It smelled amazing.

Finding it easily enough in a tin, she quickly crossed the rocks towards it. As she reached it she spotted a - raccoon? - approaching from the other direction. She'd seen him around but hadn't paid much attention to him previously. She was closer though, she could get it. Grabbing it she crouched low struggled to get her bag off to put it in with her other supplies.

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pro_asshole
2017-09-27 03:28 am UTC (link)

As soon as the woman started going for the pot, something popped in Rocket's head- something familiar and somewhat feral, old habit combined with stress. He barked out a yell of protest and anger and charged, full speed through three steps of water and leaped onto the first rock that lead to the food. Then the second and third, where his boots launched him in a hard lunge right at the woman's chest, intent on landing a blow with his whole body weight, enough to throw her back so he could grab the prize.

His hit landed square and but he bounced awkwardly back; her footing had been bad, or off, or something he didn't anticipate, which threw him at the wrong angle right down to the jagged edge of two rocks below. The rock sliced through his jumpsuit and deep into his lower thigh, sending white hot pain and a growled yelp into the darkness.

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phrynefisher
2017-09-27 10:23 am UTC (link)

As she shifted slightly to gain better balance, the other person hit her in the chest sending both of them flying. Stumbling backwards she tried to find something to grab on to but there was nothing.

She was flying backwards and then.

Blinding pain, white, worse than she had ever felt. Worse than shrapnel in the thigh. She thought she screamed but she couldn't be sure.

Then there was blackness.

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pro_asshole
2017-09-29 01:42 pm UTC (link)

When the brief moment of painful static cleared behind his eyes, Rocket jumped back up, ready on his feet (as he could be) for the next part of the fight- but it never came. The pot was still on the rock where it had been when they'd both spotted it, but the woman was sprawled behind it, half on her side, silent and still.

What the hell happened- his blood pressure and breath spiked with adrenaline, he moved around the pot and around the awkwardly splayed boots; that's when he noticed the makeshift splint on the chick's ankle. The woman's light-less stare aimed at nothing, Rocket recognized instantly.

She was dead.

"Aw hell-" he huffed, barely above his breath. His chest was tight and uncomfortable, but something old and familiar clicked over in his brain just when he thought it might get painful- right after he closed the woman's eyes.

That familiar feeling was the need to survive. It sufficiently numbed him while he sifted through her things and took everything that was useful- including the stew- and returned to the miserable darkness that was the majority of his life.

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