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revvinguptheharley) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thearena2013-12-01 07:15 pm
She tastes funny
What: Let's just hope it's not mating season.
Where: All around the island
When: Week seven
Notes: Harley's death and probably a few others
It had started with that button.
Harley loved the button...really she did. She didn't understand why more people didn't play with the button. It had been the cause of such beautiful chaos in the arena.
But the more Harley played the game the more it became apparent that the rest of them were just big party poopers. They wouldn't come play with the button or her. She tried to hunt them down using her fancy new TV watch but everyone just kept moving. It was beginning to be a real drag.
"How can a place with so many tributes seem so empty!?" She cried to the sky.
And that's when "they" arrived.
Eyes blinking out of the shadows. Teeth gleaming in the darkness as they crunched through the bushes with no fear or stealth.
After all, what did they have to fear from Harley?
Not wanting to waste her precious weapons fighting a crew of raptors she tried to out run them. But every time she slowed for too long, inevitably they would find her and the chase began anew.
All too late she realized the cause. The last time she'd hit the button it had hosed her down with something smelly. Something icky.
Something that the raptors apparently liked alot!
And so they began the worlds deadliest game of tag. Harley racing about the arena like the lunitic she was, trying the most elaborate and unpredictable paths, and her raptor suitors in constant pursuit.
Desperate to slow them down Harley's mind turned to the watch she had been gifted by that treacherous red button. Using it to switch from camera to camera she tried to find some of the remaining tributes. Maybe she could pawn off one or two of these grinning goons on them!
no subject
Joan went down, one foot twisting hard against a root, and she cried out as she felt something in her ankle pop.
Not good. SO not good.
"What the hell???" She pushed herself up to sitting and blinked at the blonde. It was the woman she had met running intel for the alien invasion.
"Harley?"
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"Oh hey there J.W. Funny running into you in these parts."
There was a rustling and some low chirping sounds that would alert the women to the Raptors imminent arrival.
"Aw nuts." Harley looked back over her shoulder. "Um...listen, what's your favorite dessert?"
no subject
Shit.
She slowly pushed herself up to her feet, and nearly fell over again when she tried to put weight on her twisted ankle.
"Favorite dessert?" she hissed, limping backwards from the rustling and chirping of what was likely certain death. "Seriously?"
no subject
"And I can make those jokes because I'm Jewish."
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"Fine. Yogurt parfait. Strawberries and blueberries."
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And without warning Harley leaned down planting a quick kiss on Joan's lips and dropping a poison dart, and a bottle of cheap painkillers into her hand.
And with that Harley had bounded around her and was scrambling into the forest again. The choice would be up to Joan now. "SORRY!" She shouted over her shoulder.
And sure enough, the raptors came thundering down the hill.
no subject
And fell. Hard.
Three of the raptors broke away from the rest and circled her. Joan made a stab at one of them, but the dart was effortlessly batted away. They moved around her, chittering. She was shaking, but managed to push herself to her feet, to stand and face the death that prowled around her. She looked up at the sky, hoping Sherlock and John were not watching.
Then the dinosaurs descended on her, and she screamed as she was ripped apart.