thearena | and when he dreams; open

Entry tags:

and when he dreams; open

Who| Joel and You?!?!
What| Ellie is dead. Joel is very, very upset. And out for blood.
Where| Sixth floor mostly - but he's on the move so he can be anywhere in the upper floors.
When| First half of week 4
Warnings/Notes| Very possibly violence, definitely swearing, fantasizing about brutally murdering people, and mentions of the gruesome death of children.

Ding.

He almost didn't hear it, keeping away from the elevator banks as he was. Even in this state, even lost in the memories, both recent and more distant, the blood soaked into his clothes and the bandages on his hands -- he knew better than to approach the elevators without caution.

Ding.

His thought wasn't to get supplies. His thought was to find whoever else might've been stupid enough to follow the sound, poke their head out to see. He had a crowbar, and he wanted nothing more than to smash someone's head in with it, watch the blood and brains splatter everywhere, know that he was getting rid of someone who would've wanted to hurt Ellie, hurt Sarah, hurt his baby girl.

But Ellie was gone. Sarah was gone. The soldier was dead. Aunamee... He didn't know where Aunamee was.

Ding.

The elevator doors were open. No one else was around. Joel crouched behind a display case, ears open for sounds nearby. Nothing. Nothing but the canister that sat in the elevator. Fine. If someone wanted to kill him, they were welcome to. Joel shot forward, grabbing it and dashing back for cover.

It wasn't until he ducked into the restroom that he finally got a good look at it - saw that it had his name on it, saw that it had a note attached. For him.

I'm alright. Still here. I'll see you on the other side. -Ellie

Bandaged hands shaking, he sank to the floor, a choked sob echoing off the walls.

-----

[ooc: feel free to intercept him on his way to/from the elevator, in the restroom, or write up your own starter for Joel to stumble upon!]

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Sobbing was not the kind of thing that screamed "I'm about to murder someone." Sobbing meant sadness or relief or being overwhelmed or all of the above.

That and the fact the voice sounded almost familiar was enough for Guy to investigate the source of the sob, cautiously pushing the door to the restrooms.

"Someone sounds sad in here so I'm here to be nice," he babbled, "don't kill me and I won't kill you."

She was halfway between the fifth and sixth floors when the sprinklers turned on. The sharp pain didn't register, but the sudden expansion of gas across the stairs did and suddenly Max found herself racing to the sixth floor and diving through the gates. She let out a heavy breath as she tumbled into a nude wax figure. Now that she was still Max could feel the pain as her skin froze.

Quickly she tore off her pack so that she could grab the first aid kit. Thin fingers unzipped the top of her pajamas, uncaring that someone could ambush her, and hoping the small drops that had gone down her back hadn't left her skin in too burned. So far she'd made it relatively uninjured despite the small scuffles she'd been in, but she knew a tiny burn could quickly hinder her ability to protect herself and her allies. There was no reaching any burns on her back, but she did cover what she could in antiseptic cream. Already she thought she could feel a small blister or two forming on her back. She was beginning to hate this world.

"You didn't know."

She was here. Quiet, hiding, waiting. She had lost track of Aunamee but that didn't mean she wasn't looking, wasn't hiding and waiting. He would be running, and eventually, she would find him. But now she needed to bide her time. More importantly, she wanted help.

And this was exactly the guy she needed.

"How much time do you need before you get up and we look." Her tone was curt, quiet. She wasn't in an arena mood now: she was n a hunting for a perp mode.

The voice had him scrambling up before he even grasped what it was saying - what he was saying. Crowbar halfway to his hand before he realized he recognized it.

"Goddammit," he said, voice rough with emotion, exhaustion, pain, everything. But without much actual venom. "You gotta be more fuckin' careful who you walk in on. And I don't need anything."

Anything. Nice. Company. What he needed was something to do.

Ambush was right. Joel was lying in wait, hoping for someone hostile enough to warrant throttling.

Unfortunately, a kid didn't qualify. Even now, with Ellie gone, all alone, Joel couldn't just hurt a kid. It was like ripping his heart out all over again, but you should help people when you can ran through his mind, in her voice, like she'd become his conscience somewhere alone the line.

She had, in a way.

"D'you need any help?" he asked, stepping out from his hiding place, keeping his voice low, nonthreatening, hands up to show he meant no harm.

A lot of things were warring within him - the desire to be alone with his grief for a while; memories of twenty years ago, of the way he'd never been able to grieve properly for Sarah, in the middle of the outbreak; Ellie's face hovering over him those cold, cold weeks in Colorado as he drifted in and out of consciousness; Ellie's body, tiny and soaking wet and not breathing in Salt Lake City; Ellie's body the other day, still and going cold and seeping with blood; the desire to just hit, punch, beat, kill.

Now, another girl. Wanting him to get up. Get up and we look. Look, for what?

Aunamee.

Yeah, that was it. That was exactly what he needed. In the canister, along with the note which he shoved into his bag, was food. Couple of days' worth, he thought, like the last one he got. He stowed it away, letting the canister roll away, empty, under the door of a toilet stall. Then he stood.

"Let's go find him," he said to Mindy.

A small smile formed on her face. It wasn't easy for anyone to get up and walk after they lost someone they cared about, so she knew that he was running on reserves. She walked over to him, gesturing to her bag.

"Need any water, some food or something?" You must have had a rough couple of days, from wherever you were."

He waved the offer off, and pointed at the empty canister. "I'm fine. I don't need much."

It was true, too. He'd gone for twenty years eating whatever he was able to scrounge, and he'd taught himself how to keep going on minimal food intake. He didn't need food right now.

"You got any idea where to find this guy?"

Even better. This made sense though: Joel and Ellie lived through a lot of shit together, so this arena was likely just another roll of the dice in staying alive.

"Good to know. Unfortunately no, or I woulda cornered him by now. I sorta drew a map from one I'd seen earlier, but I haven't caught him yet. The fucker must be laying low."

She was quiet a moment. "How long did last, after?"

The echoed sobs drew Cuthbert's attention easily. But while he might normally come right in with the intent to kill whoever was making themselves such a target, he froze when he saw just exactly who it was.

He hadn't seen much of this particular tribute, but he already reminded Bert of people he knew from home. Which just made the tears hard to handle.

"Sai, calm down or you'll be killed like this."

Bert took the chance and knelt down beside Joel to try and comfort him.

Joel took a deep breath, focused on checking his other supplies before heading out. Crowbar, sleeping bag, food stores, a few other things he'd picked up from the gift shop before that whole section had been obliterated.

His hands would need rebandaging, but that could wait.

"Not long," he said shortly - she didn't suffer. It was sorta true. She'd lingered longer than he would've liked, in a lot of pain, but the less Mindy knew, the better, as far as he was concerned.

Joel looked up at the stranger, his gaze hard, distant, lost in pain and memories.

"What makes you so sure that's not what I want?" he asked gruffly.

She can't stay in the elevator shaft forever. Cindy obviously knew that, and had planned her forays into the rest of the museum carefully. She went to get food and water, check out the situations on the different floor, and then see what she could grab in the way of weapons. Not that there were many left, all things considered; everyone was smart and got what they wanted right off the bat. Which is exactly what she had done, but it made sense to double check.

And then it was right back to the elevator. Except the third floor was toast, and that meant she had to figure out new ways for her to get where she wanted, and get what she wanted.

Why Cindy was out this time? On the search for food, while keeping an eye out for anyone who might be around. You had to be careful, and with the weeks going on, the group was dwindling down. Turning the corner, she thought she saw something(someone) out of the corner of her eye, and she flattened herself against the wall, knives out and ready.

Mindy watched him, frowning. "Dude, you fucking suck at lying. The least you could do was turn away while you said it, I might have believed you. But they'll revive her of course. She's got a bye now, if you think about it: the little girl and her protective father figure. You're helping her more than you know."

Which was why, of course, her situation was a little different. Her things were packed and slung on her back: she had more than exercised enough for it.

"Hey, your hand. We should probably fix that up. If we find the guy, we don't want to give him an advantage."

Aunamee. That was the only thing running through his head for the past couple of days. Ellie was gone, but someone had killed her, had ripped a hole in her and left her to bleed to death on the floor of the museum. Aunamee had done that.

And Joel was going to find Aunamee. Whatever it took.

Turning a corner, he spotted someone, and ducked back around, crouching low to listen. If he could figure out who it was...

Taking a page from Guy's book, eventually he called out - keeping his voice low. "I'm not interested in killin'. I'll defend myself if I have to, but I'm not here to kill anybody."

Except Aunamee.

Joel sighed. This one was worse than Ellie, even.

Okay, maybe she wasn't worse. More like her than made him comfortable, though. "They're not that bad, just got hit with the sprinklers the other day," he said, shifting his backpack back into place. "I can still use a crowbar good enough."

He completely ignored her quip about Ellie being revived. That wasn't the way the world worked, in his experience. No one got second chances.

"I'm not saying its bad, I'm saying if the guy we are gonna go kill spots it he's gonna make it WORSE. That's a foreseeable weakness, and knowing what he's done, he'll look for any way to capitalize on that to get away. Wouldn't you?"

She knew she would. "I have a kit. It can at least take care of something like that so its less shitty."

Mindy didn't expect him to believe her about Ellie, but he's learn soon enough the lengths the Capitol went for their entertainment.

Joel sighed. She was right, of course - he was being reckless in his need to get Aunamee right now. He didn't care too much about his own life at this point, but at the very least, he could try to stay alive long enough to do this one last thing.

"They just need clean bandages," he said, crouching down to let her inspect his hands. "They're not infected or anything, I have a first aid kit, too."

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Oh, he could feel himself just wanting to dissolve into nothing like he had been wanting for days, could hardly convince himself to breathe because it was a simple thing asked of him, and it'd be a quick thing. He could feel his stomach doing backflips, and it was a rare thing. If he wasn't so sure he disliked the man like it was the most natural thing in the world, he might just quip about being in love. The fella was built enough. But no. And who ever thought Hawkeye was absolutely useless, well-- well, damn them. Because he wasn't just exhausted, he was also very tired. And he still moved, still worked. Last he figured, he was also still in his right mind, whether that ever classified as sane was no worry of his. He'd seen Joel already. Maybe Joel had seen him- the thought making him want to turn away before the mission even starts. He had slept once, and that was all he bothered to remember about how much time had passed, his only gauge seeing as his bruises felt as fresh and numb as when they'd been given. Hawkeye admitted to himself then that he was a sissy, was beyond delicate and unfit for the abuse. He stepped forward and didn't even wave hello.

Saying how do you do seemed stupid even to him, so he stands taller despite wanting to lean and asks, "Would you recognize Ellie's handwriting?" Which he supposes is out of the blue, and he gets that saying a dead girl's name isn't right, but what part of this was? A yes or no question, and a hopeful one at that. What more could he give? He was as powerless here as the rest of them and it wasn't his fault if nobody understood. However, far from being callous and ill-intended, the question fell from his mouth with a respected weight. Hawkeye figured outright sympathy wasn't something Joel wanted from him.

Her handwriting. Joel's fists clenched and he shook his head. Part of him still wanted nothing more than to beat Hawkeye to death - just hit him until he was crumpled on the floor in a heap. But he hadn't killed Ellie. Even in his current state, Joel wasn't stupid. He'd seen enough wounds to know she wouldn't have survived hers, no matter what anyone did.

But her handwriting. He almost laughed - maybe would've, if he could've produced the sound at all. But it was beyond him at this point.

"We walked halfway across the fuckin' country, took us almost a year, but I never saw her handwriting," he admitted finally, his voice lower and more broken than ever.

Don hadn't exactly been looking for anyone. In fact, He'd been quietly making his way up the stairs when he heard the sobbing. Quickly steeling himself for a feint or trap, he quietly made his way towards the source.

And found himself looking at a man he hadn't seen before. Very quietly, he found himself inching closer, his hand ready to get to his weapon, just in case the encounter turned hostile after all.

"Yeah, well, I haven't used mine yet. I was lucky enough to have a doc look at me with her own med kit for my own fight. So mine is still nice and clean."

She was already getting out the iodine. "She spoke a lot about you, you know. It made me pretty curious what you'd be like. The way you sounded, reminded me of my old trainer."

Bert hadn't really thought of that, honestly.

"I... don't know. But if you're looking for a fast trip back to the Capitol, I would be happy to help. Whatever is needed to stop this, I cannot stand to see a grown man like this."

He looked and sounded entirely sincere about that, both the offer to take Joel's life and that he couldn't stand to watch him cry.

A sound - of some kind - snapped him out of his reverie, and for a moment, Joel's brain couldn't quite line up with what he was seeing. Like Kankri before, his first instinct was to jump back and shout, 'what the actual hell is that?'

However, he did understand that some people might take offense to that tactic, and he managed to keep his reaction down to a start, and an automatic reach for his crowbar as he stood up. A defensive position, however - not offensive. A stance that said I'll hit you if you come at me, but only then.

"The hell are you?" he asked - okay, only marginally more polite than what are you, but still.

Part of Joel wondered what the hell is it with kids and wanting to talk. Or maybe it was just the kind of friends Ellie tended to make when she wasn't being forced into the company of grouchy old smugglers.

God, just thinking about her brought all the images back to his mind, of her gasping on the floor, clutching at him in desperation. Please, not again.

He shook his head, swallowed hard, and slowly unwrapped his blistered hands.

"Sounds like she talked about me to a few people," he offered. "What kinda trainer was this, now?" Let Mindy talk about herself. That would be a lot easier.

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and when he dreams; open

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Vague enough time frame I have no idea.

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/waves hands vaguely

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