thearena | (no subject)

WHO | Lottie, Some, Howard, Draco, and Don, at various times.
WHAT | Sick Lottie is not doing so well.
WHEN | About a week in.
WHERE | Inside the building, hidden away.
WARNINGS / NOTES | Gruesome death. ~~But not Grue Some death.~~ I am working on the assumption that Some has her tucked away, and Don and Draco and Howard will come across her at different time. If anyone wants to actively kill her (Howard) or actively sit with her while she dies, just lemme know.

This was miserable.

She was covered in bruises. Every little touche seem to send bruised blossoming on her skin. And the knick on her leg when she had been tucked away here? Still oozing blood. Her brain felt feverish, fuzzy, and her hands trembled horridly whenever she tried to do, well...anything.

Some had left her with food and water, but it only made her feel guilty. Anything that went past her lips came right back out. She had given up on even trying anything besides sipping at the water.

At least, small favors, the little office they had found to tuck her away in had no mirrors. She could see redness on her hands, blisters and little sores. She knew she must look like a delight.

Time was moving strange. She caught her self singing, and had to force herself to stop. More than once. Than again, if someone found her in here and took her out, it wouldn't be too bad. She couldn't ask them to do that though.

Threaded | Flat

Truth be told, he wasn't doing much better than she was. Getting out of the basement had done him some good, and the spoils he'd managed to snag down there were at least some reassurance that it wasn't a wasted trip. But now, he was left wandering the area, trying to avoid the inevitable that was running into other Tributes.

He stifled another cough into the sleeve of his coat, the heavy thing weighing him down and really doing nothing for his fever. The only reason Draco had stopped his ascent at all had been because of the singing he heard through the corridors; he had carefully picked his way through things, finding the office with some difficulty.

"Is someone in here?" He asked quietly, not so loud as to announce either of their presences.

Oh shell. Oh shell.

Now that he figured out what this place was, he had to leave. He had to leave and get as far away as he could. Stop the inevitable as long as possible. But he had to get others out of here as soon as possible. He had to find his other allies.

And that's when he heard the singing, and his blood began to ran cold.

No.

He quickly turned and backtracked, finding a corridor to a small office he had not spotted before. What - who - he found in there made him cry out.

"No-!"

Edited 2012-11-20 15:57 (UTC)

For a while, Howard tries to ignore the singing, convinced it's a trap. No one would be stupid enough to give away their position unless they were well-equipped to handle anything that came their way.

But for the most part the snares he set for the birds haven't yielded any catches yet, and the hunger's kicking in. He's used to hunger, but in this kind of scenario he's going to need more strength than just the bare minimum he's been surviving on. Maybe if he finds the singer he can try and sneak away with their things.

His bones ache and his stomach turns. He tells himself that it's just the infections he came in with getting the better of him, and doesn't dare entertain the possibility that it's anything more.

He slinks on down the hall and listens. The voice sounds pained, almost, and distracted - it's only then that it occurs to him that he might not be hearing an intentional trap but someone crazy or delirious. He finds the woman - although really she doesn't seem that much older than him, less than a decade probably - and at first assumes she's so overtly sick that it has to be a ruse.

But she doesn't really move, except to sing to herself, and she doesn't seem to notice him, so he sneaks up close to see if she has anything on her he can take. There's the water, at least. He'll need that.