thearena | (no subject)

Who| Sherlock, John, Joan, Punchy, and OPEn
What| Sherlock decides to build a computer.
Where| In the Parking Garage
When| Endish of Week 2
Warnings/Notes| None yet, beyond the general warning of Sherlock being a complete tosser.

He'd been collecting pieces for days. Dissembling anything he came across that could possibly have electronic components in it, building a slowly growing pile of loot where Joan had been stashed while John built her a brace. Eventually, though, she was able to walk again, and Sherlock made the decision to make the final push.

Dragging his companions back to the parking garage with his trusty crowbar in tow and only a few broken ribs, he had all his components wrapped in various pieces of clothing stolen off the backs of glaring manikins. He would have to thank Timaeus for the crowbar later, but for now it was going to come in more useful than the man probably meant it to.

His aim was a vehicle, and he managed to find one that hadn't already been totaled by the other tributes.

"Stand back," He murmured to John and Joan as he angled into the window and cranked the door open before sliding inside. Checked the glove compartment, smirked a thanks to Punchy and drew out the key to hold it up.

"Well. Time to build a computer."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It said something about how desensitized Carlos had become to blood, gore, and self-performed surgery that he didn't even bat an eyelash at Punchy offering to cut the transmitter out of his own arm.

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Carlos. "We're being watched by the Capitol, and I imagine the Capitol wants these tracking devices where they are. I don't think we could take one out, Punchy, not without serious repercussions."

Sherlock looked at Punchy's arm, seriously considering it. "Well, we could always put it back after we were done," He mused, though a slight flicker of a conspiratorial smile traced across his lips.

"Sounds like a plan. Don't sweat it, Carlos, Capitol ain't gonna do shit to us." Punchy starts rooting for a knife. "Lemme just-"

And that's when the fire alarm goes off. No idea how or why, but in the echoing confines of the garage the alarm is deafening. Punchy clap a hand over his ear and ducks to the ground as the acid rain starts to fall, shoving Carlos towards the door in a remarkable show of altruistic awareness given the circumstances and surprise.

"What the fuck?!"

Oh no, Punchy's shove just added momentum to Carlos's sprint for the door. The moment he heard that alarm, Carlos knew it couldn't mean anything good. Even though it sounded like a fire alarm, Night Vale's standard spider-filled sprinkler systems were what he was used to, and like hell was he going to stick around.

He got to the door, to outside of the area of effect, then turned around and yelled: "Punchy! Get under something! Hurry!"

Sherlock had already been standing next to the car's open door when the alarm went off. It was pure instinct that had him throw himself inside and slam the door behind him before the rain began. It was only once he snapped his head back and realised that he'd locked Punchy out that his chest lurched. He slammed his fist on the glass.

"PUNCHY! RUN!"

Punchy's already out - as soon as he realized Sherlock and Carlos weren't about to die, he went about the task of saving himself. Unfortunately, the only option is the elevator.

It really isn't safe to use an elevator when the fire alarm is going off, he thinks, and yet there he is. He gives Sherlock a wave, can't see where Carlos went but knows he's outside the danger zone, and manages to only collect minimal burns before the elevator doors close like a giant metal eyelid.

He'll have to find them later.