R. Lutece (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dotsanddashes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-06-22 01:00 am
dotsanddashes) wrote in thearena2014-06-22 01:00 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head....
Who: Rosalind, Zombie!Robert, and YOU!
What: Catch-all - while Rosalind tries to bring her "brother" back to himself (unsuccessfully).
Where: Wandering the town, either in the old buildings or moving between them.
When: Week 5
Warnings/Notes: Zombie!Robert, a Rosalind on the edge, and perhaps some language. Watch this space, edited as necessary. Feel free to happen upon her however you'd like! You can catch them walking or her caring for him.
He had come out of the fog in the the blink of an eye.
Rosalind had been moving along, searching out anything she could use, keeping an ear to the ground...and then she had realized she had company. She had been poised to strike, raising her makeshift weapon as the figure came closer, closer, parting the haze in the air and entering her line of sight - and her heart nearly stopped. The weapon had slipped out of her hands and fell to the ground with a clatter that echoed down the street.
"Robert?"
Wasting no time, she had run to him, nearly jumping into his arms before realizing that something was wrong. He was listless, unresponsive, pale...simple-minded. It was a red flag, of course, but not for the same reason as the other Tributes - she knew these symptoms. She had seen them before. Displacement sickness, the backlash of the mind against the body for moving from one world to another. This is how he had been when he first came through into her dimension...and she had pulled him through it then. She could pull him through this now.
So through the week, she leads him around - making him rest in abandoned buildings, trying to get him to eat (at the expense of food for herself), and singing to him. Music is what brought him around before; it must certainly work again now.
And so a voice cuts through the quiet now and again, softly insinuating songs old and new.
She WILL bring him back to himself.
He's here with her - that's what really matters.
What: Catch-all - while Rosalind tries to bring her "brother" back to himself (unsuccessfully).
Where: Wandering the town, either in the old buildings or moving between them.
When: Week 5
Warnings/Notes: Zombie!Robert, a Rosalind on the edge, and perhaps some language. Watch this space, edited as necessary. Feel free to happen upon her however you'd like! You can catch them walking or her caring for him.
He had come out of the fog in the the blink of an eye.
Rosalind had been moving along, searching out anything she could use, keeping an ear to the ground...and then she had realized she had company. She had been poised to strike, raising her makeshift weapon as the figure came closer, closer, parting the haze in the air and entering her line of sight - and her heart nearly stopped. The weapon had slipped out of her hands and fell to the ground with a clatter that echoed down the street.
"Robert?"
Wasting no time, she had run to him, nearly jumping into his arms before realizing that something was wrong. He was listless, unresponsive, pale...simple-minded. It was a red flag, of course, but not for the same reason as the other Tributes - she knew these symptoms. She had seen them before. Displacement sickness, the backlash of the mind against the body for moving from one world to another. This is how he had been when he first came through into her dimension...and she had pulled him through it then. She could pull him through this now.
So through the week, she leads him around - making him rest in abandoned buildings, trying to get him to eat (at the expense of food for herself), and singing to him. Music is what brought him around before; it must certainly work again now.
And so a voice cuts through the quiet now and again, softly insinuating songs old and new.
She WILL bring him back to himself.
He's here with her - that's what really matters.
what say you to sirens into hellrena in the next couple of tags?
"Is he a tribute or did he appear from the fog?" You can practically hear his eyes narrowed in the way he speaks as he asks. He doesn't move out from where he is, just waits, hugging his corner. He can hear some more warped howling in the distance, and honestly he'd rather risk a scuffle here than go back out there right now.
His concern here though is if the woman's brother is one of the things spawned here from who knows where, and if so, when he will slip into being a monster.
If you don't do it next post, I'll start it in my next!
"...That isn't any of your business," she barks, no doubt confirming Edward's suspicions without actually answering his question. "He's not well and I am mending him. I won't say it again - GO. AWAY."
Her words echo through the desolate house, ringing against the rundown walls. There is desperation in them, as much as she tries to filter it out.
on it mon ami
He opens his mouth, about to reply when sirens fill the arena, reaching them in a chilling reverberation that causes him to jump in a very undignified fashion. The sound does strange things with the acoustics of the house, but the most unsettling part may be how striking the cold in his bones is as heat begins to make the traces of fog feel like steam instead. The environment begins to change, and there's all sorts of not sure what to feel circling around in his head. He wouldn't let fear get a grip on him again, not yet, but this- was- not- natural!
But he was sure it was safer in here than it was outside.
"Th-this is a big enough house for three, I'm sure!" He would just make sure to keep a safe distance away from her and her "brother" and things should be okay...
Ohoho
Rosalind jumped up from Robert in surprise, the sound of her feet connecting with the floor lost in the echo and wail ringing out through the air. For the moment, she watched the room instead of Robert...narrowing her eyes as the very substance of the walls and floors peeled away, replacing crumbling plaster with rusted metal grates. The heat was becoming heavy, too much, and she threw her jacket off to one side in a hurry.
"I'm not about to trust someone who will not show themselves," she barked, loudly, hackles up. "Least of all at this moment. Step out where I can see you, or I will assume you are waiting to ambush me."
It may have sounded a bit paranoid - but she had to protect Robert.
She had to.
His ragged breathing slowly shifted into a low snarl, but it was buried against the sounds of the sirens.
no subject
This also meant that Rosalind and the "man" beside her was also in his view, and he honestly was convinced that she must be crazy to think that thing was safer to be around than himself.
His grip tightens further on the little makeshift weapon in his hand, moving up to a defensive position in front of his chest. The terror is plain on his face, Rosalind, and his eyes aren't on you.
no subject
"Lower. Your. Weapon." Loud, commanding. Her face was a sneer. "I will attack if you do not-"
It was then, too late, that she realized he was not looking at her. Before she could even turn around, Robert was grabbing at her from behind, snarling like a wild animal. She struggled in his grip, pushing him back, away, the rare expression of pure fear wiping away all malice from her face.
"Robert - Robert, please, stop - it's me, it's Rosa-"
She spun around to throw him off, leaping up onto the bed with tears running down her face.
And then he noticed Eddie.
no subject
With his zombie father, he had all of the negative feelings swirling around that had been the fuel of his fighting spirit. Here, there was no unresolved conflict that he could vent his frustrations towards. It was simply a stranger, a monster, and unmeasurable amounts of fear and afterthoughts.
He tries to keep Rob-Zombie at arms length, but all the hunger in the beast won out, and Edward buckled under the weight of it. Teeth tore away flesh and muscle from his throat, an injury where there was no chance or hope of survival.
The little makeshift weapon fell from his hand, clinking against the metal grating the floor had become.
no subject
Not Robert. And even if it were, he wouldn't want to live like this, right? Out of the two of them, Robert had always been the more kindhearted.
He wouldn't abide by this.
He wouldn't.
Biting down on her lip, she sprang from the mattress, striking the monster with the nail bat against the side of the head. He resisted, grabbed at her - but she kept hitting, driving him away from the other man, striking over and over and over again until his blood was splattered all over her front.
Numb, she turned towards Edward, regarding him with a hollow expression that reflected the zombie's.
no subject
He gives her the simultaneously weakest and most smug grin a dying man could give.
It was so very I told you so. "F-" he coughs, some blood running over his lips and down his cheeks to drip onto the metal floor, "-fog." He coughs more, the exposed and half-torn muscles of his throat visible as they flex with the movement.
You could finish him or leave him to die, Rosalind. At this point, he really doesn't care either way. At least he's not being completely eaten alive.
no subject
And then he grins. She sees red, and it isn't just his blood.
"Shut up," she hisses, raising the bloody bat above her head...and then bringing it down hard on Edward's.
"...Shut up."
end thread?
The blackness that comes can't come soon enough, and through all the fear he embraces it, wanting to be free of this hell, even if it means going to another.
Yep!
Tears roll hot down her cheeks.
Again. Again.
Stop.
The nails come to a stop in the side of Edward's crushed head, the board standing straight up despite no longer being held.
Rosalind is on the metal floor, crumpled and sobbing as the blood from the two corpses dribbles down through the grates.
She is alone.
In spite of herself, she reaches out and holds 'Robert's' hand.