OTA Action Post

[theworsekind]

WHO| Tate Langdon & You!
WHAT| Trying to leaving Cornucopia island
WHEN| After first night, afternoon
WHERE| E-5 to Q-4
WARNING/NOTES| None at the moment, but is open to attacks - feel free to mess him up, or start an alliance!

Tate felt like he was in Rambo having to find a way to carry the machete between his teeth in order to swim with it. He felt like he looked ridiculous, but it wasn't really the time or place to care how you looked. All that mattered was survival and taking out the other tributes. He couldn't afford to waste time as he quickly got into the water and worked to swim towards the larger island, staying by the reefs and not getting in too deep.

His head kept turning and watching for other tributes as he approached the new shore. Although he couldn't feel the temperature, the water would weigh down his clothes, causing him to stop and wring them out, stripping his shirt in the process. He was content when the machete would sit well hanging from his belt.

Comments

[buildingreality]

"I doubt that," she replied, almost morbidly amused. She'd wounded him enough that he'd be slow moving at this point; that in and of itself brought a curve to her mouth, a sort of bizarre smile that she hadn't thought herself capable of.

He was stumbling, wielding his weapon like she might just run into it of her own volition. It was a sort of laughable moment, and Ariadne was pleased to see him in this situation. He deserved it, after all that he'd done in the last pair of Arenas.

Maybe now he'd start seeing her as a threat.

[theworsekind]

He didn't stand a chance if she tried to come at him now, despite him trying to puff up his chest and appear dangerous. He did however come to his senses and realize what he had to do: retreat. And with that he faced toward where her voice and come from as his feet began to walk backward. "Fuck you!" he spat sensing her amusement. She had won this round, this battle, but he'd find her. He was determined of that.

[buildingreality]

Ariadne would wait for that. She'd gotten away, without so much as a scratch, from a confrontation with Tate. That was enough for her for now. She'd let him stumble away, take his time and figure out some way to heal that head wound. Or not. Maybe he'd bleed out on the way, and the next time she'd see his face would be high in the sky above them.