(open) Attention, all personnel. There's a loon on the loose.

[swill]

Who| Hawkeye and the unlucky who run into him
What| A crash course and a sorry welcome
Where| Heading southeast though he hasn't gotten far from the Cornucopia
When| Tail end of week 2
Warnings/Notes| Can't think of any now, but I'll update as needed

It's been a... day? One day? Had everything really happened in only one day? They could have had the goat. But did they listen to him? No. Their loss. He's long since tucked the dog tags into his shirt to keep them from sounding his presence with every step. Now all he had to worry about was him sounding his presence with every step. Twigs and leaves and mud and bugs-- it was their loss, you know. They could have had the goat. It would be quieter, possibly. --Ha! Nah. Hawkeye knew goats. You know, unfortunately. They weren't quiet, no. So that's one thing to take pride in, and he'll take any ridiculous opportunity to boast. He's quieter than a goat. He's also sweatier than one. And if he finds one, just randomly in the middle of the jungle, he'd like to eat it. It'd be like lamb, but maybe with a more wild, tangy taste. Tougher meat, but he'd still love it. Or maybe 'love' was too strong a word. He'd like it. He'd appreciate it. He's hungry. He's just so damn hungry. And so much for trying to be quiet, all non-existent survival instinct and training showing off now in his supposed time of need. There are sounds in the jungle, but Hawkeye hates to think how easy it is to distinguish between what steps belonged in the setting and which didn't. His didn't. His steps had already landed him in danger. He had already been captured by that... that one guy. He had high tailed it out of sight the second the swap was made. A prisoner exchange except he'd been the only prisoner. More than leaving with just a wounded pride -what kind of guy sets foot in a trap so soon after being labeled game?- his confidence, not that he'd had any to begin with, well... well, shit, that sure was shot. And all the while after, all he could admit to thinking was 'well, prisoner exchanges are nothing new'. And 'that went well'. And 'one day I might get used to almost dying'.

He titters. He can't hear anyone else around. His legs hurt, his stomach hurts. Maybe he should have taken calisthenics more seriously. Just maybe. There's a pole. A rod. To his left. "Uh huh."

And there's another to his right. He has no idea what they do. Are they radio towers? He didn't have a radio, so it wouldn't be worth the while to figure it out. What a lousy design! Ruin the majestic moss and rubble, all radiating green, by sticking two poles just there. "I take back what I said," he declares, again, to nothing. "I don't- I don't like this. You could have at least disguised them as trees." The rods were just there! They really messed with the atmosphere of the place.

They really helped drive the point home that he was going to die.

A death in a jungle would be, to a point, normal. Plenty of people wandered off into the wilderness, got lost. Were never found. A jungle was wild- who could blame it if it got a little hungry now and then? But this was man-made. Altered, at the very least. A planned death, one the unsuspecting sap doesn't know the day or cause of, that's... that was never good. Do you know what else wasn't good? Yelping. Yelping when you're trying to be silent and pass under the radar. But damn, Hawk could have sworn something touched his foot and something green slithered on the ground in front of him. And he hears a buzz and his break time's over. He doesn't know why -it might be because his newly found, shallow acceptance of his imminent death- but he shudders loudly and violently, all because he could. He catches sight of movement again and hop-steps forward with a hasty "Alright, alright, I'm moving already!" And move he does.

The sun's falling and he's wet and hungry and tired and lost. Drafted again. Everything's a pleasure, a joy. He finds a grin snake onto his expression. It hurts to keep but it'll do the trick.

Nobody would blame him for humming a tune. It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry. Nobody was around to criticize. He had heard and made sure. But he was sure he'd lose it if he heard nothing but birds any longer. Oh, Susanna! Oh don't you cry for me. Keeping his mind on the pitch of unsung lyrics kept it off of the rising panic and his stomach which was resolved to eat itself through. Ladies and gentlemen: the captain is here.

Comments

[doc_holi]

Holiday trailed a few feet behind him, just to make sure that no one was going to run after them. They could easily plan to ambush them in the trees, but she still doubted it. That would take effort and, really they were far too easy to pick off on their Cornucopia run. If someone was going to kill them, they would have done it already.

What a stupid move. But nothing lost and nothing earned, so it didn't really matter now.

Rebecca darted into the trees right behind him. She took a moment to stop and listen, hoping that he would be quiet for that long. For what she heard, it didn't sound like anyone else was around. All of that panic for... well, for dirt. She still observed the surrounding area, as if something or someone would come through at any moment.

Eventually, she just... nodded to him, not really knowing what to say and being uncomfortable with saying anything in the first place. He was good at talking to help with that much. That is, until she did find herself speaking. "We have a temporary shelter, a little food, if you want to come back with me."

The cave was sadly temporary. Punchy was the first to notice the ever rising tide.

[swill]

What a stupid move. Him, following her around like that and getting dragged around and hoping to keep promises he couldn't possibly uphold. Believing that she had a kid hidden, when he only had her word and she only showed him a knife. Ah well. When she shows up again he waits intently for another... order, he supposes. Or something like it. He gets a nod and wants to tell her off for it.

Then he's shocked, you know, at her offer and at the fact that it seemed to him to be sincere.

Despite himself, he finds himself grinning. Despite himself, he finds himself raising a hand and panting out, "No, no. No thanks. A little food isn't going to do me any good. I'm a growing boy." Though it would honestly do a lot better than no food at all, which is what he had to his name at the moment. "And if you make me run one more time I'm going to barf and just lay there. So forget it." He thought again about dying at the hands of another person, another-- what the hell'd they call them? Tributes? Yeah. He'd help the woman and the kids then, but only then, by his size and weight alone. If the game was survival, strictly, he'd be nothing good to them. He couldn't hunt. Couldn't scour. Couldn't keep quiet and he sure as hell would only take space and temper and food away from who needed it more. Useless was a lousy thing to be, but hey, it was the truth.

[doc_holi]

Holiday had learned in previous arenas to not argue with people who turned down her generous offers. Only one was going to live, after all, and everyone had to go their independent ways eventually.

So, when he turned her down, she just frowned and nodded again to him. Besides, there truly wasn't a lot of food and she really shouldn't have offered in the first place since she's not the only one in the little camp.

"There's a series of caves on the northern part of the island along the beach. We've made camp in one of those, if you happen to pass by there in the next few days... After that, it'll probably be underwater and we would have moved on, so don't worry about it then."

Assuming they weren't all dead, of course. Hawkeye was a likable guy, though. If he found the right person, he should be just fine, hopefully. "Good luck and... sorry about the Cornucopia. Thank you for helping me." She had nothing to give in thanks, sadly.

[swill]

Hawkeye didn't wait for her to even finish her first sentence before he was snickering, and that was hard to do when he was gasping for breath, so for a moment it even sounded like he was gagging and see what he meant by thinking he'd be no use to keep around? Jesus, next time give him a medal for running so damn fast, at least, or a pat on the back and a thumbs up. He snorts and finally gets his breath and stands up like a respectable human being instead of like a sad sack of one. It was odd to him, how one moment it would hit how dire the situation was and the next he was giggling like mad.

There were children. He waved his hand again.

He made a split second decision and decided against telling her about his claustrophobia. No caves for him, no, no. He actually might rather die.

"No, you- you watch over your kids." And he's back to being grave, just like that. Because he was talking about lives he maybe didn't know but that maybe were in just as much danger as they were. And Holiday was alright, minus the first impression. No-nonsense and he could respect that, at the moment. "You watch over the kids and-" and wait. His brows furrow. One quick question, teacher, one quick question before you go, he wants to say. He glanced back at the Cornucopia. Oh, so now he had a name for it. "Why were you expecting to find food there?"

[doc_holi]

Oh, he was giggling. She couldn't tell if it was because he had already told her no or the fact that she's telling a total stranger where she and people she loves sleep at night. She would certainly laugh for the second reason in that regard, so she manages to not shoot him a look at the last minute.

Though, she would try to make the mood a little lighter for him, considering the atmosphere, but that's exactly why she can't find it within herself. At least the arena was nice this time around, though. She enjoyed this setting a great deal more than the others.

And then the question comes and she nearly finds it shocking that he's asking that. It's been such common knowledge for her for way too long, but she keeps the surprise from her face and looks back at it.

"See those pedestals around it?" she points, where over a hundred metal rings sit all around the Cornucopia. "That's how we arrive here on the first day of the arena, in every arena. The Cornucopia is always loaded with food, weapons, armor, gear. I once got a sleeping bag and backpack of dried fruit and knives from it. I heard they've restocked it in the middle of arenas before, so I wanted to check just in case.

"The goods are limited, of course, and it's probably the most dangerous place in the arenas." She decided against telling him about the first day. He can figure that out later or in his next arena. It was always brutal. Several always die. Sometimes people come away wishing they had died. After all, she lost her right arm in the last Cornucopia. Wasn't fun.

[swill]

He just showed himself as a newborn, he thinks, and as easy as one to cut down. Hawkeye follows her gaze to the pedestals and remembers standing on one, though he had sprinted off in God knows which direction and his mind had been more on the capsule that had brought him up than what he had stood on. He listened and refrained from nodding because his headache was too great without the movement. His legs were jelly and he'd probably fall down and find a place to rest the second she was out of his sight.

He didn't even register the idea of a bloodbath. It seemed straight-forward to him.

"Yeah," he said to signal he had understood. Well, that was it. It was a simple word and strong. It signaled his learning was over, and Hawkeye could swear he felt it. "Alright." But it wasn't, of course. "Listen, Doctor, I- if you want to play doctor before you go-" ha. Hah hah, and Hawkeye snorts. "We'd probably better just go."

[doc_holi]

After a second, Holiday turned to leave, but hesitated. "What is it?"

She was really hoping he wasn't trying to slip in a one liner there, but what stopped her was that she really needed to repay him. Something she learned from Howard, actually. Never keep debts if you can help it. She would have to repay him sooner or later for helping her.

[swill]

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. She had fallen for it. And the squeak Hawkeye made, the high pitched, open-mouth, partially silent noise of glee made him hold his stomach and double over himself and made him stomp a foot on the hard mud below.

He gasps in a breath and points a finger at his cheek, and the grin he forces on isn't forced at all. "You could kiss me riiiiight here," he says, "and all my boo-boos will go away." It's such a childish posture he holds himself in, and even takes the liberty to lean a little forward. He's sure he has a scrape somewhere on his body, and if he stripped then maybe he could find it and properly point it out. But good Lord, his stomach-- he'd never run again. The hell with it. The hell with this. The poor woman- he couldn't give a damn about her anymore. She was good. She'd be fine. He was still panting, and that was ridiculous. "Kiss me anywhere and I'll return the favor."

[doc_holi]

Holiday stared at him for a moment, her first thought being that that had to be one of the most childish pick up lines she had seen from a grown man, but she smiled anyway. That reminded her of Rex far too much, even down to the leaning in and waiting bit. She hadn't indulged the boy, but she considers it with this guy.

However, there was the issue of her nanites. She still wasn't entirely certain on how people were brought back to life aside from rumors and she wasn't about to stoop so low as to use an unwilling test subject on her theories. On the other hand, a debt was a debt, so she raised an eyebrow with her smile. "I wouldn't be a very good doctor if I denied a patient service, would I?"

So, yes. She approaches again. To get so close would also be a sign of vulnerability and trust, so it was a win-win situation. "You helped me out when I needed it, so consider my offering repayment. No need for returns." 'Cause then she might have to kill him and she would really rather not for a lot of reasons. "So long as you really meant anywhere, of course."

[swill]

He squeaks again- less jubilant and more genuine. He preens. He rolls his shoulders forward and back and sucks in his gut so the change wasn't so grossly noticeable. He risks a swooping step forward, like he was pretending to be some knight and the muck underneath was a carpeted wonder of a floor leading to a ballroom- or, better, a bedroom. Holiday wasn't the one nearly falling over from exhaustion, wasn't the blind one, wasn't the unarmed wonder.

The victorious grin won't budge unless he finds himself bleeding, so the wary feeling boiling is only fair. "Should I undo a clasp?" He asks, chipper and casual and coming in closer, though careful not to suffocate her. He'd really rather the peck not be from the knife. But, oh, he's grinning. "Close my eyes?" And he would. She was alright. He would.

[doc_holi]

Holiday does actually give a bright, legitimate smile from his antics. It's been awhile, so she would have to thank him for the laugh later. If she had food or an extra weapon, she could even do so now, but alas-

She finds the fact that he's willing to close his eyes to be very nice and humble of him, so there was that, at least. "You don't have to, but thanks for the thought."

Holiday considers kissing the collar of his shirt or something, but that seemed like an unfair cop out, so she tilts her head to look for any scratches on his skin. Finding none, she leans in for a very quick kiss on his jawline, next to his ear, before leaning away again. "Thanks for helping." There. Debt repaid.