thearena | live fast die young bad fugitivi do it well

Entry tags:

live fast die young bad fugitivi do it well

Who: Nasir & Gannicus & open to all!
What: See the prompts below. Basically, a couple of ex-slaves have fun in the fog, hunt like a pack of thugs and enjoy themselves. If you fancy a scuffle then you've come to the right party.
When: Throughout week 2 (and beyond?)
Where: All over the place! They aren't staying still, that's for sure.
Notes: Warnings for violence (!) and awful language. Will update if need be.

A. closed to Nasir & Gannicus only ( in which heat vision is a thing and nobody cares much for acid spray )

The Cornucopia had been... disappointing. The lead pipe that he had hefted for the first few days was far from satisfactory; the swing of it was wrong and he missed the impaling point of his swords. A blunt object was all well and good but Gannicus had a fondness for the familiar weight of a gladii in each hand.

And then the knife had arrived.

"The city of bread and they feed us fucking crumbs!" He laughed as he swung the short knife with an experimental air, slicing and cutting down imaginary Tributes as he paced the flat roof of a garage. This was their home for the night: exposed, but elevated and distant. A lead pipe in his lead hand and a knife in his off hand - it was unbalanced and crude (much like many men Gannicus had known over the years) and it would have to do.

Unsatisfied but resigned, he shot a curious look at Nasir over his shoulder.

"Tell me the gods have blessed you with better offering?"

B. Nasir & OPEN ( in which Nasir's hair remains immaculate no matter how many rude bitches get up in his business )

Nasir knew it was wiser to stay with Gannicus, but at the same time they could cover more ground and find more resources if they were apart for the time. But that wasn't the true reason he was walking through the fog on his own, trusting on his heat vision goggles to show him any nearby tributes. He was searching for someone from home.

If Gannicus was here, then why not Agron? Maybe even his brother. The Capitol had taken them after all. Why waste a former gladiator?

Nasir kept his turning his gaze around him, raising the goggles every now and then so he didn't become disoriented in a world of red, orange, and blue. He listened too. If he didn't find Agron, then he would find another Tribute to take their life and what supplies they had.

He was going to survive this arena.

C. Gannicus & OPEN ( in which Gannicus misses his audience, damn it. )

Gannicus was unhappy. This arena business was entirely wrong.

Where were the crowds? Where was that familiar, comforting roar - where was the pulsing, beastly universal scream for blood? He missed the way it filled his head, rising to match his pulse, blocking out all other worries and fears and replacing them with a primal urge to kill. It was simpler that way. Easier.

He could imagine it if he really tried - but if he really tried, then he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. And that, Gannicus knew, would be a fatal error.

The heat vision goggles were going to take some getting used to - they were heavy and weighed his head down more than he liked, but the chance to see the world in a vivid new way was far too useful to pass up. Now, he hunted the bright red shapes in the mist - distant, fleeting flashes of heat and life that darted in and out of houses and between trees as Gannicus silently skirted his way about the town. The other Tributes were out here, somewhere. The red spectres that moved through the black mist of his heat vision goggles would show him the way.

Gannicus was still unhappy, but at least he had a plan: keep moving, keep hunting - light and quick, fast and small. Remember the noise of the crowd. Give everyone a glorious death.

D. Nasir & Gannicus & OPEN ( in which god knows what happens )

Tag us with your own scenario! Nasir and Gannicus will be out roaming the arena together during the day and by night they are camping out in various different roof tops and hidey holes. Feel free to run in to them!

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Armed with a chainwhip, Venus has begun prowling the street near the shoe store. This is the time of evening when threats are most likely; there's still enough light for people to scavenge, and the fog is mostly spread, but the cloying heat of the day has subsided. The next hour will be the most active, and thus, the most deadly.

When she takes to the rooftops, she swings the chain, if only to make as if its twining weight is an extension of herself. On the ground, she carries it, hand folded around the links the piece of metal she's attached as a dart. She's a bit rusty with the art, but after the last few days she's returned to more than just competence with the metal whip. She stops as she sees someone else in the fog.

She has made no promises, to herself or anyone else, not to kill. Every person alive is another person between Ellie and victory, or Kankri and victory, or Joly and victory, or so on. She has people to get to safety. She has a show to put on.

She walks out onto the asphalt of the street and stops. She doubts she could run up and attack him from behind, but it may be safer than calling attention to herself. She doesn't know what her odds are like between a chain and Nasir's own skills.

Still. "Nasir!"

The viewers will want an impressive fight, and two gladiators should be able to provide it.

Nasir recognized that voice. He whirled around in its direction and saw the shape of a woman in shades of red, orange, and yellow. He lifted his goggles to better see what weapon she had in her hands.

"Venus."

She held a chain. That would pose a problem if Nasir's crowbar got tangled up in it and he knew she outmatched him in hand to hand combat. Outside of that he had defeated her in their sparring session but it had been close. This would be an even match.

"Do you wish to learn who will win in true combat?"

He harbored no ill will against Venus but he knew what they were here for.

"Well, I'm not inviting you to a tea party." Her face is grim, a contrast to the buoyancy of her voice. She swings the chains in a way that would look almost lazy if not for the weight of the dart making such a motion deadly. It gallops through the air in a circle.

"Come on, let's make this one for the history books." And with that she surges forward, chain moving with her as she two-steps, spins and sends the dart of it swinging at Nasir's head.

Nasir ducked. The chain cut the air just about his head. He didn't trust that he would be fast enough to keep out of the reach of the chain to buy time until Venus wore herself out. Instead he charged, bracing himself for when the chain would eventually hit him.

She whips the chain as hard as she can, and it's only because she hasn't perfected the weapon that she can't manage to hit Nasir anywhere vital, although the 'thwock' of the dart striking something (human or earth, she can't tell) is an encouraging sound. Rather than wasting time trying to retrieve the weapon, she lets it go to brace herself for when he hits her like a charging bull.

It takes her off her feet, and immediately her goal moves from attacking to putting distance between the two of them before he lands on top of her. She twist and lands on her stomach, rolling to her feet and trying to slam her elbow down on Nasir's back.

For once, Nasir was too slow. Just as he was righting himself, Venus's elbow came down on him. He lost his breath but didn't stop, rolling out of the way so he could spring back on his feet. Unfortunately, that had put more space between them. Space he'd have to close fast. He came at Venus again and hissed sharply at the pain that still radiated from his back.

The space is Venus' greatest advantage - her reach isn't that much longer than Nasir's, but he has muscle that she can't compare with. If they begin to wrestle, she won't be walking away alive.

She feints to the side and throws a kick for his kneecap, trying in vain to avoid being brought to the ground again. She gets the wind knocked out of her for her effort, and, playing dirty, brings her knee up between them, against his stomach, and snaps her foot forward to try and hit him in the groin. Blood joins her spit as she bites the corner of her mouth.

Nasir avoided the kick at his knees but he was too close when she kicked him. He tried to fight against the pain but it still sent him staggering back. He nearly dropped his crowbar but his hand tightened around it at the last minute.

Swearing, he shook his head. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

She lunges for the crowbar, hoping at the very least to get it out of his hands. If she can have that weapon, she might be able to deliver enough of a blow to stun him and finish him.

She slams her knee up at his stomach again, trying to push him off.

Nasir kept his grip on the crowbar and raised it back out of Venus's reach. He was just about to slam it down on her when she kneed his stomach. The force of it knocked the breath from his lungs, giving her more time to act.

Sound carried strangely through the fog. Gannicus had heard Nasir's name being called - a challenge, Gannicus could tell - but it had taken him a long time to find the source. Layers of fog and mist had distorted the sound, warping it in odd echoes that rebounded strangely, but finally - eventually - Gannicus had found them.

The fog had been annoying before, but it was his friend now. With the fight now a savage, full-bodied brawl Gannicus had the element of surprise on his side. He takes his time to circle, submerged as thickly as possible in the fog whilst still being able to keenly watch the two duke it out, until he was directly behind Venus in her struggle. Gannicus knows he has one chance to make this surprise count, and he certainly isn't about to waste it on being fair.

He emerges silently from the mist - no roar, no warning - with half a mind on how the crowd would cheer at his spectacularly sudden arrival if this was the arena of Capua. There's a knife in one hand - small, a folding knife, nowhere near as balanced as the weapons he is used to but far better than nothing. Gannicus throws it mid-stride, aiming for the centre of her back, and is already hefting his lead pipe in his opposing hand as he finishes the stride.

She's almost pulled herself away from Nasir when Gannicus arrives. The knife hits her lower back before she even realizes he's there, but instinct keeps her from staying stunned in one place. She throws herself to the side, even as it pushes the knife in further, in time to avoid the swing with the pipe. She stumbles backwards, putting distance between her and Gannicus - and Nasir.

The pain is blinding, the wound possibly fatal. She can't see from here how bad it is. Still, it's hardly in her instinct to die quietly or easily. Once she sees that Gannicus is coming to help Nasir and not just take advantage of a fight to stab both people in the back, she knows she's lost this fight. One on one is decent odds. Two on one is suicide.

Venus can be all for suicide, but not yet. Not now.

She nearly trips on her chain, lying still on the asphalt behind her. Fog starts to obscure her view of her foes.

"Not much of a fair fight anymore, is it?"

Now that he had time to recover, Nasir drew himself up. The pain was fading and now that he had Gannicus at his side, he felt far more confident about this fight than he had a few moments ago. Still, he was sore about the beating he'd taken. There was no telling now if he would have prevailed on his own. Though that he could live with.

He caught his breath. "If you seek fair fight, do not look for it in the arena."

He glanced at Gannicus and jerked his head toward Venus. It was a clear message: let's finish her.

The concept of a 'fair fight' was not something Gannicus was familiar with. Executions ad gladium, between several gladiators and maybe one or two chained prisoners, would probably be unfair in modern eyes - but the blame was removed from the shoulders of the gladiator. In the Arena they were told to kill, without choice, and here it was much the same. Necessity, survival, murder - absolute terms that muddled in to one in the fog of this new arena.

He didn't quite agree with Nasir's words, no - but his was the assessment of an outsider. Nasir was many fine things, but he wasn't a gladiator. Gannicus laughed - a dark, rolling chuckle that didn't sound quite as amused as it pretended to be - and he shifted the grip of his lead pipe in one heavily bandaged palm.

"The mistake is yours, in your intent to lay claim to a brother's life," He explained to Venus as he circled to one flank. "Would you not do the same for one of your own?"

"Point taken," she says, stifling a wince. She crouches down just long enough to get the chain and then steps back again, then again. She can feel the blood dribbling down the back of her calf.

She needs time to lick her wounds.

"Until we meet again," she says, and then she turns tail and sprints into the fog. It doesn't matter if she can maintain the pace, because the fog obscures her trail in seconds.

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live fast die young bad fugitivi do it well

B and then joined by Gannicus?

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apologies on the slowness!

No worries

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/time for Gannicus?

Gannicus time

GANNICUS TIME.

Re: GANNICUS TIME.

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