thearena | ARENA 10-Placid Hollow

ARENA 10-Placid Hollow

The Tributes are taken early in the morning, most of their support teams seeming in good cheer as they dress them in warm clothes, getting them to their tubes. There is obvious comfort in the familiar for the prep teams, and they chatter with, or in some cases, over the heads of their Tributes as they get them ready and load them up.

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18…

If the Tributes could see the area they are passed up into, they would see a deeply overgrown, dilapidated town green, with a large bandstand rotting away in the middle. The spoils of the cornucopia are not gathered in one spot, instead scattered throughout the thigh high grass and weeds around the town green.

Around the edge of the green, the old business stand a silent sentry, looming out of the fog as it thins and winds into them, providing much desired cover.

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6…

But the Tributes cannot see the ground around them. The fog, thicker even than it will be in the rest of the arena, makes the world small around them. The sound of the count down echoes strangely, the tributes seeming too close as the fog brings sounds of their breath, their coughing, the snap of twigs under their feet right to ears of the other Tributes. But with the fog bringing visibility down to only a few feet, it's hard to tell what is a true danger, and what is only the fog playing tricks on them,.

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The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.

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Normally Nasir would have easily dodged the pack but the fog obscured his vision and his opponent moved faster than he would have expected. The pack hit his knees and they buckled. He fell back with a grunt, bringing up his weapon to ready it in case the man tried to get on top of him to pummel him further into the ground.

Nasir attempted to get back onto his feet and quickly. Speed was never an issue for him but he'd seldom been knocked to the ground during a fight.

Fuck the gods, if Agron were here he would kill him for this but Nasir couldn't afford a thought about the lover he'd been parted from.

When weaponless Gannicus has always resorted to this - get the opponent close, get the opponent down, get him between your hands and your fists exactly where you need him. Still low on the floor Gannicus abandons the pack at the sound of the opponent hitting the ground and springs forward to throw himself bodily on top of him regardless of the upraised weapon in the other man's hands. A crazy move, bringing himself within distance of the weapon when the other man could still so easily swing it, but it had to be done.

His own hands fly out in an effort to grab whatever he can to stop the opponent from using the plank against him - one hand goes for the right wrist, the other for the plank itself. There was no arena crowd to spur Gannicus on and, fleetingly, he misses the roar of anticipation and the thunderous screams. Instead, it was more like the battlefield - two desperate men doing desperate things in order to survive long enough to fight again.

Nasir would have sworn if he weren't busy struggling against his opponent. He was outmatched in this. There were disadvantages to his height and slighter build-- that was why he preferred the spear but he had no other option but to grapple with the other man.

But he was trying to wrest Nasir's weapon from him. So Nasir thrust it up towards him, hoping that the nails would sink into his flesh. At the same time he kept his grip on it, desperately hoping he wouldn't lose his hold while his other arm twisted so he could grab the man's hand and pry it off him.

The weapon is thrust further in to his grip but at the cost of pain - the nails bite through layers of fabric to puncture the flesh of his shoulder and Gannicus hisses through the pain. He takes it because it's worth it - he works his grip tighter on both the wrist and the wood in each hands and forcefully wrenches the two apart with a grunt of effort. The nails tear free from his flesh, taking with it blood and strands of fabric. It's an unfamiliar weight in his hand - nowhere near as light or as balanced as a sword - but he neatly reverses his grip on the plank so it was now his to swing as he liked.

Nasir lost his only weapon and now it was in the hands of someone determined to kill him. Desperation flooded his system, coupled with another surge of adrenaline and Nasir acted immediately. He kicked at the man and, with a surprising strength, wrested his hand away from his opponent's grip. He reached up to claw at his eyes while his other hand grabbed for the plank, determined to push it back as far as he could so the nails wouldn't tear him apart.

As he acted, he hissed sharply. He was not going to die today. He'd made a promise.

He had meant to bring the plank down to smash his opponent across the face, but the fingers slashing at his eyes put paid to that. The upraised arm brandishing the weapon faltered and changed course; rather than bring the wooden board and nails down on to the enemy's head, he swiped across instead in an effort to slap away the hand going for his eyes and knock free the other.

The kick caught him in the same moment and Gannicus grunted with pain at the impact. He flared with anger; incapable of thinking beyond causing as much pain to his opponent the other hand, now free, formed a fist. Copying the man's tactics and modifying it to suit his own purpose, he lifted his balled fist with the intention to bring it down in a hard smash on the man's windpipe.

Nasir was lucky that the edge of what used to be his weapon hit his hand instead of the nails driven into it. It knocked his nails away from his enemy's face. His other hand came free of the plank and he raised it just in time to catch the man's hand before it crushed his throat.

He barely stopped it in time and struggled to keep it away, grunting, focusing all his strength on the fist and not the man's face. If only he had.

Nasir kicked again, desperately, at any place he could get to. He needed to get free and roll out from under him. He'd sacrifice his weapon but he'd have his life.

He was still in that blood red zone of rage - annoyance that the enemy had pushed him out of his flow, frustration that the enemy had gotten so close to getting his fingers hooked in his eyes. Nothing about this arena was right and all Gannicus knew was that he had to kill this man at all cost.

Nasir could have been anyone. To Gannicus, Nasir was everyone. Everyone who had ever been sent up before him in an attempt to cut him down.

Gannicus could feel the desperation in the man beneath him but Gannicus wasn't going to move. He took the kicks, ignoring the pain, and gritting his teeth with a snarl. If anything he anchored himself a little firmer before bringing the plank back in the opposite sweep - the equivalent of a backhand, once again aimed at his enemy's face.

With one hand holding Gannicus's fist and the other reaching up to tear at his face again, Nasir didn't have the time or the strength to block the blow. The plank hit him hard in the face, knocking it to the side with a hard jerk that rattled him. He tasted blood in his mouth.

With a loud hiss, he turned back to his enemy and his eyes finally landed on the face he was about to rake his nails across.

Nasir froze but his hand remained tight on the man's hand. "Gannicus!"

Had he been hit too hard on the head? Was he imagining this or was Gannicus actually--

When had he arrived? Why hadn't Nasir seen him before? And was the rebel general about to bash Nasir's brain in before he could stop him?

It took Gannicus a moment to register what was happening - his head was full of move and counter-move, and he felt more attuned to the enemy's movements than his words. He felt the man tense and falter beneath him and finally Gannicus realised what had been said. Furious and with his hair plastered damply half across his face, he stared in confusion at the face that suddenly seemed to jump in to clarity through the red haze of aggression.

"Nasir? Nasir, you fuck --" Bewildered - and all the more angry for it - Gannicus dropped his free hand and balled it in to Nasir's overcoat, shaking him once, sharply, before letting go again with a push. Residual rage coursed its way through his veins as he stared at the man beneath him incredulously. "I would have sent you to fucking afterlife!"

"You think thought brings joy?" Nasir rubbed his jaw, where he'd been struck.

Nasir was panting from the exertion and, now that the danger was gone, he felt the full force of the pain in his cheek. Once Gannicus had pulled away he would have to spit out the blood welling in his mouth. He cautiously felt his teeth with his tongue. One was loose but remained lodged in his gums.

Staring at Gannicus, Nasir felt several conflicting emotions. There was relief that he was not about to be killed and that, now that Gannicus was here, they could fight together. However, Nasir realized that while his short term chance at survival had just increased, the long term had decreased dramatically. There was no way, as had just been proved, that he could defeat Gannicus. But there was another thought. If Gannicus was here without Nasir's knowing then perhaps Agron was as well.

"When did you come here?"

"I do not fucking know!" Gannicus hissed incredulously, throwing his hand up as if Nasir had dared to wonder how long a piece of string was out loud. With the noise of other opponents - actual enemies, not brothers lost and reunited over thousands of years - still surrounding them in the fog, Gannicus tried to keep his voice low as he continued.

"Day and night are as one in this fucking land..." He shoved Nasir's weapon back in to Nasir's hands and pushed up and away in the same movement, picking himself up from the damp ground and allowing Nasir enough space to roll away unhindered.

"How did you come by your weapon?"

Nasir took hold off his weapon and rose to his feet. He cast about for the bag he had dropped upon being attacked and found it. He raised it in front of Gannicus.

"With this. We will find weapon though you don't fucking need it." Nasir was still a little sore-- literally-- about being hit in the head with his own 2x4.

"If you are here we may find others we know." Though he didn't say who he wanted most to see. "And kill those we don't. We will break words more after spilling blood." Nasir didn't know if he could see the look he gave Gannicus through the fog but it held an air of warning. Not Nasir's blood.

Of course - this had been for the bag of supplies. Gannicus picked up his own from where it lay in the grass, abandoned for rolling around in the damp with Nasir, and slung it over his back with a mirthless rumble of laughter. The needling pinpricks where the nails had sunk in to his flesh still flared with pain but Gannicus has had a thousand times worse - they were annoyance to be ignored and forgotten.

"You throw order as boldly as your spear," Gannicus remarked in a low, dry tone, stepping up as he did so through the wet grass to stand at Nasir's side and squint out in to the thick fog. He didn't sound particularly bothered to be at the receiving end of Nasir's directions - he agreed for the main part, and didn't want to leave the Cornucopia until he found something to use as a weapon of his own - regardless of Nasir's personal opinion.

"But I would stay awhile before search commences --" He added, voice dropping to barely a whisper as he listened hard at the noises beyond the fog. "-- And see hand properly furnished with weapon fit to purpose."

Nasir hesitated. He wanted to search for Agron but he would not part from Gannicus. He did not know if he would find him again, nor if he would survive to search.

"Order is not mine to give," Nasir said, backing down. "We will find weapon for hand. Would you have me keep eye alert for enemies while you keep gaze to ground in search?" Nasir was accustomed to keeping watch but he did not know if his eyes or keener or Gannicus would like the suggestion.

Gannicus threw a quick, searching look at Nasir as he backed down - Gannicus honestly did not care, especially when the line of thought had been a good one anyway. He slapped a fist on Nasir's shoulder with a smirk. "Yet much like spear, order strikes mark. We will search in time."

Just only when Gannicus has found something fun to use.

"Turning eye to this fucking weather will serve no purpose." Gannicus set out, body held low and ready should they stumble across any errant enemies. "Use ear instead, and listen for hasty tread and hastier tongue."

"Then I will set to task. Place foot in direction of own choosing. It is your weapon we seek." And Nasir had more faith in Gannicus's capability to lead. It helped that he wasn't drunk this time. If he were, Nasir might have chosen differently.

Nasir turned his head in the direction of the sounds he heard. No one was nearby-- yet. But that could soon change. Yet the noises they had made during their fight didn't seem to have attracted attention, drowned as they were by other cries.

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ARENA 10-Placid Hollow

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gannicus swear count starts here: #1 and #2

Good luck keeping track

my own personal challenge! #3 and #4

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#5

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