Kíli } son of Dís, daughter of Thrain (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
emptytrousers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-03-02 01:27 pm
emptytrousers) wrote in thearena2014-03-02 01:27 pm
Entry tags:
At night I can't sleep when I try;
Who| Kili and Mindy
What| IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWWWWWWWN aka Kili can't hide anymore and they both know one of them has to die
Where| Fifth floor
When| Week 7, forward-dated to after the explosion on Monday
Warnings/Notes | Character death, descriptions of starvation; will update if needed.
Empty. That was the word Kili had been searching for the past hour or day or however long it had been since he settled down back in the hovel of dinosaur bones he had declared home since that blinding flash of light and the collapse of the third floor. His skin smoldered with what felt like hundreds of tiny rivers of fire, but no long could he bring himself to care. After all, when the pains of hunger left him, so did any desire to drink from the strange devices called water fountains or fight. The bones that surrounded him had become a place he could sit and listen as friend after friend died, their name announced too loud in a strange metallic voice. Ellie, Hawkeye, R. They had all been killed and somehow he had survived, perhaps by sheer luck, but he can no longer ignore the heavy silence that weighed him down more and more every day as he no longer cared about the bits of dusty leather from his boots that lost their taste around the same time the pain in his stomach did.
If he hated the silence, then he should have been grateful for the explosion, for the brilliant flash of fire and smoke that woke him from the stupor that had taken hold not long after he stopped eating. Trying to stand, however, proved more trying than he ever expected, the armor too heavy on his thinned arms. Smoke clouded the hall before he could wrench the chain mail off and the alarms overhead could never give enough warning for the hideous rain that followed. Within the first few seconds, he could no longer stand the burning, not for the safety of his bone nest, not for his sword with armor and he scurried across the floor with little more than the pajamas he originally arrived in, even the smallest bit of sprinting winding him.
The steel carriage was little better, but it was at least free of stinging rain and the smoke that made every breath stick in his throat. Water. He needed water. He needed food. He needed a million things that he could never get and for the first time in what felt like weeks, he wanted something, anything, to fill the void that had swallowed up his insides and stretched him so thin he didn't know if he could still cast a shadow.
As soon as he exited on the first floor, he thought he heard footsteps, someone moving in the darkness around him and before he could breathe, he nocked an arrow to his bow and swallowed down Hawkeye's words. He had to kill or be killed, that was the game, and his legs could only hold him up for a little longer; he was dying, he knew, in the back of his mind, even if he refused to think about it.
And then he turned to face the footsteps, his chest heaving with the pain of the burns freezing his pajamas to his skin and the sheer exhaustion that ate into his bones.
What| IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWWWWWWWN aka Kili can't hide anymore and they both know one of them has to die
Where| Fifth floor
When| Week 7, forward-dated to after the explosion on Monday
Warnings/Notes | Character death, descriptions of starvation; will update if needed.
Empty. That was the word Kili had been searching for the past hour or day or however long it had been since he settled down back in the hovel of dinosaur bones he had declared home since that blinding flash of light and the collapse of the third floor. His skin smoldered with what felt like hundreds of tiny rivers of fire, but no long could he bring himself to care. After all, when the pains of hunger left him, so did any desire to drink from the strange devices called water fountains or fight. The bones that surrounded him had become a place he could sit and listen as friend after friend died, their name announced too loud in a strange metallic voice. Ellie, Hawkeye, R. They had all been killed and somehow he had survived, perhaps by sheer luck, but he can no longer ignore the heavy silence that weighed him down more and more every day as he no longer cared about the bits of dusty leather from his boots that lost their taste around the same time the pain in his stomach did.
If he hated the silence, then he should have been grateful for the explosion, for the brilliant flash of fire and smoke that woke him from the stupor that had taken hold not long after he stopped eating. Trying to stand, however, proved more trying than he ever expected, the armor too heavy on his thinned arms. Smoke clouded the hall before he could wrench the chain mail off and the alarms overhead could never give enough warning for the hideous rain that followed. Within the first few seconds, he could no longer stand the burning, not for the safety of his bone nest, not for his sword with armor and he scurried across the floor with little more than the pajamas he originally arrived in, even the smallest bit of sprinting winding him.
The steel carriage was little better, but it was at least free of stinging rain and the smoke that made every breath stick in his throat. Water. He needed water. He needed food. He needed a million things that he could never get and for the first time in what felt like weeks, he wanted something, anything, to fill the void that had swallowed up his insides and stretched him so thin he didn't know if he could still cast a shadow.
As soon as he exited on the first floor, he thought he heard footsteps, someone moving in the darkness around him and before he could breathe, he nocked an arrow to his bow and swallowed down Hawkeye's words. He had to kill or be killed, that was the game, and his legs could only hold him up for a little longer; he was dying, he knew, in the back of his mind, even if he refused to think about it.
And then he turned to face the footsteps, his chest heaving with the pain of the burns freezing his pajamas to his skin and the sheer exhaustion that ate into his bones.