WEAPONS ROLL RUN

[etcircenses]

"The museum will be closing in half an hour. At that time, something very special will be distributed to the Tributes brave enough to risk their peers at the first floor elevators."

The storm is still raging outside, casting everything on the first floor in a dim light occasionally shattered by flashes of lightning. The thunder rolling in the background seems to set the tone, although some may find it a welcome distraction from silence.

Half an hour passes. Five minutes before it's done, the elevators cease functioning, leaving Tributes to use the stairwells.

Each elevator door opens to reveal a handful of weapons: firecrackers, revolvers, grenades. There are no threats to the Tributes who try to retrieve them - none but their fellow competitors.

[OOC note: party-style post. Everyone tag away.]

Comments

[dragoon_pride]

It was tempting. So tempting to give in to that darkness, that murderous voice that always whispered in the back of his mind.

But no. Not this time. In his right mind, Kain took a similar view. He did anything he had to, in order to survive. Ultimately, if he thought it might serve an important cause, then he would go as far as killing to see it through. So, there was a tense moment where he considered just charging at him and taking him down, however self-destructive that might end up being.

Instead, he moved aside. He was fighting a terribly difficult mental battle over this, though.

"I can't promise it will end the same the next time we meet."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt climbed to his feet, eyes and gun never wavering from the man's chest.

"No," he replied flatly. "Neither can I."

But this wasn't then.

He moved past man, glancing out of the corner of his eye for a clear path, and then took it. The gun finally dropping as he dodged around another tribute and disappeared.

[dragoon_pride]

So it would be this time. It was an agreement that Kain could live with, for now. The part of him still longing to fight would more than welcome the challenge that the other man might pose. That would be another day.

He made his way to the pile, hand closing on one of the grenades, picking it up and then shoving his way out of the area.