thearena | A Sneaky Death

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A Sneaky Death

WHO| Neeshka and Glinda
WHAT| Neeshka gets Glinda out of the arena
WHEN| Day 2, afternoon
WHERE| Just outside the ruins
WARNING/NOTES| Death will happen here! Probably slow-ish death, too.

Even before she found Wyatt again, Neeshka was a happy camper. She'd got a very useful weapon, a lot of useful stuff in her bag-- and a nice, warm coat that she'd promptly muddied up to keep the reflective bits from giving her away. She'd prowled around the ruins a bit, shot herself a rat for breakfast, and was now perched in a long-broken second story window, half-hidden in the afternoon shadows, looking down on the grass, canyon, and beach.

She was looking for something-- or someone-- to shoot.

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Hunger was beginning to gnaw away at her insides, constantly reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast three mornings ago. Her head was light and dizzy and the risk of going back to that big metal horn to see if there was any food left almost seemed worth it. Anyway, she had her branch that she could use to hit anyone who came too close to her. In the afternoon she had tracked her way back to the the ruins she had ran from, pointedly freezing and curling into a small protective ball whenever she heard even remotely a rustle of movement.

She hadn't even thought to look up when the ruins were in sight. She hadn't considered that people might be hiding in the upper windows. Glinda took her time, looking about and pausing to try what she hoped was just a very weak protection charm. Her magic didn't seem to be working at all.

The hunger forced her to dart forward toward the ruins. Lurline preserve her.

Lurline wasn't doing much preserving, it seemed. Neeshka perked up in her perch at the sudden movement, and immediately whipped out an arrow, fitting it to her bow. "Here we go. Money in my pocket," she muttered to herself, thinking of the promise of cash for kills.

She sighted, squinted, and let loose when she guessed the pretty blonde was in range, aiming for her left shoulder-- her heart. Neeshka's aim wasn't perfect, especially at this range, but she at least hoped she hit somewhere. Then she could scurry down and finish the job in person.

She wouldn't do. Fairy Princess Queens probably had better things to do such as creating other nations like Oz.

Glinda had thought that everyone was out of the area and it was safe. She was soon ridden of that thought when an arrow buried itself in the flesh that connected her torso and arm. The momentum of her run was ruined and Glinda found herself tripping and falling to her knees. In fear she looked around as she tried to scramble to cover, hand going to the wound. Her heart was racing and there was a red stickiness spilling from behind her hand. Somebody had shot her. With an arrow. Her eyes were filling with tears despite her desperate need to stay dignified.

The witch was in too much shock to feel the pain properly and her booted feet skidded on the ground choosing to run away from the ruin. She turned, attempting to beat a retreat to the cover of the forest again.

Not a clean shot, and now the blonde was running away with her arrow. Curse it. Neeshka swung over the window ledge and started swiftly climbing down. She'd shimmied up and down drain pipes and scaled rich marks' walls before. The weathered and crumbling concrete of this old building was a piece of cake. Then she was sprinting after Glinda, trying to catch up, or at least find a good place a bit closer to take another shot.

She stumbled.

It was a fatal mistake that left her falling to her knees. Glinda wasn't a woman accustomed to violence and she turned in horror to see if her attacker was perusing her, letting out a terrified shriek once she saw the other tribute advancing on her.

The witch froze in fear, looking between the arrow in her shoulder and the advancing woman. "Don't!" She cried in fear, beginning to cry despite herself.

Neeshka didn't bother running the last few steps, she just sauntered up to the... weeping girl. For a moment she paused, not sure what to do with a crying person, but then she shook herself a little. She put her hands on her hips and flicked her tail aside, looking down at Glinda with exasperation. "Gods, that's just great," she muttered, then said, more loudly, "Don't you want to get out of here? Go back where it's all-- all-- fancy parties, nice clothes, and all the food you can eat?"

"You shot me." Glinda shrilly accused, her hand rapidly staining with the red of her blood. She tried a mutter of a spell, finding it not working. She needed a bubble or something as a shield. "Come on, come on, come on bubble. Bubble." She screwed her face up in the vain prayer it might suddenly appear.

"Well, yeah," Neeshka said, looking at Glinda like she'd lost her mind. "This is a deathmatch. If it wasn't me, it'd be someone else, and probably up close with a knife or an axe or something. Now if you'll let me finish the job, then they'll bring you back to life outside the arena, and you'll be fine." She held out a hand, intending to yank her arrow back out. Maybe she could use the tip to cut her throat? That'd be quick, right?

Glinda kicked out from sheer instinct and out of fear as she attempted to scramble back. "I don't want to be here, I need to be in Oz!" Oh Unnamed God, it would going to ticktock without her. "Leave me alone!"

Apparently someone hadn't explained things very well to blondie here. Neeshka danced back, scowling, and swung her bow around to try and press the curve of its wood to Glinda's throat, half to protect herself from further flailing and half to try and shut Glinda up.

"Look. Lady whoever-you-are. You're not going home, all right? None of us are. So you'd better get used to that fast."

Glinda's fingers pushed at the wood of the bow against her neck. It was bruising her skin. She shrunk as far back against the ground as she could.

"Glinda. My name is Glinda." She told her through tearful eyes. What kind of place was this that they didn't know her from sight alone. She was a public figure.

"Well, Glinda," she said with mock patience, "I'm Neeshka. And I'm gonna send you back to the capitol. That'll be way better than running around in here, I promise. Now hold still." Still holding the bow in place with one hand, Neeshka made another attempt at grabbing her arrow by the shaft, tugging at it sharply to get it out.

The arrow let and left Glinda's shoulder as she gave a shriek of pain. She hadn't felt pain like this before. She'd never felt pain like this before. It was horrid. But this woman was promising to send her somewhere better. She pressed her hand to the wound, her hand colouring red with her own blood. Glinda could feel herself shaking. Perhaps it was the shock of it all.

Neeshka winced, and she paused a beat to make sure her arrow wasn't too badly damaged. Then she gave Glinda's bloody hand an awkward pat, an attempt at soothing, wanting her quiet before they drew too much attention from other Tributes. "Don't worry. It'll be over quick," she promised, and pulled her bow back-- so she had access to Glinda's throat. She set the arrow-head to it instead, taking a quick slice, hopefully before the Good Witch had time to react and pull back.

Her body reacted before her mind had time to register the pain or panic; curling in on herself in a purely protective gesture. She couldn't breath. The panic set in and Glinda found it was even more difficult to cry now as her hand left her injured shoulder and clasped at her throat.

Oh Unnamed God. She was going to die. Glinda couldn't stop her shaking now. She couldn't help but be terrified. All of the people left behind that wouldn't know what had happened to her. She was just going to disappear into myth like the fairy goddess Lurline. Glinda the Good, she was apparently in Oz for a while.

She tried to take a breath and was rewarded with a big fat nothing.

Oh good, that was easy. Neeshka patted Glinda's shoulder again, and said cheerfully, as she struggled and failed to breathe, "It'll be over quick. Then you won't have to be in here again for weeks. It'll be fine."

Then she wiped her arrow off on the grass and stood up, quite pleased with herself and wondering just how much her first death would win her.

The canon came relatively quick and loud.

There was nothing on her body. No items or food or anything that could have been helpful. Only a pale and still corpse.

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A Sneaky Death

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