The Sound That's Counted So Many Days [Open]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

WHO| Howard and OPEN
WHAT| Boobytraps all up in here.
WHERE| Thunder Mountain (Frontierland)
WHEN| Week 4
WARNINGS/NOTES| None yet.

Thunder Mountain is a death trap. Howard's made it that way. A few people, like Wyatt, know how to get past the precautions Howard's set up, but otherwise it's a rather ingenious array of rigged boobytraps. In a way, Howard's actually enjoyed working on his 'security system' to the little tunnel he and Wyatt and R have occupied. It's taken time to think up, time that he could spend thinking of Eponine or thinking of dying or just thinking about the excruciating pain of having his body heal up. And then it's taken time to implement.

The bridge to the tunnel on each side has had most of the railing stripped out, and the boards on the track have been replaced by rotten ones from near the water. Pieces will fall out if stepped on. A few snares lie in wait in the darker parts of the coaster, ready to catch an unsuspecting foot. There are trip-wires, as well, some of which lead to bells or collapses of piles of stuff as alarms, and some of which tug at precariously-set coaster cars. It's not perfect, and many of the traps can be easily identified or won't work properly when tripped, but it's somewhat impressive nonetheless.

The tunnel itself has been made almost into a nest. Howard's been bringing back things from the gift shops, the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, and Tomorrowland pretty much every day. There are two makeshift beds for him and Wyatt made of ratty, moldy old towels and moth-eaten stuffed animals. A pile of netting sits off to the side, for catching fish. There's a firepit dug up, with spits made of sticks, and several thermoses full of water from the river.

Right now, while Wyatt's out checking some of the animal snares, Howard sleeps. It's a light sleep, one interrupted by wakefulness whenever there's a sharp noise, but it's rest enough. His hood is pulled up over his head, hiding his mangled face. The stolen souvenir clothing is so oversized it makes him look like a little grey and blue lump.

His hands clench around a stuffed Bagheera's leg in one fist and a knife in the other.

Comments

[blondevigilante]

Stephanie is still far too shiny to have spent that much time in the arena; it makes her stand out in a way that is far too uncomfortable for a girl who usually spends her time sitting on rooftops in the dark. Shiny and new doesn't mean weak or dumb no matter what some people in this place may say or think. She knows the largest advantage in this area is the mountain just screaming to be climbed. She also figures there's someone or something just waiting for her to play rock climber so it or they can reminder her how much gravity has it out for her. Well, too bad Gravity, I'm totally scaling these concrete walls.

It isn't hard to start her climb since the mountain is for show and there are plenty of areas to "safely" make her way up. The stupid outfit slows her down and occasionally trips her up. There's evidence that someone was here. Is here. Maybe. The whole place is too prop heavy to give real clues on how recent the mountain visitors were, but then she gets to the bridge and a little voice that sounds way too much like O to be comfortable is telling her to look at how worn and warped those boards are. She knows how to cross this bridge and gives a silent thanks to Bruce and Babs for putting her through her paces.

Easy peasy, Batgirl.

She's across and in the tunnel of the mountain. Perfect place for traps. Stephanie is in Batgirl mode and although she lacks the fancy tricks of the suit she still knows what to look out for in the dark. Sticking to the wall and sliding foot over foot she makes it through and sees a makeshift camp up ahead.

Taste the victory, Steph.

Of course Bruce and Babs never made her train while dressed like the next Disney Princess. The back of her skirt catches on a wire and a pile of metal parts falls to the ground.

"Victory cancelled."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard jerks awake immediately from his little lump of clothing and stuffed animals in the corner. He's flipped the folding knife in his hand open even before he gets to his feet. Muscles tense, his breath quickens. Every cell in his body is on alert. His eyes fall on the intruder at the base of the cave, not twenty feet from him.

Too close. Much too close for comfort. He forces his face into a serious, deadly expression, instead of one of just fear. His face is already intimidating enough due to the gore of it - there's still a solitary bandage covering the hole straight through his cheek to his mouth, but the slit down his throat makes it appear that he's drooling blood, and the parantheses-shaped chunks out of the rest of his face are still black, red, purple, though they no longer weep.

But that's where the intimidation ends. He's short, and the baggy clothing only makes it more evident that his frame is slight at the best. He keeps his weight on one leg to keep it off an injury on the other. One hand presses against the wall behind him; the other points the knife in Stephanie's direction.

She looks fresh into the Arena, toned rather than skinny and underfed, without pieces taken out of her. And she was good enough to get past the bridge without instruction. He's honestly scared of her, and it manifests in a little tremble that rings from his wrist to the tip of the blade.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Well, probably not the best way to sound like someone in total control of the situation.

[blondevigilante]

Her hands fly up in a gesture of surrender. This guy is in a bad way and armed, never a good combination on a normal day. Steph has doubts that the Arena has anything resembling a normal day.

"Nothing! I was hoping to get a lay of the not so Magical land." She could disable him; he's injured and she's still healthy, but other than being afraid he hasn't shown himself to be any real threat. Crap.

She brings her arms down slowly so not to scare him. "I'm Stephanie."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

He lowers his arm slightly, but doesn't put the knife down. He looks around, but he doesn't see Wyatt nearby.

"You should have been able to tell this was a camp from out there." He gestures with the blade to the mouth of the tunnel, the bridge she had to cross. "You hoping to steal?"

A strange little giggling hiccup bubbles out of his chest, a sound of fear he's been trying to tamp down. Keeping up a tough-guy act isn't just hard; it's impossible.

[blondevigilante]

Steal? She frowns at that. "I don't steal, okay."

There isn't much light coming from outside, but there is enough to see that this guy is seriously injured. Steph inches forward as she takes off her cloak. "What has this place done to you?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Oh, even better, then you're here to kill me." The knife comes back up a bit. He startles a bit when she removes her cloak, not sure if she's about to turn it into a garrotte or reveal a weapon hidden underneath.

"I ran into some of the other players. That's all. That's all."

[blondevigilante]

Her eyes roll as she keeps moving closer, tossing her cloak to the floor so she can sit on it. "I don't kill people. Come here." She tries to give a relaxed grin, but nothing about this situation is relaxing in the least bit. "Guess I'm not exactly the sort of player they hoped they'd get."

Stephanie's hands reach under her skirt and there's a ripping sound before her slip makes an appearance. "Okay, they get one point for overdoing it on the costume thing."

[knifewithnoname]

In the end it was boredom that drew her away from Tomorrowland and to the other areas. She knew how to be careful but she hadn't seen anyone for days and she was restless.

She had climbed into the ride for mostly the same reasons and was keeping an eye out for the weird monster things that sometimes appeared. She saw the traps, not all of them but enough. It should have been enough to make her back off but she was interested, she had been taught how to make traps like this but these were way better than most the ones she could make. She sneaked around examining the few she could find, careful not to trigger any.

Of course sneaking around a place filled with traps only had one conclusion, she tripped a wire causing an alarm. She had to get out fast.

Of course getting out in a hurry was harder than getting in carefully and slowly and her foot got caught. She cursed and took her folding knife, sawing through the wire as best she could, glancing upwards checking for threats, or people, shoes swinging in her free hand.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard's just waking up when Pruna trips the alarm. A windchime, laid on its side and ripped off the shelf by the tug to swing. He makes a mental note that it isn't loud enough to serve as an alarm for when he's sleeping. He grabs the knife and rushes down to investigate, after taking a second to realize that just because he knows there's someone here doesn't mean he knows what to do with them. He could run from them or he could defend the territory. He has to see who it is first.

"Moody Blues!" Howard's footfalls echo in the tunnel; he runs his hand against the wall to keep from slipping, only managing to avoid tripping over the rail tracks because of the sunlight trickling in and illuminating them.

The fact that it's the little girl doesn't make him relax even a little.

"The hell are you doing here?"

[knifewithnoname]

The girl's nose wrinkled when she realised who it was and she continued swinging her shoes, bringing her knife away from cutting to point it at the man.

"You do be still being alive then?" She shrugged, "I did no be knowing it did be being yours."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"So it's just someone else you were going to rob?" The two knives point at each other. "And yeah, I'm alive. Do you not watch the fireworks at night?"

[knifewithnoname]

"No! I did no be knowing this did be belonging to anyone! It do no be having no sign!"

She shrugged, she might have missed them a couple of nights thanks to being injured, or hiding in places she couldn't see the sky from. "Are you going to be killing me?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"What, you think all these traps set themselves? Are you that stupid?" He glances down to the knife in his hand, considers it...no.

"No. I'm not killing anyone today."

[hi_there_aliens]

Part of him was honestly surprised that he'd survived so long. The other part wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth.

He was never going to forget the way the female Tribute had slunk back like some sort of animal, eyes glittering in the darkness before flickering off, and that snarled promise. She'd wanted blood, and hadn't gotten it. He got the sinking feeling that he was a dead man if she got a second chance. This Tribute wanted his head, and she'd want it doubly since she'd been driven off. From then on, Daniel found himself keeping an eye on the sky at night, listening for the booming roll of the canons. It wasn't something he enjoyed doing, seeing the stream of the dead play out. The Capitol made it look like so much sports statistics. You wouldn't know it was a rising body count with the way they played it off. He didn't wish death on anyone here, but part of him needed to know if she was going to be stalking him.

So far, it looked like she was still alive. Daniel kept hold of the piece of rubble. From this point on, he carried it at his side, just in case. He needed to find somewhere safer than the ruins of Adventureland. He'd been ambushed each time there, and what he really wanted was somewhere enclosed and higher up, so at least he could see someone coming.

Daniel stopped outside a red, false mountain. He had to fumble through his memory for a moment before he came up with the attractions name. No, not the Matterhorn. It was the one with the train, the one he'd refused to go on. Thunder Mountain, that had to be it.

Shifting the rubble from one hand to the next, Daniel started in, slowly and searching for any sign the place was occupied.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Outside Thunder Mountain, Howard and Wyatt have taken care to make it look as if the attraction is unoccupied. They know that having a ride look as if there are people camping out there is just begging for the resident psychos, as Howard calls them (when he's not simply referring to them as 'childhood-ruiners') to come looking for a blood bath. Whenever there are multiple cannon shots, Howard has to brace himself.

There are clear signs throughout the tunnel in Thunder Mountain, however, that someone's been here. Aside from the more obvious traps - snares, small piles of garbage and wind chimes with trip wires - there are footprints, a size 4 shoe ringed with the black and brown imprints of dried blood. A few bloody handprints track their way up one of the walls, barely visible in the dim light. There are discards, too; soiled bandages that were tossed away, knickknacks that Howard's been picking up from the gift shops, pieces of metal and carved-up wood that was to be used for other traps that never meshed into a completed project. A repurposed ethernet cable holds the skinned pelts of cats and rats to dry - at least fifteen of the latter and two of the former. In only a week, Howard's managed to make something of a hoarder's nest, which only becomes more evident the further up the tunnel Daniel goes.

Howard, for his part, is asleep at the mouth near the top, where it's hardest to enter at, currently hidden from Daniel's view by a fake rock at his back and the pile of clothing and towels he's using for warmth. The sun is shining on him, and it wakes him slightly, enough to makes a little noise and roll over.

At Daniel's foot is a trip-wire that ties to a coaster car that's been precariously propper higher up in the tunnel. Hitting the wire will send the car rolling forward, possibly as dangerous speeds. At the very least, it'll make a lot of noise. Most of the traps here are more to serve as a alarms so Howard can escape than as fatal machinations.

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel almost turned back at the first snare. It wasn't that the sight of a trap or two were a good Keep Out sign for him. He'd seen enough on a few sites. Granted, nothing like Indiana Jones. No giant boulders, no blow darts, although some part of him would have been a very happy man to have come across those - just think, complex mechanisms that said quite a bit about the culture's engineering and how delicately they could pull it off (pressure-sensitive plates rigged to walls, especially), and working-order after so many years.

It was what the traps implied about the place that had him almost turning around. He was looking for a place to safely sleep from, somewhere that would be harder for other Tributes to find him. It looked like someone was here. Or had been here. Daniel found himself stepping carefully over the trip-wires, traced their path up to wind-chimes. Stepped over the garbage and negotiated his way past the snares.

Handprints stained the walls. In the dim light, they were barely visible. Daniel leaned in, studying the them. Blood, and not exactly recent, but not as old as the rest of the park. Maybe someone had come in here, hurt, Daniel wondered. Was it too late to help them? Had they gone since then, or died? The bandages that followed had their own story to tell.

The path opened near the top of the mountain. He took his time, going slowly. It took him a good twenty minutes to get here, each step checking and double-checking nooks and crannies, the roof and walls, looking for signs of traps. Daniel's foot caught, just barely on the trip wire. He pulled his foot back. Lightly circling the wire, he traced its path towards the mechanism it's attached to.

Jesus.

let me know if I should change anything

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

The car tips a bit, making a scraping sound against the cement, but doesn't lurch forward. The sound, however, is all Howard needs. His eyes snap open and he sits up, as if waking from a bad nightmare, and a jerk works up his spine as waking up opens his mind to the physical pain he's in. He twists around, out of the pile of clothing and towels he was nestled in and out of the shelter of the rocky bluff, his knife already in hand, and looks at Daniel.

Too close. Daniel got way too close for comfort. The intruder's only a few yards away, and now that the final trap of the car has been navigated, he could have gotten to the top and killed Howard in his sleep had Howard been resting more deeply.

"Who're you? How'd you get up here?" The gash down Howard's lip and chin, and the unchecked bloody saliva that collects there, gives Howard's voice a sick, sibilant bubble-and-hiss on his consonants.

He sizes Daniel up. Daniel's shoulder is bloodied, and some of the blood is fresh red rather than dried and brown, so that means the wound is relatively recent. Daniel's taller than him, although he looks hungry, looks tired, and Howard doesn't see a weapon. He suspects Daniel could still take him in a fight, but that's nothing new to Howard.

Something about Daniel looks sturdy, something unseen, and he reminds Howard of tempered metal. Or of warped, uncracked plastic.

He doesn't know what Daniel sees when he looks at him; Howard's skinny body is largely hidden in oversized Disney Store clothing, and the frightful mutilations to his face could either be seen as intimidating ("you should see the other guy") or an invitation to pick off the injured straggler while the getting is good. Certainly, the fact that the hand holding the knife is trembling doesn't speak to Howard's killer instinct.

"I don't want to hurt you," Howard says, voice cracking with youth. "But I will if I have to."

It's perfect! :)

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel almost pulled the lead himself from surprise and nearly bringing the cart crashing down anyway. It was only luck that he'd started to let go. Daniel straightened. Hidden from the his sight was a smaller Tribute. He couldn't be what? Seventeen maybe? He had one of those faces were you couldn't be entirely sure.

"I walked in," Maybe not the right time for a slightly glib or mostly unhelpful answer.

Daniel held up his hands, his shoulders sending a sting at the movement. The archaeologist's face was tight with weariness and the pain, but he tried his best not to look threatening. Normally he did pretty well in that regard. Maybe a little too well.

Right now however, Daniel was very much aware how this looked. Innocent wasn't one of them. Even though he had no intention on ambushing any tributes. Here was a teenager, bloodied but still alive, and clever (and desperate) enough to set all these traps, and caught unawares. Daniel himself was a good six feet or so, more built than the kid. The rough stone of the rubble in his right handed was a guilty weight. It probably didn't look very good. It probably looked even worse once he got around to explaining that really, this wasn't what it looked like.

"I don't want to hurt anyone either. I'm Daniel. You?"

Re: It's perfect! :)

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Drop the rock," Howard says, stumbling over his words as if going through the motions of being in control is helping him to believe they're on even footing here. He gestures at the rock with his knife. His other hand, the one all bandaged up around the palm and knuckles, he holds to his chest, and the fingers are curled at an arthritic angle, the fingertips purple and grey. "You can outwrestle me anyway, so just - just drop the rock."

He leans to one side to take weight off his injured leg. He really is a mess. He never thought he'd be envying someone with what appears to be a significant shoulder injury. He keeps trying to place Daniel, to glean as much information as he can from the few cues he has. He could be anywhere from thirty to forty, maybe even older or younger, who knows - stress has a way of aging people, of bringing out their cheekbones and writing lines under the eyes. Underslept, harried, apologetic, almost. Floofy hair that means that before the Arena, Daniel was somewhere with running water. Feet flat on the ground, rather than in a combat pose.

Howard wants to say Daniel's isn't the face of one of those sickos who runs around the Arena taking joy in all the carnage. He really does. And maybe Howard isn't so damaged that he can't spare a little hope, so he lowers the knife. He doesn't put it away, but he lowers it.

"I'm Howard." He takes a breath and, after a moment of consideration, uses the armed hand to wipe sleep from his eyes, yawns. "I'm not playing. I promise."

[dieinpajamas]

There's a part of Alpha's that's rather impressed with Howard's set up, considering the kid's age, but most of Alpha is not so generous and he's not in the best of moods, so he slips through the traps with relative ease. Howard's got obvious experience, but Alpha's a genius several times over and he's not up to being kind to Howard's ego, even with the intention of simply messing with Howard's head.

He makes it into the tunnel where Howard's asleep in silence, and when a quick glance around doesn't reveal any food or anything else he'd be interested in stealing just then, he shrugs and grabs a thermos, dropping his attempts to be quiet as he does so.

He hasn't seen Howard's face yet, tracked him from a distance and behind to see where he was holing up, but he's got a decent set of scars himself, burns on the side of his face just shy of his eye and on the delicate skin at the corner of his mouth, together they'll make quite the sight.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard murmurs a little in his sleep. "Wyatt?" He rubs at his face with the hand with the folded knife, then pauses, remembering as he wakes that he isn't supposed to touch the injuries any more than necessary. He rolls over.

And sees not Wyatt, but Alpha.

He shrieks without even meaning to. He jumps to his feet, casting the bedding aside, one hand at his knife. Alpha looks like something from a nightmare, with a good third of his face looking like candlewax and saran wrap. At first, Howard's not sure he isn't dreaming; goodness knows Alpha's shown up enough times in his subconscious.

But the pain that racks Howard's body reminds him he's awake. He presses himself against the wall of the tunnel, trying to figure out what the fastest way to bolt would be.

[dieinpajamas]

Alpha is motionless while Howard wakes and screams, just watches the display with an amused expression. He takes a drink while Howard's clearly debating how to run, draining half the thermos, before he speaks.

"I've had worse welcomes." He waves a hand at Howard's face. "I can see you've been doing well."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"How'd you get in here?" Howard asks, swallowing hard. Maybe Alpha wants an alliance again, but Howard doesn't have the guts to tell his previous almost-murderer that he's found a different crew to hang with this time. "What are you doing here?"

And after a pause, Howard delivers a rather hypocritical, "and what happened to your face?"

[dieinpajamas]

"I walked," Alpha says simply, and that's an over exaggeration of how easy he found it to slip into Howard's hideaway, but no reason to give him a big ego. Or any hint of self-esteem, really, Alpha's never been fond of it in his puppets. "We haven't really been keeping in touch, thought I'd rectify that.

"You first," he says, taking a seat, making it clear he's there to stay for the moment, for however long he wants to. "Looks like you tried to headbutt one of the Donald Duck impersonators to death." He takes another drink and adds, thoughtfully. "Or did you get on the bad side of your old buddy Anonymous or whatever ridiculous name he calls himself?" The hypocrisy of this statement is not something Alpha dwells on.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"I know. I don't call, I don't write. I'm the worst." Howard's trying to joke but his delivery's all off, as if it would be a snotty rat comment but it's been so mangled by fear that it's a dead animal by the time it hits the air.

It doesn't matter that Alpha intentionally butchers Aunamee's name - Howard's face still loses some of the blood in it, and he looks vaguely sick. "No, not Aunamee. Draco Malfoy, don't know if you know him, he cursed someone into biting my face off. Or something. I don't know."

He didn't expect to be swapping war stories with Alpha. He doesn't really like this turn of events, although it's better than getting killed, at least. "And you look like you forgot how to stop, drop and roll, for the record."