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

[sithcretapprentice]

It was clear to him by the man's reaction that he had never met a Force user before. His reaction would have been humorous, if Starkiller could focus on anything but the pounding in his head. It was becoming apparent that the head injury he had sustained in the beginning of the arena was going to hinder him more than he expected. The longer her held onto the man, the more his head spun.

He would have to take care of him quickly, it seemed. Starkiller hadn't been looking for a battle, but he'd found one and he wouldn't hesitate to off Gannicus if he really had to.

"It's the reason you should have ran when you had the chance," he snarled.

He drew on Sith lightning, holding his free hand palm out. Electricity crackled in it, and he was just about to sling it at Gannicus when he lost control of it and he felt the crackle of electricity flow up his arm. With his focus lost, he let Gannicus drop to the ground, the effort to conjure the lightning leaving him unable to hold on any longer, the lightning causing his arm to go numb.

Starkiller knew then that he wouldn't be able to use the Force without killing himself. It was too much energy, and he was already drained enough as it was. It was frustrating, but he knew he would need to run.

"You live, for now."

It was a warning more than anything, not to cross him again in the future. As Gannicus recovered from the fall, Starkiller turned around and stumbled away a fast as he could.

[gladiayyygirl]

Still streaming blood, it was all Gannicus could do to wrestle helplessly with whatever invisible bonds it was that kept him so tightly snared and held aloft. He kicked helpless - a feeble, childish attempt to fight back - and clawed numbly at... something. Nothing? He couldn't tell.

His opponents words have finally proven themselves to have been more profound than Gannicus could have ever predicted - if only he had run when told, then Gannicus would not be held aloft like a ragdoll and covered in his own blood. But running had never been an option - even with death imminent, Gannicus has never run from an enemy. It wasn't in his nature - it wasn't how the arenas worked.

You faced death with a laugh and a salute to the crowd, not a whimper and a helpless gurgle. This wasn't right, Gannicus hated the idea that this man - this god - could kill him like this. Like he was some child, toyed with and openly mocked for things beyond his control.

Terrified, humiliated and raging Gannicus thought it almost a relief when he fell to the floor again to scrabble against the cracked floor and count his blessings. It took him a long few moments to realise that he wasn't dead, and when he finally looked up and around for his opponent he stared incredulously at his retreating back.

"You - Who-?"

A mutter between panting breath and a snarl of pain as he pulled himself to his knees, then, louder, a roar:

"Who are you?"

He needs to know his opponent's name, all the better to swear that he will never be bested by the man again.

[sithcretapprentice]

Starkiller heard the question, loud and clear. It was hard not to, when Gannicus had such a strong, powerful voice and it carried well through the area. It sounded angry, and Starkiller couldn't blame him for it. He would be angry too, if the battle had been tipped so heavily in Gannicus's favor. Beyond that, he would want to know his attacker's name, too.

It was a pride thing, he knew that. But he also knew that Gannicus would probably hold a grudge against him. The next arena, he would be a target. A name would make it easier for him. Starkiller wasn't afraid, though. He felt confident that he would be able to beat him if it came down to it- and he wasn't in the habit of shying away from difficulty. His whole life had been one hardship after another.

So he stopped, just for the briefest of moments, so that he could turn his head back to Gannicus. "Starkiller."

His voice wasn't as loud or angry as Gannicus, but it was still loud enough for Gannicus to hear him. That was all he would say, and he knew if he lingered long enough that Gannicus might decide to attack again and if he did, Starkiller would be out of luck. The sheer effort to call on the Force was would overwhelm him.

So this time, he set off with no intention of stopping, until he was well away from Gannicus.