Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.

[hanssome]

Who| Hans and Rat
What| Hans teaches Rat a valuable life lesson by taking everything he worked for and leaving him to die slowly.
Where| District 12 pavilion, toward the finish line.
When| Toward the end with not much time to spare.
Warnings/Notes| Slow, cruel murders and nastiness.

Dire doesn't even begin to describe the circumstances now. Hans had done well, he'd gotten a sword and put some extra time on the clock. Then he'd suffered a little more. He was injured, but not lethally, he was exhausted and dehydrated. He'd collected quite a few of the trinkets, but somehow he'd stumbled into the pavilion without all of them. The idea of turning back physically pains him, he's bone tired and desperate and not ready to die. With how long they've been here, he knows they can't have much time left, even with so many dead he was sure few had been murders.

He lets a sigh hiss through his teeth before fading as best he can into a more subtle sitting place, waiting for someone to finally make an appearance. An idea is forming in his mind, he's simply banking on another tribute with a little more fortune than he had, temporary as it may be.

Comments

[saveswithsong]

Rat had done all he could to count the tones. Keep track of the time. Unless there was another death soon, this was the end. This was his victory. The backpack was full, both with supplies and with the trinkets, the most obvious of which was a nut tied to the strap of the machete in his hand. The hand had small trickles of blood where the first two knuckles of his middle and ring fingers used to be, and his hair hung a mess around his head. At the back of his scalp was a bloody bare spot. Murder was on his eyes, and blood down his front. It didn't appear to be his own. Machetes were a messier weapon than most.

But there it was. The end. His hand not holding his weapon shook with the various poisonings he'd suffered, and exhaustion. He cast his gold grey eyes around. The black coal walls devoured shadows like hungry slum children did scraps of moldy bread. He knew this was the most dangerous part of this whole Arena. Fifteen more minutes. This whole place reeked of trouble. It did ever since he began. But this pavilion stank.

He took long, quick, strides, as steady as he could make it. He kept his head on swivel and his eyes anywhere he could point them. But he couldn't see everywhere at once.

[hanssome]

Everything is falling into place pretty well for Hans. He's pretty sure some people would argue that the fumes are dangerous and probably a little bit mind-numbing. But he feels good, really good. He's calm, collected and pineapple. Wait, what? Focus, Hans. When he sees the figure cross through the pavilion, it's all he can do not to laugh. He really hopes he's not laughing anyway. He's increasingly disorientated from the stench and the dank, but he has a single-minded determination.

It's true, Rat can't look everywhere at once, but Hans has no intention of launching at him like some wild animal. Instead, he'll stalk around him as he makes his approach, looking rather more like a smug house cat tracking something coincidentally like a rat. He'll step into view in time to block Rat from properly nearing the finish, the blood on his own sword more than apparent, but every other aspect of him looking relatively neat sans the odd gash.

"You've done well for yourself." He murmurs, a dangerous smile tugging at his lips.

[saveswithsong]

His eyes were locked on Hans, though his other senses were alert, ready for him to merely be a distraction. He couldn't really sniff out trouble coming from anywhere else but in front of him.

He shrugged. "After a fashion." He didn't feel like it. But he could put a face on to look stronger than he actually was. "I'm afraid I haven't got time for small talk." His fingers shifted a bit on the handle of the machete. He tried not to tense up, but it showed in his shoulders. "I don't think you're the one that's meant to do the congratulating around here." Did this guy honestly think he could stop him? Not here. Not after all of this.

[hanssome]

"Then I'll make this quick." He retorts coolly, giving his sword a flick in his hand despite knowing the blood encasing it is far too dry to shift from it. His eyes flick over the other man, taking the multiple injuries into account as he does. He won't underestimate a man who has made it this far, but he's suffered far less and he intends to use it to his advantage.

"I intend to save the congratulations for myself, actually." He'll step forward menacingly, sword raised slightly so as to make his intentions even clearer. "You made it very far, I'll give you that much." He just barely shrugs before taking a swing at Rat, openly and eagerly vicious with the attack. It should have been expected with his approach, but he moves fast and he has a strong arm.

[saveswithsong]

Circumstances even, Rat wouldn't have had much trouble with this guy, he expected. But his grip wasn't steady and he'd had a long-ass day. All the same, never underestimate a cornered rodent. He raised the machete to parry the first swing and brought his long legs to bear by going for a kick to Hans' gut. He could feel the strength Hans still had when their blades collided. He knew he was in trouble, but he also knew he had a hell of a lot to lose.

[hanssome]

It's true that the odds probably would have been ever more in Rat's favour, but Hans' confidence and ability to take hold of a situation and strangle advantages out of it almost never fails him. Almost. The kick lands and sends him stumbling, but he catches himself before he falls on his ass. Speed will be his best friend in this fight, he wagers. Rat probably can't keep orientated much longer.

So when he launches forward, he's sure to take multiple, rapid swings at the other man. Trying to parry him backward and disorientate him with his relentlessness

[saveswithsong]

Trying to overwhelm him with sheer force was probably the right route for him to go, even he would admit. But that didn't mean he had to let it work. He took a few blows, and allowed him a few steps back. "Go! I've got him distracted!" He shouted at "someone" behind Hans' back. There was no one there, but the distraction was useful. If he fell for it, he'd be greeted with a shove backward and another kick, this time going for the head.

[hanssome]

There's a very brief flash of genuine surprise apparent on Hans' face. An abundantly clear moment of 'oh fuck'. What Rat doesn't see is the wheels turning quickly. Nothing in Rat's manner indicated that there were others hiding, though it's a viable possibility his gut doesn't allow him to move his focus from the fight. For a moment, it seems like he'll peer over his shoulder, only for his expression to change as he braces, allowing himself to move backward only inches.

"Not a chance." He chides. When the kick comes toward him, he'll block it with his sword, allowing Rat's momentum to doom him, even if it takes a toll on his wrists.

[saveswithsong]

Despite the failure, Rat smirks. As he saw the sword come up, he checks the power in the kick, so that the blade only bites a bit into leather and skin. It stings, but when added to the aches and pains of the rest of him, it's a minor thing. This was wasting time. He had to end it.

He used the momentum of his deflected kick to go off to Hans' side, down low. But before he can get the machete up to take a slice out of his side, his freshly-wounded ankle betrayed him. Maybe that had gone deeper than he thought. It's enough to leave him vulnerable as he catches himself on the floor, and he doesn't have the strength anymore for any flips to overcome this. And he's still just too damn close to the wall for his liking.

[hanssome]

Hans isn’t sure if he’s pleased or disappointed when Rat’s kick eases some. It certainly saves his wrists from straining under the pressure and he wasn’t entirely hoping for a gruesome delimbing, but it means this fight is dragged out that little bit longer. He can’t remember how long they have, but he feels the urgent pulse of his heart telling him to end this quickly. Don’t draw it out with theatrics or an intensive demonstration of skill when you can end it in a few moves. He lost his chance to be truly impressive when he failed to collect all of his tokens himself.

Taking a page from Rat’s book, Hans lifts his own leg to aim a powerful kick at the other man’s chest. With him so close to the wall, he sees his chance. The material is solid, but not impenetrable on the surface level. He could kill him easily at this point and at this angle, but he hesitates, his mind whirring fast and reminding him of that time sensitive clock. He doesn’t want to benefit anyone with his hardwork, he wants to end this quickly for himself, but not for Rat. He moves face when he can, taking an unusual plunge at the other man’s gut and aiming to drive his sword into the wall behind him.

[saveswithsong]

He only had time to get an elbow under himself to try to get up before there was a sword in his gut. He cried out in pain, and his knees reflexively curled forward on the floor. His hand released the machete as they reached out to grab hold of the hilt of Hans' sword.

On its way through, the sword tore a hole in Rat's backpack, and out tumbled a few of the tokens. As well as some extras. Either Rat, or the person he'd won the backpack from, had been playing dirty.

[hanssome]

"I told you I'd make it quick." He muses, watching the machete drop and leaning in to make a grab for it. It has a token tied to the end, useful. He also needs to protect himself from someone pulling the same shenanigans.

There's a momentary leery look before he moves to collect the tokens as quickly and carefully as he can. He wants to make it fast, he feels so common crouching down to gather them.

"Looks like you had every intention of being greedy too." He observes with a small smirk, pulling himself up to stand with the tokens in hand. "Regardless, I really ought to be going or I'll be late to the finish line." He gives him a curt nod, turning to walk in the other direction.

After a bajillion years

[saveswithsong]

The pain was excruciating. After as far as he had come, to go out like this was pathetic. He couldn't do anything to stop Hans from taking all of the tokens.

He knew he was a dead man if he pulled the sword out but maybe if he could just get up... but no. The end of the blade was caught in the wood lining some parts of the walls.

Then it hit him. Time was ticking by. At any moment, the arena would be over. And he would still be alive. They'd said anyone remaining alive at the end or committing suicide would remain dead. They wouldn't come back. As much pain as he was in, fear washed over him tenfold. "No! Come back! Wait!" he screamed after Hans.

"Don't do this to me!" Tears poured down his face. There was no calm control, no separation of his heart from the ugliness around him. Only desperation and the primal scream of someone at their wit's end. The thing he raced away from and fought against all of his life had come for him.

"No! Kill me! Please! Someone! Anyone! Kill me!" If anyone were in the area, he was sure they heard him. Why wasn't anyone coming? Why was he doomed to just disappear?

The gongs began to toll, marking off the final seconds. Any will to fight left him. He closed his eyes. All he could do is wait. "I'm sorry, Shion," he whispered.

When the last gong sounded, his body relaxed all at once. The tears stopped, but the marks in the dirt on his face stood as a testament to what had occurred here.