live fast die young bad fugitivi do it well

[gladiayyygirl]

Who: Nasir & Gannicus & open to all!
What: See the prompts below. Basically, a couple of ex-slaves have fun in the fog, hunt like a pack of thugs and enjoy themselves. If you fancy a scuffle then you've come to the right party.
When: Throughout week 2 (and beyond?)
Where: All over the place! They aren't staying still, that's for sure.
Notes: Warnings for violence (!) and awful language. Will update if need be.

A. closed to Nasir & Gannicus only ( in which heat vision is a thing and nobody cares much for acid spray )

The Cornucopia had been... disappointing. The lead pipe that he had hefted for the first few days was far from satisfactory; the swing of it was wrong and he missed the impaling point of his swords. A blunt object was all well and good but Gannicus had a fondness for the familiar weight of a gladii in each hand.

And then the knife had arrived.

"The city of bread and they feed us fucking crumbs!" He laughed as he swung the short knife with an experimental air, slicing and cutting down imaginary Tributes as he paced the flat roof of a garage. This was their home for the night: exposed, but elevated and distant. A lead pipe in his lead hand and a knife in his off hand - it was unbalanced and crude (much like many men Gannicus had known over the years) and it would have to do.

Unsatisfied but resigned, he shot a curious look at Nasir over his shoulder.

"Tell me the gods have blessed you with better offering?"

B. Nasir & OPEN ( in which Nasir's hair remains immaculate no matter how many rude bitches get up in his business )

Nasir knew it was wiser to stay with Gannicus, but at the same time they could cover more ground and find more resources if they were apart for the time. But that wasn't the true reason he was walking through the fog on his own, trusting on his heat vision goggles to show him any nearby tributes. He was searching for someone from home.

If Gannicus was here, then why not Agron? Maybe even his brother. The Capitol had taken them after all. Why waste a former gladiator?

Nasir kept his turning his gaze around him, raising the goggles every now and then so he didn't become disoriented in a world of red, orange, and blue. He listened too. If he didn't find Agron, then he would find another Tribute to take their life and what supplies they had.

He was going to survive this arena.

C. Gannicus & OPEN ( in which Gannicus misses his audience, damn it. )

Gannicus was unhappy. This arena business was entirely wrong.

Where were the crowds? Where was that familiar, comforting roar - where was the pulsing, beastly universal scream for blood? He missed the way it filled his head, rising to match his pulse, blocking out all other worries and fears and replacing them with a primal urge to kill. It was simpler that way. Easier.

He could imagine it if he really tried - but if he really tried, then he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. And that, Gannicus knew, would be a fatal error.

The heat vision goggles were going to take some getting used to - they were heavy and weighed his head down more than he liked, but the chance to see the world in a vivid new way was far too useful to pass up. Now, he hunted the bright red shapes in the mist - distant, fleeting flashes of heat and life that darted in and out of houses and between trees as Gannicus silently skirted his way about the town. The other Tributes were out here, somewhere. The red spectres that moved through the black mist of his heat vision goggles would show him the way.

Gannicus was still unhappy, but at least he had a plan: keep moving, keep hunting - light and quick, fast and small. Remember the noise of the crowd. Give everyone a glorious death.

D. Nasir & Gannicus & OPEN ( in which god knows what happens )

Tag us with your own scenario! Nasir and Gannicus will be out roaming the arena together during the day and by night they are camping out in various different roof tops and hidey holes. Feel free to run in to them!

Comments

[assassinat]

She doesn't have much to her other than a thick stick, but the way her shoulders hunch down indicate she knows how to stand her ground. If there was any suggestion to easy prey before, she dismisses it by giving into instinct. It likely isn't a good idea to take on someone she has yet to research any, but the way he wears his hair reminds her of another from her world.

One who made it here and one she sparred with before the Arena opened up.

With that in mind, she assesses his body language in the best way she can. Two weapons, the pipe of more interest than the knife. Cuts don't hurt her like brain damage can. She'll have to be ready to counter it though she suspects her plank won't stand up against it easily.

"Come here often?"

[gladiayyygirl]

The woman ahead readies her stance as she prepares to hold her ground - a warrior, then. Someone deserving of a fine death, finer than can be afforded by the mauling, savage dogs that roamed the arena. Gannicus continues to circle, as much intrigued as anything, and closes the distance in his slow, wide arc with each step.

"More often than not. I have called many arena my home," He calls back casually through the veil of fog between them. He's close enough now to make out her hair, her features - fine, probably deadly. Gannicus grins as he briefly spreads his arms wide, both mocking and inviting. "Panem provide but one more."

[assassinat]

More than one arena, but he speaks of this as it's his first one given to him by Panem. She can only name a handful of cultures that had gladiator arenas within them, but she keeps that secret to herself. No need to offend someone otherworldly if his customs didn't fit with what she's come to know.

She'll just have to keep her distance. His arms will be where the brunt of his attacks will come from, but if he's fought in arenas before it's likely he can use every part of his body.

If she's fortunate, he'll think less of her.

No, that's luck she can't bank on. The air of confidence between the two causes enough sparks to let her know that he knows.

"No rules then?"

[gladiayyygirl]

Rules. Even the arena of Capua had rules, bound up as they were in concepts of glory and honour that were dictated by the Romans who had stolen them in to slavery in the first place. Respect the missio, make every death a glorious one.

Here, there seemed to be no such things. But that was fine by Gannicus - he could play by his own rules, respecting the traditions of his own culture, and still fight as well as anyone else. He was confident enough of that.

By way of reply, he shook his head and pulled himself back in to a fighting position. Tight, low, knife and lead pipe upraised, as he took his last few steps.

"None are needed."

Time to give the crowds something to cheer for. Gannicus was happy to make the first move as he feinted left, then surged forward with a fast, heavy sweep of the lead pipe to catch at her knees.

[assassinat]

The first strike doesn't take her by surprise, having anticipated the likelihood of it well in advance before his body makes the movements as she leaps back. Her own may be sluggish, worn down by something (poison, she assumes), but so long as she had her wits about her, there was nothing to fear.

As long as she could stay two steps ahead of her opponent, she's in good shape. Any less and the hits may be a bit too close for her liking.

"Every man needs rules." She quips rather playfully. It's true, isn't it? If they don't hold themselves to some kind of standards here, then they are minions more than man. "Is what defines a person, makes them less animal and more man."

Her feet are antsy, Natasha fitting the role of jumping spider more than black widow at this very moment as she waits for him to try again.

[gladiayyygirl]

Natasha leaps back, away from his sweep, but Gannicus doesn't mind. It's a test - gauge her reactions, see how quickly she responds, and in what way. Being on the offensive suits Gannicus well; there's no point in wasting time waiting for his opponents to take the initiative themselves. Attack fast, conduct your brawl how you want it to go. A drawn out, tactical fight made for boring entertainment, as far as Gannicus was concerned.

"Many a time the man must become as animal, if he is to survive," Gannicus grins in reply as he uses the momentum of the sweep to carry him around and bring his knife to bear in a similarly wide scything, cutting sweep aimed at her face. Big movement, easily predictable - he's still testing the waters, so to speak.