thearena | All bets are off!

Entry tags:

All bets are off! - Open!

Who:Rat and YOU!
What: Rat is using his wound to the fullest and trying to bait people in for an easy kill. Let me know up front if you're good with just a wounding or if you're okay with your character getting killed. He'll make it quick and painless! A few people are immune, especially Hawkeye. Mindy and Garrus will be attacked if you tag.

Secondly, he's a fine actor, and will be doing his best to pass as an (admittedly quite flat yet muscular) woman when people come to him. Of course, it wouldn't be flawless since he doesn't have makeup and hair supplies at his disposal. But he's wearing a rat kigurumi for his pajamas.
When: Week 2, after Shion's dead.
Where: Any floor!
Warnings: Blood, angst, etc.

He picked out a good spot, in an area where no one was. Conveniently, there was already a blood patch on the carpet from some earlier kill. He dropped to the ground. In some ways, he hadn't a choice. He untied his hair from around itself, and let it fall in a mess over his shoulders. His leg was looking ugly. Just a little bit longer. He could survive this much.

He took a deep breath, and let out a loud, despairing, decidedly female scream. He laid out on the ground, his forehead resting on his arms. His bleeding leg was quite obvious from most of the entrance points. From between tangles of his hair, he could see one of them fairly well. His knife was securely tucked in the cuff of his sleeve.

Would taking out someone trying to 'save' him make him a bad guy? Who knew? But he knew it'd get people's attention.

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He ran his fingers through some of the tangles in his hair. "This is no kind of state for me to be in to leave a good first impression. Especially with all of Panem watching." Well, at least he hoped they were.

He'd had his patience tested long enough. He moved as quick as he could before she stepped out of reach again. One hand went for her hair, to yank it down and to one side. His other had the knife out and was headed for her neck. His movements were definitely practiced and fast, but not as quick as they could be.

Beck couldn't really feel the knife sink in at first.

It settled in with a horrible slice of pain; enough to make his vision flicker. His knees shook, and he started to sag, letting out a yell as whatever was inside him twisted. Beck could feel his User flesh being torn, twisted into ways that they weren't supposed to.

He tried to push himself away as best as he could, falling shamelessly onto his butt. Everything was spinning. His ears were ringing, and there were spots everywhere...

Beck tried to push himself up, throwing the knife towards the other User has hard as he could. Forget about saving everyone. He just wanted to get a little bit back.

(( beck actually has to die this round, if you want to finish things off in a log or something? C: ))

Cute he wanted to bite out, but there was that pesky one-letter difference between it and 'cut', which, with Rat's knife pressing against his neck as it was, wasn't a great idea to be giving out. Hawkeye figured he must be more tired than he had thought himself if he didn't even move to wrangle the knife out of the boy's hands and instead only froze in place. No flinch, no wince, just the bored and impatient expression of someone tired of the game. He didn't even huff out the frustrated little breath for fear he'd be nicked, and only let Rat's words wash over him.

A tough guy. Gal. Cute.

He's released and feeling cold, still manages to find the stash and bring back only the first aid kid. Not waiting for permission, he's pushing the pajama fabric up Rat's leg, unless the boy starts thrashing, to get a better look at the wound and mess. "That's your plan?" He asks, irritation finally bleeding through. "Stay here and look pretty and do some guys in? --well I've got news for you. Your legs aren't that great."

Jesus, these kids were all insane.

He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he wasn't above messing with them a little. He didn't really flinch much, but it was more out of will than anything. "Ah, but a ballgown and some stage lights make a world of difference. For now, a pretty voice and a batting of eyelashes is enough."

He just hoped he had better ideas for the leg than Sigmund did. "What's the prognosis, Doc? The last guy wanted to cut it off and end my dancing career."

Mindy felt the seizing of her hair and actually smiled. She had really hoped this was at trap, because it had seemed fishy from the start and the overall story line was tired. Mindy had no intention of dying though, so once the hand went for her hair she jerked to life, moving her leg under his quickly and a flash of steel let him know that yes, she'd had a knife on her too.

He'd been quick, but she was smaller, faster, and had been training since her first Arena death.

Under normal circumstances, he'd be able to take that sweep, but being on his feet was actually a disadvantage to him in some regards. So he went down, but he didn't let go of her hair, so she'd be coming with him.

His bleeding leg was good for something, though. He swung it out from the hip, trying to get it on her so he could get on top. He also sliced out with his knife trying to get what he could reach.

A bleeding leg to hold her down? Come on dude, not smart. She had noticed the leg, and it was still on her mind even as they both went down. Trying to use it to hold her down, however, was a mistake, because now Mindy was wrenching it forward, narrowly missing his knife. Her movement didn't have to get too animated yet, because the leg slowed him down, and she wasn't about to let him slice her.

She rolled out and kipped up, knife in hand.

When Beck went down, Rat knew he was done for now. The last pathetic toss of his knife only punctuated it. He swatted it out of the air, earning a slight cut on his hand for his trouble. He bent over to get it.

He hobbled over to Beck, and crouched beside him. He reached down and jerked hard on the knife that had slipped out of his fingers. With a disgusting, slick, sucking sound, it came free. And with it, flowed out blood. "These knives aren't big enough to get to anything important," he added, as though the damage that had been done was merely a trifle. "You'll be fine. Unless you want me to finish you off." While he spoke, he wiped off his hands and then the knife onto Beck's clothes before his bleeding spoiled them.

Then, he started going through whatever supplies Beck might have had on him.

[[Like catch up to him later during Week 3 and finish him off?]]

He rose up on one knee as quick as he could. That put his weight on the knee of his bad leg, though, and that would not abide long. "I was rather hoping you'd come by, my dear," he said, maintaining Eve's character.

He stayed down, very much at the disadvantage here. He was counting on her retaliating for any subsequent openings.

"You were?" Mindy got a disgusted look on her face. "What are you, some kind of pedo? That's strange, man. Keep me out of your kinks."

Because seriously, pretending he was a chick and then fighting her? Kind of fucked up. The knife had not left her hand though, and she was circling him.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good this wasn't good this wasn't good...

Beck couldn't see, couldn't think. The only thing he knew right now was pain. Pain splitting from his neck down to his chest, radiating through his belly. Everything was horrible and red, and hurting.

Getting hurt as a program was always bad. But getting hurt as a User? Even worse.

He allowed the stranger to go through his things (could he stop him, anyway?), and slowly started to crawl away. Any kind of sanctuary, any little corner would be okay. Maybe he wouldn't be facing this guy when the life finally drained out of him...

(( ooc- yeah! or maybe we could even fastforward some time later in this thread and have rat finish him there? ))

He didn't take his eyes off of her. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that is far from the case. You see, that's not the case here at all. What we have here is a revenge tale for the ages. One that ancient pens have put to paper for centuries," he replied.

"Revenge?" She looked at him carefully, knife in hand. "Well, you definitely don't look like anyone I saw on my world, and I haven't really done much, so I'm gonna guess you're a friend to the pale kid I offed."

Man, maybe Azula was right about pettiness in the Games. Not that it mattered. She wasn't about to get killed off by THIS guy, especially not with as lame a trap as he had.

For an instant the Doctor's blush intensifies, then leaves him as he regains his composure, remembering he was no longer young. What a terrible joke he had played on her! Promising to protect her and then no-showing... he swore never to string a young lady along again.

Sigma sighed sympathetically at her response, surprised that was the meaning she had taken away from his question. Perhaps she misunderstood; the poor, frightened girl. "I am only asking for your permission to touch you. All I want is to patch it up, I swear. I have no intentions of amputating it." He cringed behind his calm smile. "You do not need to tell me how unpleasant it is to lose a limb."

Barbara had tried to train herself out of responding to things like this. Screams were just part of the parcel. People died - either early or late. It wasn't as if it was permanent. Sometimes it didn't even hurt.

All of which went through the redhead’s mind, every time she heard a scream. As she moved toward the voice, of course.... Maybe people who followed logic didn't dress up as a bat or play super hero.

She at least had the sense to move cautiously when she approached Rat. But it was less worry over him, and more what might have downed the "girl."

"Too bad you've only got the eyelashes," he shoots back, short and dry and everything Rat's games weren't. Banter, though, he couldn't resist. After a clear look at the gash and the swollen skin around, exposed flesh wanting to find any semblance of what it used to be to hold on to, he clicks his tongue. A simple tut, because the alternative would be to ask how or why and Hawkeye thought he knew those answers already. Something that slips from him for a moment is the mention of the Last Guy, and it isn't until he starts prying open the first aid kit and searching for an ointment, isn't until he slips a hand in a pocket of his to take out a strip of cloth, clean as can be and acting as a bandage now, it seems, that Hawkeye mouths a confused little "Who-"

Then he starts actually answering Rat's little question. "Bad."

Was that good enough for the fella? Possibly not. "I don't know what you were thinking trying to brave it out when you should have stayed off it. Is that really why you planted yourself here? It hurts you? It's infected, that's what. And unlike Whoever-The-Hell you saw before, I'm not interested in an amputation." The ointment went on the cloth strip, the tube of it unmarked, and Hawkeye only hoped the sponsors in their fucking infinite wisdom and magical medicines had given a cure-- if a solution to this mess was only that simple. And because Rat is a boy who just rubs him the wrong way, Hawkeye added, "For one, because I don't have a bone saw handy." Which was such poor form, but.

They'd live.

Rat really wasn't a cruel person. He really wasn't interested in making people suffer needlessly. This guy was certainly in a lot of pain.

"Hold still," he told him. He put a hand on his chest, a bit unexpectedly gently. He began to sing softly to himself. But he raised the knife one last time. The song wouldn't be enough for this guy. He leaned over him, and gripped his hair firmly and tightly. With one quick slice across the neck, he wasn't in pain anymore.

He smirked. "You're smarter than I thought." He let out quite the girlish giggle. "But I'm curious. What made you think he was a fine choice for your first kill? I might have gone for a harder target."

He fluttered his eyes and sighed with relief when he corrected himself. "Oh, that's alright, then." He didn't totally buy the guy's explanation. There was something weird here. He moved so he was more comfortably sat on the floor, and Sigma could more easily see the damage done.

"Do whatever you can, please," he told him. "I would be forever in your debt."

He saw a young girl come his way, but she didn't look at all like the girl he was looking for, so he wasn't on complete alert, but he wasn't letting his guard down either.

He pushed his hair out of his face. "P-Please, don't hurt me. I'm not armed!" He spread his shaking, quivering, hands out on the carpet to show that.

He didn't really fill in the blanks of how things went with the "last guy". And he left that half-asked question unanswered.

"You nag like Shion," he responded to the criticism of how he was treating his wound. "If I stop moving, then I'm probably going to get killed. And it's a fine stage to set, anyway," he continued.

He didn't know what kind of entity would make a guy like this any kind of doctor, but as long as he didn't turn on him, he wasn't going to complain about the bedside manner. He flinched severely at the ointment making contact, but he didn't make any sound. He kept his leg stubbornly in place.

Now she just gave him a dubious look. "How does that make sense? The people who are gonna be around towards the end ARE the hardest target: makes more sense to go at them when you've saved your strength, not when you tired yourself out killing hard people. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it helped I didn't know him."

That was purely the reason. Mindy, of course, could feel sickened and dirtied by it later, AFTER the Arena. She couldn't afford it now.

He shook his head, and waggled a finger back and forth like she was a naughty girl that had done something wrong. "Ah, you're playing the game all wrong. First impressions are important, you know. Didn't your mother teach you that?"

Mindy's eyes darkened, her hands tightening on the knife. THAT was not a subject he should have brought up. At all.

"Ok. You want a first impression? You don't stop with this shit, I am gonna gut you slow, unlike your friend. Look into my eyes: tell me I haven't done that before."

Oh, that was a sore spot. How interesting. No, he knew the eyes of someone that had killed before. He finally pushed up to his feet. "Yes, you've already made quite the impression. Now, are you ready for Act 2 of our little dance?"

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All bets are off! - Open!

Re: This should be fun~~

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Mind a late tag?~

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Not at all! Apologies for the late return, too

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