And the death knell tolls once more.

[gardienne]

Who: Eponine and open
Her death thread is closed to R

What: Eponine has gone exploring in one of the houses in town. R is eventually going to eat her. Before that, she's hunting for food and weapons.

Where: In the living room of a house in town.

When: Week 2, at night.

Warnings: R is going to eat her, so warnings galore for that. Otherwise, I suppose, bad language, and any you should like to add yourself.


Eponine had left Orc and Diana for a while. She had been awake most of the past few nights, thinking. Thinking was always somewhat dangerous. She couldn't help it though. She rolled over in the sleeping bag she had been sent and she sobbed for what had happened all that time ago in Paris, and for the murders she had committed in the arena, and yes, for her father too, stabbed to death in her bedroom and hidden in the Capitol. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, couldn't stop replaying it in her mind over and over until she thought she could scream through her pain and her fear.

But no she couldn't, because then Orc and Diana would want to know why she was upset, and the Capitol would soon get wind of it if they did not already know and then she would be in more trouble than ever.

She brushed her fingers over the heavy Capitol cuff that was still fastened tightly to her wrist. She would be in a lot of trouble. Perhaps she deserved execution. Perhaps dying over and over in the arena was enough to even it out?

She struggled out of her sleeping bag: she could not sleep and she didn't want to think any longer. She didn't want to be tempted to tell Orc. She couldn't risk getting in trouble.

So she walked away. She packed up her bits, her torch and her sleeping bag, and her bits of food, and started to walk. Silly tasks to keep her mind busy. That's what she needed. She'd find food and weapons for the three of them to have spare.

She chose the house at random, and went in, checking the rooms for Tributes. It seemed to be empty though. Her next plan was to raid the fridge, to gather as many tins and bits of water or juice together in the bottom of her sleeping bag, just in case she had to run. Then it was weapons. A rusty knife joined the scissors tucked into her waistband, and mouldy beeswax ended up in her sleeping bag.

She moved into the lounge, exploring the unfamiliar looking technology with the aid of her torch. She didn't really know what the gramophone was used for, but she did know that it was sharp and pointy.

She was trying to tug the arm free when she heard a noise, and she turned back to the pitch black of the doorway.

"Who's there? I'm... I have a knife. Do not make me kill you." She tried to sound as determined and as threatening as possible.

Comments

Closed to R

[gardienne]

Eponine had moved back to the kitchen for now. She was hungry and trying to get one of the old cans of peaches open with her rusty knife. Eventually done with only minimal cuts to her fingers, she tucked in, fishing out the peaches with her fingers. No matter if they tasted a bit funny. They filled a gap, and that was all she cared about.

She wasn't particularly paying attention to what was going on around her. She was beyond caring now. What did it matter?

She sat in the pitch black of the kitchen, steadily munching her peaches, lost once more in the thoughts of her father. She didn't even hear him lurch in.

[shambler]

The hunger comes back, like it always does. It's not so much an old friend as someone who won't leave no matter how much R wishes he could slam the door in its face. It pervades every rotting fiber of his being, pulling his arm up in that classic zombie gesture, his mouth working up black drool to make the act of biting and ripping easier.

He follows that sixth sense he's developed since he woke up a corpse, stumbling after an invisible trail pointing Eponine's way. R's boot kicks up against the entry, scuffing across tiles and leaves scattered across the kitchen. He doesn't need to see very well to zero in on that glowing, Living outline.

With a growl, R lunges at her with his good arm outstretched. His other arm, missing at the elbow, waves uselessly like he's grabbing her with the amputated hand.

[gardienne]

Eponine screams when she hears that growl - she recognises it, of course, as R. But he does not sound like he's come for a chat. No - he sounds like he did in the desert. He sounds hungry.

She hits the floor immediately, crouching under the table. She's shaking. She cannot stand it if it happens again - oh God, not again. Perhaps if she stays still and absolutely silent, R will think he's killed her already and leave. If not, she'll beg. She can't die like this again. Not now.

Quickly, silently, she pulls her scissors free from her waistband. If she killed her dad with a letter opener, she can kill a zombie with scissors... right?

[shambler]

The scream only jolts R into a frenzy, the zombie stumbling forward at something that might've almost looked like a drunk's run before he eats pavement. He follows Eponine's voice just as much as he follows her smell, smacking into the table hard enough to jolt it across the floor. His fingers scrabble across the wood.

He groans, drool dripping to splatter against the table, as he registers that Eponine's not where he was grabbing but she must be close by. R staggers around the table in an urgent circle, blocking Eponine from that clear run to the door.

To make it worse, he stops instead of circling around again, his moan turning almost confused. She has a clear shot of his legs and, behind that, the open door he'd come stumbling through.

[gardienne]

She screams again as the table goes flying. Eponine's left crouched on the floor, her arm, injured from the fight with her dad before the arena, pulled right into her chest. She crawls back beneath the vague safety of the wood, listening intently to R's footsteps, trying to place him in the room to judge when might be best to run for it.

But he blocks her, and she waits, watching his calves and his feet. He's just standing. If she rushes at him, and knocks him over, she can escape.

So she does. Putting as much strength as she can into it, she pushes herself from beneath the table, leaping up and forward to try to hit R in the knees. And then she runs as fast as she can without looking back.

[shambler]

It's the fastest R's reacted, bordering on humanly fast instead of his usual slow stumbles and slurring. He inhales that electric Living scent suddenly in his face as he lurches forward, his one good hand grabbing. His fingers brush through her hair and tangle in the thick hoodie of her sweater. It's not quite the same as getting a good fistful of hair but it doesn't matter: he simply reacts. Jerks toward him.

It's one of those timeless zombie things. He's never met a zombie who didn't grab and pull toward the mouth. It's like Corpse 101.

R's mouth gapes open wide as he sinks his teeth into Eponine's shoulder, trying to work his way past the windbreaker and thick woven material of the sweater. An animal whine works its way out of his throat, gurgling and raspy and urgent.

[gardienne]

She screams hard when she feels R's hand on the bristles of her head, and clamping down on her sweatshirt. NO - NO! This cannot - WILL NOT - happen again.

"R. R! It's me - it's Eponine. R, I am telling you, don't eat me. Don't -" She screams again as she's pulled up to him. Oh god, she can smell the rotting flesh. The stench oozes out of his mouth, so strong that she could be sick. But she's too scared to be concentrating on that. She tries her best to jerk away from his mouth, from his clutch, pulling this way and that and twisting and hitting out and kicking.

"R, stop it! We're - we're friends. You can't eat me. Oh God, not again. Please - please don't eat me. R, Stop it. I beg you. Come on - please, Monsieur."

[iphigeneia]

Felicity did not have a knife to guard herself with, but what she lacked in weaponry she made up for in her belief that Eponine would not turn her away. Not now. Not after the pact they'd made together. They were friendly now. They could rely upon each other for help.

That said, she hadn't especially sought out Eponine in the arena. She'd mostly kept to herself, mostly tried to stay away from the other tributes to avoid trouble. She'd bide her time, keep a low profile, then surprise them all when her time came. She was determined not to mess up. It wouldn't be like last time.

But seeing Eponine sneaking into the house gave her another idea. They were friends. It wouldn't hurt to be friendly. Quietly, she'd followed the other girl inside, creeping on her toes until Eponine finally noticed her.

"Don't be ridiculous." Felicity scoffed, appearing in the doorway very purposefully, looking proud as a queen. She had a part to play, now that the two of them would have a scene together. "You'll do nothing of the sort."

[gardienne]

"Will I not, Mademoiselle?" Eponine grinned. She did let go of the gramaphone , though. Truth be told, she was so relieved that she would not have to fight.

She curtseyed low to Felicity - too low for the humility to be truly meant, and then she laughed.

"You follow me , Felicity? You think - 'ah, she knows to live in unfriendly cities', huh ? Well, perhaps yes and maybe no. Have you been hurt?"

She has: her right arm is a mess of bandages made of her bedsheets, and crude stitches from the Avoxes. Her dad had aimed for her face; she had made sure he got her arm.

[shambler]

R doesn't try to stop her from struggling: she flails, he gets popped in the face by an arm, an elbow, and it doesn't matter if Eponine breaks his nose or knocks some teeth out by accident. They'll drool out or he'll eat them eating her. Up close she smells intoxicating with that Life smell everyone like her has. It feels his senses, dulls that part of R that's always cringed in the back of his head when he killed again and again.

He's bigger than she is, even without an arm, and he's just as motivated as she is. Epnonine doesn't want to die, he wants to live (even for a few minutes) by stealing it from her. It's just like back at the airport.

R can't shake free of the hunger that tangles his fingers into her hoodie and drags her closer, his nose crooked from the elbow to the face. He surges forward again and finally his teeth punch through her hoodie and get to the skin below.

[shenunigans]

It's already been an exhilarating little introduction to Arenas for Dave. Being chased by monster sized trolls kind of inspires that dwindling fear for your life that fizzles when you gain immortality. He isn't immortal here, he isn't a time traveler here. He's back to square one, pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

His lungs are burning by the time he's found the house. He's sure he'd lost track of the wannabe hulk when he'd slipped through crevice after crevice. He hadn't seen anyone else around here, so he's hoping he can just walk into one of these places and just hide under a bed for a while to be sure. There's a worry that he might walk into a house full of murderous assholes, but his desire to get off the streets overrides it.

He isn't even in the place long before he hears a voice, his blood running cold all over again as he curses softly under his breath. "Fuck- uh. Don't kill me, I'm unarmed." Wait, should he be telling them that? "I mean, I am armed. I have two. And weapons, lots of them. But I won't hurt you, I was just looking for a place to be super quiet in." Because that's a perfectly normal thing to want. "I can go if I'm harshing your buzz or something."

[gardienne]

Eponine laughs suddenly.

"Monsieur, if you are to survive at all, you must learn to lie better than that. You cannot say you have no weapons and lots of weapons then, and a place to be quiet. Such things are not together in the arenas."

She moves closer, pulling her scissors out from the waistband of her trousers.

"Who are you? I don't know you at all. Do you have anything? Food? Chocolate?" That last one is a bit of a desperate hope, but it's worth a try, right?"

[gardienne]

Eponine screams again as she's dragged once more: her feet lose their grip on the floor properly as she tries to resist, and she half falls against R, clutching at him to prevent falling.

But then his teeth puncture her skin and she screams once more.

"R - R, NO! NO, do not kill me! No - look, R! You might eat Orc - Orc is fat! And Diana - she is fatter than I. Come - Don't - Don't - OH! But I know where they are. Let me go and eat them instead."

It's such a shame that R is a zombie, not a troll, and Eponine a girl over a goat. It might turn out differently then, but alas. This isn't a fairytale.

Eponine's face streams with frightened tears and mucus from her nose and even drool from where she's spat her pleas at Orc. She tries to push away once more, but it hurts now, to use even her left arm - will both be useless against him now? Oh God, please don't let it be!

The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[carnagecarnival]

When Ian falls, he ponders it, leaving the corpse be. But compulsion, instinct, and habit win out. Take off the head, keep them from rising. Take off the motherfucking head because you want to. You need to. It's funny. He pulls the pick axe out and savors the noise it makes, a terrible 'schluck'. Then he reaches to the body, grips the head, and tears. The flesh rips free and blood spatters, on the ground, on him. He gasps a breath, the way a drug addict does on the first hit.

There will be creatures then, seeking the corpse, sniffing out the spill of blood. And so he drags the corpse, smearing blood like a paintbrush with his limp form. The boy was his age, he thinks. Or something close to it. Ain't personal, just survival. He doubts his victim will see it as such. He drags the corpse one direction, tears off a limb and throws it in another, and then he stalks off away from it, the head hung in his grip by the hair, for a lack of horns to hang onto. He searches through the fog, looking for somewhere to leave his temporary timebomb of rounding up beasts-- barkbeasts to cull and eat-- until the corpse would be picked up. The more blood spread the better.

And of course, his eyes and ears stay ready for any noise what comes. And as he steps up to the hive and pushes the door open, he hears a voice.

"THERE WILL BE NO MAKING OF HIS MOTHERFUCKING CULL TODAY, SISTER," He calls out from the dark.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[gardienne]

"I know you." Eponine is trying to place the voice without seeing the Initiate. She doesn't want to move - wants the safety of the darkness.

"Who is it? Will you hurt me? Come out so I can see you - but if you try to attack me, I will fight back, and I will kill you, I swear."

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[carnagecarnival]

Half of him, the part up and awakened upon what he's doing now, says to cull her too. Cull everyone, kill ALL these motherfuckers, show capitol what needed to be shown, prove he ain't just a dime a dozen killed. But another part remembers she is... a friend, he supposes. And important to Sigma. Not to be touched, not to be harmed.

And so the war in his mind rages, like the Messiahs tow got into a wicked dispute, the loud and soft, until it becomes a back forth so steady it's like a hum. The wings of an insect. A middling balance of the two, that feels a little numb.

"A sister ain't going to cull him," He tells her. "THIS AIN'T HOW ALL HIS SCENE SHALL PLAY, WHETHER SHE WANTS IT TO OR MOTHERFUCKING NOT." He steps forward into the hive, his pack over his shoulder, a pickaxe in one hand, and Ian's head in the other. Blood coats him.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[gardienne]

And Eponine freezes. In the dim light of the room, in the light of her torch, she can just about make out the Initiate. And the axe. It makes her own scissors look completely ridiculous. But then her eyes light upon the head in the Initiate's fist. Is it?

No -

No - NO - She steps forward. But yes.

"Is... have you?" She's stunned.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[carnagecarnival]

He lifts a brow, and along with it Ian's head. It's comical and it is the furthest thing from it.

"Thought to drag out the beasts, get a fucking hunt on true. WASTE MOTHERFUCKING NOT." But that isn't what she's asking, is it? He sees the way her eyes have gone round, the way she looks like a weight has befallen her. His mind is still spinning too fast between states to give proper note and care of it like he should. "Yes, he culled him."

He didn't realise they were close. Too late now.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[gardienne]

"You... Ian..." She's shocked - shocked to her absolute core. Never, ever has she seen such cruelty, as to parade a dead man's head about. Never...

OH -

She doesn't even know how it happens, but she's running at the Initiate, running to knock him over, to cut his throat the way he has beheaded her Ian.

"YOU HORRID MONSTER. YOU - YOU BASTARD. YOU - GOD! IAN! IAN, MY DARLING, DARLING IAN. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU FOR THIS. I WILL MAKE YOU PAY - OH, GOD, IAN!"

As she shouts, she begins to cry, noisily sobbing her grief and her anger. "How could you? You FUCKING monster!" She reaches for her scissors with her one good arm, brandishing them straight at the Initiate.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[carnagecarnival]

He's not surprised. Back before, half a sweep ago, he'd have laughed. Loud and cruel, right in her face. He'd have mocked her in thinking he was anything less and that there was any, any damn thing what could be done about it. Not now.

He liked Eponine. And thus he has left her betrayed. But he cannot bow down to culling yet and never shall he willingly do so except to the most select motherfucking few. He still has work to do.

Teeth bared, he makes to intercept her anyway he can, trip her feet, catch her wrist and twist it back, anything that he can. "YES, HE IS A MOTHERFUCKING MONSTER!" He roars back. "That he is. THAT HE IS ALWAYS UP AND MOTHERFUCKING BEEN! And he will take the life of she just as easily, sister! STAND THE MOTHERFUCK DOWN!" He brandishes the pickaxe in one hand but he doesn't swing. He drops the head in hand, letting it roll on the floor, and with his claws he does swing.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[gardienne]

Eponine struggles in the Initiate's grip, screaming out in fury as she tries her best to level her scissors at him. The way he's restraining her, though, she can't get them anywhere near him, and she swears loudly.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU FOR THIS. I SHAN'T FORGIVE YOU." She screams and struggles as his claws descend on her, as Ian's head bounces, and she falls, his claws gashing her cheek.

She falls in a heap. When she turns her head, she sees Ian's lying on the floor too, his eyes open and apparently staring at her.

That does it. She turns away from him, huddling on the floor, hiding her face. And this time, her scream isn't one of anger but on anguish. Her back heaves as she sobs noisily, no longer caring if the Initiate lives or if he kills her. Rather, she looks back at Ian's head, and slowly, slowly, inches closer to it. Finally, she reaches out and cradles poor Ian's head, sobbing into his hair.

Re: The Death of Ian (with mun permission) - Gore warn, decapitation, etc.

[carnagecarnival]

He's never felt this. He's never experienced anything like this. Seen it, yes, countless times. But it.. it was deserved, it was earned, the other would be dead soon enough, he didn't leave loose ends on his missions, this... He finds himself wondering, for the first time in his life; was he a moirail, a matesprit, ashmate to her? Was he so important? Was this what Terezi had meant before?

No. No, he can't afford this. He can't allow this! He has to make a show, he has to give them reason to keep him around. Balance. Find motherfucking balance. Messiahs guide him.

"Asked for no motherfucking forgiveness," He says, and his voice is still cold. "AND IF YOU FOLLOW HIM, WICKED SISTER, HE WILL CULL YOU AND STILL ASK OF SHE NO FORGIVENESS." It would be a better show if he taunted. Could take up the scissors what she pointed and- He bites it back, before the urge washes over his promise. There's others what he can hunt, ones what ain't close to anyone he knows. He shall keep his word and he'll give them a motherfucking show as how he wants.

"The conquering night, to dominate as only with spark abstracted. THE FILLING OF GODS' HOLLOW PITS, AS IN UMBRAGE DAYS THEIR CONTIGENCE COME. Thine mouth is dead and from it spill refracted. AS THE DARK SPILL'S CUT ON THE NOTE, AS SO THE LAMBENT AVENGING WITH CRY AND DRUM. Oh angel, oh angel, oh end of times. OH MOTHERFUCKING DEATH."

He brings his hand up to smear the blood over the wall as he turns and walks. He listens close for if she rises. His back is turned, like she ain't a threat even though he knows she has her scissors, but he can't give a damn.

[iphigeneia]

Felicity did not return Eponine's curtsey, instead she grasped onto Eponine's uninjured arm. "I am fine, Eponine. I am quite merry in fact, now that I have found you. Tell me, what do you make of this arena? I think I rather like it better than the last one. There is more chance to stretch one's legs in this place than in the last. And the weather almost feels refreshing. It isn't stuffy or stale, as the other one was."

Raising a brow, she reaches for Eponine's bandaged arm. "What have we here? Who did all that?"

[shambler]

It's too late: one bite is all it takes to kill Eponine, whether it's now in this building or a few days later with the infection boiling inside. It'll kill her just as easily as it killed him, whether she'd bitten in a major artery or a minor scratch on the ankle. R would've mumbled an apology if he didn't already have his mouth full.

He lurches along with Eponine as she struggles and trips, falling against the table. It skitters out from under them, sending R down to the floor and dragging his prey along for the ride. His hungry moans fill the room, the sound familiar to the Capitol fans watching, rapt, as Eponine cries. It's a known fact in the Capitol circles that Eponine is an ugly crier, but her fans argue that's half the charm. That's what makes her so painfully human.

Besides. It must mean something that R's bitten her not once, not twice, but three times already.

R tears at her shoulder for a chunk before he jerks his head away, a strip of her bloodied sweater hanging from his mouth as he stares down at Eponine, grey eyes blank.

[shenunigans]

The laugh is almost as startling as the initial encounter had been. Dave's brows shoot up, but he calms quickly. She's laughing, it's all good, he better laugh too. Awkwardly.

"Thanks for the tip, I'll keep that in mind." He gives his shoulders a small shrug- but then she's approaching and pulling those scissors out and he's wondering if he made the right choice letting himself calm down a little.

"I- what? No." He starts, but he stumbles over his words at the last question. "I'm Dave, Strider. I came here a month or so ago, I think." He takes a small step back. "I got bupkis, sorry. If I had chocolate you'd be the first to know."