Desert Arena: The city girl is screwed

[formersurgeon]

Who| Joan Watson and open
What| Joan arrives in the arena
Where| Desert arena
When| Middle of week one
Warnings/Notes| I have no idea! I'll update depending on what transpires :) (And oh my god, did this get wall-o'-texty...)



She doesn't think Sherlock had this in mind when he said that when you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, is the truth.

Because this is impossible. Waking up in this weird place, no memory of how she got here, and being told she has to fight to the death in some sort of Thunderdome "there can be only one" crap?

And then there's the outfit.

If Joan were familiar with Game of Thrones, she might be amused by the irony of a short attractive Asian woman dressed up like the excessively tall, unattractive, blonde Brienne of Tarth. But all she can figure is that she's dressed like Joan of Arc, which is more like a bad joke. Especially considering the "armor" is just copper colored felt woven through with shiny faux metallic strands, and won't protect her a damn. They haven't even given her a sword to go with the costume.

Clearly she's dreaming, or has been slipped some sort of hallucinogen, right? But even those theories are rapidly fading into impossibilities as all this is proving to be much too real. Apparently what she thought was impossible is in actuality just very, very improbable.

She's quiet as they prepare her, alert to any possibility of escape. They're careful, though, guarding her, clearly ready to put an end to any escape attempt. She sees no point in fighting back as they inject her with the tracker, as they bring her to the pedestal. They're more likely to injure her than she's likely to escape, and if she's hurt she'll probably have less of a chance of surviving whatever they have in store for her.

She doesn't know what to expect. And in many ways, what she's confronted with upon her release is one of the worst possible scenarios. Joan has lived in the city her whole life, and has no experience whatsoever with wilderness survival. She can't even light a fire in a fireplace. Not to mention it's hot. And sunny. Joan immediately begins to broil inside her glinting, heavy felt "armor." If she doesn't get into some shade, and soon,, she's not going to survive long enough to be killed by one of the other "tributes."

She surveys the area, and heads toward the mountains, hoping for an outcropping, a large boulder, anything to get her out of the sun. On the way she picks up a rock, small enough to carry in one hand, large enough to smash someone's skull in if she has to, and gets the opportunity.

Comments

Welp

[polyturtle]

A new person. That was the first thing Don thought when he spotted her in the distance. The second, however, was different from what he would have done in other Arenas. May as well make this quick.

He decided to make the Arena more interesting. May as well start with a newer person. And why not? It wasn't like they wouldn't be likely to be brought back. And if they weren't? Well?

It didn't matter. She was new. Better she died, then.

And so the turtle approached, his face completely blank save for the darkness in his eyes. Harley was...wherever she was. It didn't matter. It didn't matter. Little did now. Only death.

[formersurgeon]

Joan has started moving in cycles of walking a bit, then resting in the shadow of an outcropping for a bit. She can't sustain motion in the sunlight, but she also doesn't want to be a sitting target for any longer than she has to.

She's in one of her resting stages when she sees motion out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head, and frowns faintly when she doesn't see anything. Someone could be following her, though.

She stands warily, and keeps moving, glancing behind her every once in a while.

[polyturtle]

Was Joan being followed? You bet she was. Even if she herself was uncertain of it. There was a turtle following, and like a snake in the grass, he hounded her, hiding behind cacti, hills, anything which would give him cover.

Soon, she was going towards a more rocky area. Good. Silently he leaped up onto the rocks, intending to ambush her from above.

Make this quick. But entertaining. If she was getting scared? All the better for the audience, right?

[formersurgeon]

Joan starts moving a little faster, and forgoes the rest cycles. She hasn't gotten a good look at whoever or whatever it is, but there definitely is something behind her, following and gaining. She thinks about running, but she's already pretty exhausted from walking in the sun in this outfit, and if she doesn't know where she's running to, it may well just wind up with her trapped, or hurt if she took a bad step on rock or sand.

She might just have to face this person.

There's a narrow pathway between two boulders, so she heads for that. If there's more than one, she can back into the path, and they'll be forced to deal with her one on one.

Her heart is pounding as she turns, her hand tightening on the rock in her hand.

"Hello?! I don't want any trouble!"

[polyturtle]

He saw the rock in her hand. It is quite obvious that she intended to attack him with it. First order of business: either disarm her, or have her throw it. Make her lose control of her weapon. Take the upper hand completely in the situation.

And thus there was a sudden shadow overhead, the silhouette blacked in shadow by the light of the sun. A small but imposing shadow, and it was jumping down on Joan. Near Joan.

She might not want trouble. Well. Hopefully, if she doesn't manage to flee, she won't make too much of it for him.

[formersurgeon]

She sees the shadow in just enough time to not be completely surprised when he drops down toward her. She scrambles back toward the narrow passage, lifting the rock, ready to strike or throw.

It hovers, though, as she gets her first good look at him, and gapes. She thought her costume was overkill.

"God...you've got to be baking in that thing."

[polyturtle]

Donatello didn't reply. Yes, the reptile costume over his...reptile self was overkill. Maybe. He didn't care.

His knife flicked open, just before he charged. He hoped to get to her before she got to that passage. If not, he knew he wouldn't be able to follow her.

[formersurgeon]

He charges her and she races for the passage, her only out, not to mention his costume is so bulky that he may well not be able to follow her. As it is, she barely makes it in before he's on her.

[polyturtle]

He won't make it in there. But, perhaps if he was lucky, his swipe with his knife might do something. Anything. Draw blood to give him a trail if there was another end to that passage.

As it was, several swipes were all he could manage before she was too far out of reach. The next thing Joan might have known, the shadowy, turtle-like figure - who was oddly shorter than she - was jumping back up onto the rocks, and was gone.

Looking for a way to get to her. If not, he would retreat and pursue no further.

For now.

[formersurgeon]

The knife manages to slice open the felt over one of her arms and scratch the skin, but it's not deep. Once she's far enough inside, she turns back...and there's a blur of motion going upwards, and he's gone.

The passage is out of the sun, and she sinks to the rock, wearied. She listens carefully for any motion as she rests, so she knows which way to go when she's ready to run again.

[polyturtle]

Perhaps one of the best things about being trained as a ninja was the fact that he could be as quiet as a gentle breeze. The next thing Joan might know, the figure is suddenly landing in the entrance of the cave, ready once more ready to strike, to lunge.

This time, there was no narrow passage to save her.

[formersurgeon]

She's been very careful, listening, trying to tell if he was following as she made her way through the passage and out the other side. So when he drops down behind her, she's startled. She turns and throws the rock at his head with all the strength she can muster, then turns again to run. She can't stop to see if the rock connects. If it does, she needs every bit of the time it affords her to get away, and if it doesn't, she's dead anyway.

[polyturtle]

He was so close, and then--the rock. Right in his eye. He felt annoying, blinding pain, and instinctively grabbed at it, annoyed at the fact that rock got the best of him.

She was out of range by the time he came to, several seconds later. Back through the narrow passage. And by the time he would get to the other end, she'd likely be gone. He wasn't angry at her. More annoyed at himself.

Scowling, Don silently made his way out. If they met up again, make no mistake. He would kill her.