We'll have to try again after the silence has retruned

[carnagecarnival]

Who| Initiate and open! Multiple prompts!
What| House raiding, Shion's death + Dog hunting, Walkers + amusement parks, Hell + Nightmare/Fear power (message passing?)
Where| Abandoned building, out around, amusement park
When| Starting from the first day to hell time
WARNINGS| Gore, violence, death, desecration of corpses, language, so on

a)

When he'd found Mituna's corpse, still at the cornucopia-- the damn fog making him loop back even after making his way off-- he'd found it torn asunder by beasts. Even after the last time of him having gotten so far, all the training done, he fell so quick this time. But all the same, he'd found the neck still in one piece, the necklace he'd given him still there, his token. He'd reached down and pulled it off, taking the gold skull off the chain before returning the latter. Then he lid the skull onto his own necklace token, the container of makeup and the linked loops of three hung together on it. He'd given grace unto his moirail to meet him back in Capitol, and then he turned away, back into the fog.

Now he has the tiny skull in his fingers. He's been thinking of prophecy. He's been thinking of shit destined. The undoing of what may be undone... and what may not. He's a killer and a killer he shall be for all time. But he has to make all a difference on what is done now. It's a difficult balance what all to strike.

Even now, as he searches the empty hive and hears that creak of noise, his first instinct is to grip his weapon and let loose a warning growl. He watches the door frame, weapon ready and ears flicking.

b)

His first cull is one what all he could recognize. He'd met him in the first arena. The boy had been a daywalker then and the Initiate had spared his life and R's, for the robbing of them, thinking they'd be more useful taking out other tributes. And then in capitol, there had been expose done with his mention. Shion they called him.

But he doesn't know the boy, not really, and he doesn't know that anyone he knows is close to him. Fair game. And a good warm up.

He lunges out from the fog and tears the boy apart. Faster than the motherfucker could feel a thing, messy enough to impress and disgust the capitol in turn. He'd secure his place. He'd show them his value. Oh, a motherfucking monster is he. He laughs.  

He takes the head off as always, but leaves it there. It's only when the barkbeast comes that he realises the value more in the spread of blood. It's no bigger than the average lusus. He can take it down. Maybe make a motherfucking meal of it. And so, as Shion's corpse is brought away, he readies for another strife.

c)

Despite his running into Shion, whom he really remembered only as he'd been that one arena long ago, he hadn't expected daywalkers. Yes, there was the one, R. No, these daywalkers looked nothing like trolls. But these were different and the same all the motherfucking same. These are daywalkers turned beastly. But they were still daywalkers looking to motherfucking eat. When he finds the first, opening it's neck to teeth, everything he's learned in his youth comes through. Take the head.

He moves quick. So does the daywalker-- damn, he ain't used to that-- but it's no matter. He sinks his pickaxe into it's back, removes it and continues his dance about it, dodging claws and teeth where they are. He pulls off an arm and comes off just as easy as any corpse, then he sinks an the axe in the back of its neck and pulls, tearing. The daywalker stumbles and the Initiate reaches and rips the head off the rest of the way. Breathing hard, he turns to assess his surroundings, if there's any more of them too near, wherever he is now after the scuffle in the fog.

And then the first blessing comes to him. Like a sign from above, he finds himself walking into abandoned Shangri-La. His eyes go wide as he finds first coaster, great and looming and not a beast as first thought. His lips pull up at the corners. Games. A Ferris wheel. Attractions and mirth of all sort. It ain't a carnival but by Messiahs it's good enough.

He doesn't even mind the threats about him or the way it all wants for coming apart at the hinges. The Initiate starts to run through it all, a laugh building and bursting from his lips, just as hinged as everything else in the amusement park. He spins in his delight. It would seem the last of his fucks have been lost to the fog.

d)

The noise nearly forces him to bring his hands up to his ears. The sound of siren's startle him into looking skyward, searching the sky for ships, the around him for some other disaster. And there is indeed, it up and surrounds. The world melts away. Literally motherfucking melts. He watches numb and wide-eyed as everything hollows.

And in its place, he feels it. His chucklevoodoo come him. The holy fear. It stretches out inside him and the outside curls up within, both uniting. The second blessing. The Messiahs were pleased.

Well, ain't that just attest to pleasing them more? When all he had his power last time, he'd taunted and toyed yes, he'd kept up a motherfucking cover built. But he'd spared the lives of them all. Of every single one of these motherfuckers he'd gone to the sparing. Not this time.

His eyes color and flash. He lets his voodoo, the fear, the motherfucking gris-gris gruesome spread over the amusement park.

Comments

d

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy was caught off guard by the sirens, as she imagined most everyone was. Still she recognized an alarm when she heard them.

She'd become separated from Shepard again and cursed the very nature of the arenas for how easy it was to lose someone. Lose focus for just one moment and they were gone and you could go weeks before finding them again!

Was it a Capitol trick? Or something deeper?

Like a switch in her brain she felt a shiver pass through her, and a heavy weight settled over her skin. It was instinct that her body transformed to stone like this when she was feeling the need to be defensive. Only for a moment did she revel in numbing sensation the stone had to protect her skin from the changing temperatures.

Only for a moment, because she realized if her powers were on then so too were the others in the arena. There were forces of death that lurked among the districts. That angel who had killed so many in the museum, that woman who had exploded. Even her allies were powerful enough if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time...

...or if the arena had done something to make them more aggressive like the masks had in the last arena.

Deciding that calling out for her would be foolish, Sandy set off to find Shepard before danger could find her. She would instead be running into another ally who was just as dangerous if not more so.

d

[futilecycle]

Among the sirens and chaos, Sigma lurks about the Arena quietly, avoiding even his allies as he carries on in a daze. Yet there is one in particular with whom he must speak: if his plans are to go as intended, he could not stand to leave the Initiate in the shadows. Sigma is in rough shape, but he is surviving; blood flecks his clothes and coats his arms from dogs that dared to think of him as an easy target, and Sigma carries with him a small sack of bricks to bludgeon any other would-be attacker. The roots of his hair have taken on a whiter colour, and exhaustion is plain on his face, but Sigma is a survivor and believes the Initiate would, at least, be impressed with his tenacity. As the heat strikes, the Doctor rolls up his sleeves and stows the removable ring of his eyepiece for now.

Then something comes with the heat, and Sigma freezes, gripped by a mild panic. Every doubt and insecurity he had felt before the Arena strikes him like a wave breaching shoal and Sigma flinches, gripping at his arms.

But this fear is a comfort. The Doctor is exhausted and paranoid, yes, but he has been capable of keeping his panic in check. He had always prided himself on his ability to suppress fear if it meant surviving another moment. If it has cloaked him now unexpectedly, it could only be the work of one particular Tribute...

And it is exactly the chance he needs. He stops, his breath quickened slightly in his fear, and waits for the Initiate to find him.

C (Sorry WOT OTL;;;;)

[this8itch]

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Vriska was so sick and tried of this stupid ass game and its fucking arena. Oh this would be fun, I said. Would be easy~ So fucking stupid. She wanted to slap her past self. From the word go everything didn't go according to her 'master plan'. She lost her Eight Vision Fold eye, again, missed out on a free easy meal, and got attacked by fucking giant ass spiders. Which in hindsight wasn't as horrible as what she was facing now. Now she had to deal with these shambling limbs of nightmare fuel.

Wondering through the thick fog the first one caught her by surprise, approaching the young troll from her blind side. By the time she knew it was there, it was too late to get out of the way. The walker had latched on to her by the shoulders with its long pointed fingers and Vriska was taken back by how strong the creature was. Its featureless face cracked open to reveal rows of sharp teeth hungry to bite down on her flesh. Vriska quickly jerked forward, freeing her self enough room she could swing a powerful right hook with her makeshift brass knuckles right into the creature's mouth. Teeth cracked and broke under the force of the thick steel chain wrapped around her forearm and the creature buckled falling back. Though its attack didn't go without injury. The shattered teeth sliced Vriska's hand were the chain was not, staining the metal cerulean as the cuts bleed.

In the struggle with the first one it would appear that the noise had attracted more of the walkers seeing their silhouettes ungulate in the fog. Now, one or two of them wouldn't be a bad thing, but no. It was just her shitty luck that she had stumbled into a whole fucking pack of these things! Who ever made them she was going to find and punch repeatedly in the face. Hard. Well, she couldn't worry about that now. It wasn't in her nature to abscond but with being surrounded, that started to look like a viable option.

She bared her fangs, twirling the long loose end of the eight feet of chain in her left hand, she charged the fog. When ever she came across one of the beasts she would lash out with the chain like a club or slam another metal fist into their pasty white bodies, cutting herself a path out. Through the hazy veil she could see something looming in the distance. A building? She made a break for it in hopes to find shelter and shake these fuckers. As she raced towards it everything started to become clearer. What she saw was the rundown skeleton of a roller coaster and Vriska found herself wondering into an abandoned amusement park. Her pace slowed as he stared dumbfounded at her surroundings.

But then a laugh cut through the still air and her whole body tensed, stopping in her tracks. Just ahead she could see another silhouette in the fog........ and it was big........ had there were horns........ and........

SHIIIIIIIIT.

Her eyes went wide seeing the other troll more clearly as the fog lifted. No hell. HEEEEEEEELL NOOOOOOOO. That's it. Officially done with this shit. He seemed distracted with his retarded spinning like a fucking wiggler on his wiggling day. She could just back up and go the other way. Frankly, she rather deal with the walkers.

Frozen with indecision, one of the stragglers from the pack of walkers had followed her, creeping up from behind. Vriska heard the sounds of shambling feet and swiftly spun around to face it. Taking out the back of its knees with a swing of the chain she brought it down to her level. Without hesitation she positioned herself behind it wrapping the links around the beast's neck and pulled tight with a boot square in the middle of it's back. There was a loud crack of snapping bone and the head fell limp. Fuck, so much for being quiet. If he didn't see her before, he definitely would now.