thearena | (no subject)

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WHO | Donatello and OPEN
WHAT | Donatello is looking for food and shelter. And, he is definitely looking for certain people. Of course, chances are he will stumble upon everyone else but the people he is looking for, am I right?
WHEN | Evening of the Cornucopia
WHERE | Everywheeeere
WARNINGS / NOTES | Nothing for now!

It wasn't going away. No matter what he tried, that wrong feeling Donatello had felt the moment he entered the Arena wasn't leaving. It had lessened when he found Lottie, which made him realize that, yes, there were others he needed to look for.

Had the Capitol figured out his and Eliot's strategy? Might they suddenly start targeting him, or Eliot? Or worse, Momoko and Lottie, to try and warn them against helping the more defenseless Tributes? Maybe even other Tributes he had befriended, such as Tony, Shepard, Ariadne, or... or even Max?

Leonardo had mentioned feeling such a dread feeling that both he and the Ancient One had felt at different times when everyone back home had been threatened by Karai. Was this the same thing?

If it was...it meant he had to concentrate. He had to find his friends and allies. He had to gather them together somewhere safe, and the sooner, the better. And so he was off, looking for those people. Tony, Eliot. Momoko. Perhaps also find the woman he had befriended at the Halloween party, the one from New York.

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Dean just kept running. That feeling in his gut, that he knew he would have to kill people in cold blood in order to make it out of this arena alive, or at least to avoid getting killed for the first few nights. He'd continue running until he knew he was far enough away from people that nothing could get him, and he could take shelter.

Instead of running away from people, he actually ended up running towards, or more, into one. Running and only looking behind him, he ran right into Donatello, which caused the hunter to fall flat on his ass.

"Who the hel... Oh hey! Don!" He was glad to see someone who he thought he might be able to trust, looking up at the turtle. "Dude. This place. Is crazy."

If it made Dean feel any better, Donatello also fell right on his shell as well. He quickly sat up to see Dean, and his tension eased a little as he quickly got back up.

"Dean. That's...putting it mildly." Don offered a hand for Dean to get up. "Are you ok?"

Taking Don's hand, he stood up and brushed off his pants, "Yeah. I'm fine. Been hit harder, trust me."

Looking around, he sighed, "This is not going to be fun. I dont want to kill anyone, Don. I don't even know if I can bring myself to do it."

"I understand that." Don looked down. "It goes against everything I was ever taught. But..."

He's quiet at this, thinking about Alex from the previous Arena. Really, about the previous Arena in general. He would honestly be surprised if Dean hadn't heard about how and why Donatello was a favorite in the Capitol. It certainly wasn't just because of his unusual looks and generally gentle personality towards potential Sponsors.

He was a contender. And he killed. And he didn't need to be forced to do it. On the other hand, Donatello had a mission, which is why he had done those things.

How to explain it to Dean in a way that wasn't blatantly obvious and wouldn't put them both in danger?

"Well..." Don looked up. "...You ever, uh, read George Orwell?"

Edited 2012-11-13 03:04 (UTC)

Shakes his head, "Never read a book in my life that wasn't something about monsters, dude. Tell about this Orwell you've read. Seems like it relates to this?" Gesturing to the arena, still not at all sure what Don was talking about.

This was not a place he wanted to be. Dean was ... against killing, though he knew, if he had to, and had a good enough reason, like protecting Anna for example, he would.

"Well." There was a pause. "There's this book called Nineteen Eighty-Four that he wrote. And--"

Be careful. Be subtle. But give him hints. While being somehow truthful and not putting him in danger. Somehow.

"--the story was about...an English patriot named O'Brien. He worked for the rulers of Oceania and...very dutifully followed the law, and the ruler, who was named Big Brother. Because that's what people were supposed to do. One day he learned that there were two...rebels trying to overthrow the ruler of Oceania, so he and the police went after them. The rebels were named Winston and Julia."

This is insane. I'm actually making Big Brother the good guy.

"So finally O'Brien and the police catch them both, but...he's still a very merciful guy. He doesn't want to kill Julia or Winston, he wants to save them by...showing how pointless their defiance was. Obviously they refused at first because they were just too proud to see the error of their ways, but, um, eventually, O'Brien manages to convince them that their rebellion is hypocritical because, when faced with their fears, they instead betray each other. Once they do that, they realize they are defeated, and O'Brien manages to save them and re-educate them with the truth. Eventually they regain their loyalty to Big Brother, and everyone lives happily ever after."

In other words: If you don't cooperate willingly, they will force you to, while breaking your spirit.

Edited 2012-11-13 03:49 (UTC)

There wasn't any dread in Riddick's brain. There was frustration, and annoyance, and anger. But dread? He'd faced a lot worse than random people trying to kill him. These guys didn't even have guns. Just normal, every-day people.

So he prowled around the ruins for most of the day and evening after the Cornucopia-- scorning the remains and the people trying to hoard them-- and finally came wandering out to investigate the forest well after sundown. That there happened to be that same walking turtle guy heading his way at the same time.

"So where're you goin'?" he asked without preamble.

Oh, geez. Not this guy again. Not even ten seconds in and Don gets the feeling this guy isn't exactly nice.

"Looking for something," he responded as evenly as possible, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt up in his perch. "Why do you ask?"

Good guess, there, Don. Still, Riddick might not be nice, but he was also not particularly interested in causing any damage. He hitched one shoulder, looking unconcerned as he gazed up at Don. The goggles were off his eyes, perched on top of his head, so his bland expression was completed with the reflective eyeshine in the dark.

"Because I'm curious," he answered. "And because I wanted to know if you actually could talk. Giant talkin' turtle. Kinda crazy, right?"

While Don was still on guard, he wasn't going to attack. Strange eyes there, though.

"Not in these parts." Don looked around. "There's actually a lot of people from a lot of different worlds here."

"Seen different worlds. Still never seen a giant, talking turtle before." He'd seen things that were probably weirder looking, but not as weird as a common Earth animal that was man-sized and sentient, sorry, Don. He tilted his head to one side, and asked, "You some kinda alien, then? From a world that's all animal-people, or somethin'?" It seemed pretty far-fetched, really, given the variety of aliens Riddick had seen.

"Actually...I'm just a regular turtle from Earth. Well, was. Got mutated."

Wait...why was he telling this guy this stuff?

Mutated. Seriously? Riddick's brows went up again. He'd heard of mutations, sure, but they were things like extra thumbs or disgusting skin conditions, usually brought on by radiation or something, not sentient wildlife.

Despite the situation they were in, despite that he was talking to somebody sitting a tree, he had to ask: "How th'fuck'd that happen?"

"Er...well..." Way to be blunt, Riddick. "Radiated alien waste, basically."

"Huh." Riddick was a bit taken aback by that answer, but hey, he'd take it. "Guess the only surprise is it didn't kill you. Mutations that big... usually pretty deadly, where I'm from." Nor were they ever beneficial.

"We never really figured out why or how, but the mutations were generally not fatal with the waste. When animals were exposed to it, it caused them to mutate into more intelligent creatures."

Yes, a conversation about mutations in the middle of a bloodbath. This was...normal. Probably.

Hey, it worked for Riddick, really. He tended to not take things like bloodbaths seriously. Besides, he had no intention of spilling any of that blood, himself, so why not have a chat? "Must be special radiation or somethin'. How long you been like that?"

"Since I was a kid. A baby, actually."

At this, Don looked up, almost looking around.

"...Am I the only one you've seen around here?"

Edited 2012-12-20 01:01 (UTC)

"Just the only on I seen twice." Riddick didn't really expand on that, since he didn't see any reason to. This guy didn't seem like a newcomer, to him, not the way he'd reacted at the opening, nor how he'd set himself up in a good spot immediately.

So he fished a little. "So what do we do in here? Just wander around until we wind up killin' each other?"

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