thearena | I regained consciousness for THIS?!?

Entry tags:

I regained consciousness for THIS?!?

Who| Susannah, Don, and Bro
What| A mugging gone horribly wrong... well, more of a murder gone horribly right
Where| Silent Hill Arena
When| Week five, pre-Hellrena
Warnings/Notes| Character death, more to be added

It's been a month since someone dropped a brick (again) on her head, a month spent swimming in and out of consciousness and making for very boring tv, a month spend under the close watch of Sai Green Turtle himself, but Susannah's finally up and walking without stumbling, finally able to help Don, to maybe pay him back for all the care he'd taken of her. She'd even gone out on her own for an hour or two, made her way to the fruit trees and back with a little something to supplement that sponsor gift he's said they'd got.

"Pears! Half a dozen. Three for you, three for me, one a day will last us to midweek."

She pulls Don's share out of her pocket to hand to him.

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"Thank you." At this, Don smiled. "It definitely should last."

The weird hunger notwithstanding. Every time he had eaten the Arena food through the past few days, he found himself more hungry, and then the next thing he knew his rations would be gone and he'd have to go back and fetch more. However, he wasn't going to make that mistake again and eat the both of them out of rations.

Hopefully.

"I'm glad you pulled through. Now we just have to figure out how to last through another one of those 'fun' moments. Whenever they decide to turn up the heat."

Edited 2014-06-26 22:49 (UTC)

Bro considers himself very lucky. He's managed to take a few people out, though occasionally reluctantly. He's not a monster, to be sure. Just because he's killed people doesn't mean he enjoys it. But when it's him against other people? You can bet your ass he's going to do whatever it takes to survive.

Unfortunately, along with that comes an aversion to eating the arena food. He hasn't eaten any since arriving, but his resolve to do that is quickly dying with each day that passes. If he doesn't get something in him, then he'll probably die pretty damn soon just because he's not in tip top shape. So when he's scouting the area, finding supplies for him and Rose, his interest is piqued when he overhears people.

People talking about food.

It's not even that reason that he decides in that moment that he's going to have to kill them. The food is a perk, but it sounds like the two of them have been here a while, they probably have some other shit he can scavenge- and if there's something he needs, it's shit to scavenge. So he edges closer, trying to get a better look-

And then he has a total nerdgasm, when he realizes it's a fucking ninja turtle. God, what is his life? This place is insane, and yet on some level he's enjoying himself. It's like a video game, but fuckin' real. Better than SBURB, to be fucking honest. But just because he's nerding out over the presence of a ninja turtle doesn't mean he isn't going to go through with it. So after getting a better look, he decides his best bet is to take care of the woman first.

After watching a few minutes, he begins to put his plan into motion. Once Don isn't looking, he's going to attempt to sneak up on Susannah. He's good at being quiet, and the fog helps a lot. If neither of them turn around, it's a good chance he'll be able to grab Susannah like he intends to.

It was true, the fog concealed sight. And in a way it also concealed sound, muffling it with voices and whispers. However, it didn't always mean that there wasn't something there. And in this Arena, sounds - all sounds - traveled.

Don knew this well enough, as he idly rubbed the back of his head when he turned. Pausing at the sudden sound of grass meeting shoe. He didn't know if it was real or not. But if it was, his partner heard it. And, better safe than sorry even if it was just his mind.

"...Hey, Susannah? Is it just me?"

His other hand went to grab the garden hoe.

"Or is there someone coming?"

Susannah's own hand goes to the club she'd been resting against her leg. "Yeah. Yeah, I hear it, Donatello Dali."

Damn it.

She spins around on the forspecial legs, raising her club.

Well, shit.

He doesn't expect them to hear him, but it's cool. He can change his plans. Initially he'd wanted to grab her and just break her neck or something, but it looks like a more forward approach his in order.

So he breaks into a run, pushing himself as fast as he can to close the distance as she turns around, and when he's close enough he's going to swing the butcher knife to cut her wherever it lands first.

Don was also instantly on his feet, wielding his bo hoe. He saw the knife, saw it flashing, and didn't intend for it to hit Susannah. Quick as he could, he aimed for the wrist holding the knife, swinging once he estimated the likely trajectory of the stab in his mind.

"Shell no you don't!"

Edited 2014-06-28 02:58 (UTC)

Susannah wishes she had a knife, had a plate, had a damned gun, something she could aim with. Wished she didn't still feel off-balances from the head injury, damn that brick, damn this place. She swings where she see the arm emerge from the fog, hoping to hit it.

"Shit-"

Maybe it was a mistake to come up against two opponents, but he's in this shit now. Don's hoe hits his wrist, knocking the knife out of his hand- and the rough edge of it slices into his wrist as well, and he hisses in pain. Susannah's club very nearly connects with his head, but he's flattening himself down to the ground, so that he can find the knife wherever it landed.

But first he's going to aim a kick at Susannah, hard as he can, before rolling out of the way of the hoe that he's sure is about to come down at him from Don's way.

He wasn't going to do anything to anyone. Not if he could help it.

Twirling the hoe, he swung, missed, but saw the direction Bro was going. He was going to swing again, this time with the blunt end.

If his kick had hit her anywhere but the inside of her prosthetic leg joints, she probably would have been fine. It wasn't like she could feel anything from those legs anyway. But the impact on the joints is enough to buckle her knees and she oversets herself, tumbling down.

Hit him once, shame on you. Hit him twice, shame on him. That's why he wasn't going to let that hoe hit him again. He was already bleeding from the wound, he didn't need anymore hoes goin' down, regardless of the fact he was from Texas.

So he dodged, and then rolled right towards Susannah, when he saw her falling down. His movements were quick, the strategy coming together in his head. He stopped beside her and raised the knife, swinging it down so that it could plunge into her, before pulling it out and leaping to his feet, prepared to take on the turtle then.

His knife was slick with blood, and it was thirsty for another death, or something dramatic like that.

"Susann-"

Too late. He saw the kid stab Susannah. And then, he saw red, as his eyes narrowed and the grip on his hoe tightened. The fruits - whether he realized it or not, whether he even realized the hit was fatal or not - certainly didn't help his sudden spike of anger towards this person for daring to hurt one of his allies.

So Don charged up and forward, practically boring lasers into Bro as he threw a roundhouse kick towards the offending hand with the offending weapon.

Whoever this blond fellow is, he's good at what he does. His knife thrust is aimed perfectly at her heart and she has barely a chance to feel shame at being taken down so quickly before thought is quite out of the question.

With Susannah out of the way, Bro felt like he had a much better shot at taking down the turtle. He wasn't afraid. He could do this. There was something seriously awesome about fighting a fucking ninja turtle of all things, holy shit. It was just him and the turtle, one on one.

A turtle trying to roundhouse kick the only weapon he had. Fuck.

He didn't have the opportunity to dodge it, so the kick sent his knife flying out of his hand, and god damn it felt like it nearly broke his hand in the process. "You fucker," he hissed, deciding to fight a bit like the turtle and send a kick his way, at the flat surface of the front of his shell.

Don saw the kick coming; Bro may as well have broadcast it. His hand flew up to deflect the kick from getting anywhere near his plastron, intending to send it to his side once his forearm and Bro's leg connected. Instead of to his gut.

He wasn't going to let some newbie get the better of him. ~~Why the shell was he acting like...no, no, he's acting perfectly normal.~~

"You're the one who killed Susannah!" he snarled back.

It was better than nothing- he knew he wasn't exactly being subtle, but he also wasn't taking this completely seriously, to be honest. He was fighting a giant humanoid turtle, how could anyone take that completely seriously?

"You're the one takin' it personally!" he snapped back, his voice exasperated. "It's part of the fuckin' game, numbnuts."

Bro took a few steps back, evaluating his options. He really just wanted to fucking get this over with, and it would be a little easier if he had something to fucking attack with. If he could just get his knife back, he'd be better off. Maybe if he just waited for Don to make the next move, an opening would present itself.

"And you killed my ally!"

He knew how to play the game. And he had no problem with taking it personally. He did a jump kick towards Bro, almost before he finished his sentence.

"You won't be apart for long," he threw back. He couldn't really even bring himself to feel sympathy about it, when he knows they'll just come back soon after- he remembers as much from his brief time here before.

Given his penchant for kicking, Bro saw it coming and decided to duck into a roll so that he could roll under the turtle and push himself back to his feet behind him, turning around swiftly so that he could aim a kick at the back of his shell.

The bad news, at least for Don: The kick connected. The good news, at least for Don: he was able to use the momentum of the hit to role as well. As he did so, he spotted the knife Bro had dropped, and made a dash for it.

Unfortunately, while rolling and then, seizing the knife, he momentarily forgot about the hoe.

Bro saw him going for the knife, and he knew he had one chance to get this right or else he would be pretty fucking screwed. He was calm though, and it was probably because of that, that he managed to spot the hoe Don had dropped, with enough time to grab it, stand up straight and twist around, swinging it as hard as he possibly could right at the back of Don's turtle shell, aiming to hit with the sharper edge of it- the same one that had cut into his arm earlier.

The hoe hit, and even pierced through a crevice in the shell pattern, just a little. Just enough to cause Don to scream in pained rage.

But the carapace on Don's back was just too strong to make for a killing blow. It was designed to withstand those kind of blows and sharp objects, and short of hitting him several hundred times, it just wasn't going to work.

Letting out a second, even angrier scream of war, Don turned back around to face Bro and charged. There was bloody murder in his eyes at this point. His more reasoned logic and any sense of strategy, straight out the window.

The carapace on his back was hard. His plastron, his front, on the other hand...well. There was a reason un-mutated turtles generally walked carapace-side up. It was still hard, but nowhere near as hard as the shell. And under the plastron? Organs galore, with nary any internal protection to stop anything from causing massive damage.

The sound of the hoe leaving a crack in that shell was pretty satisfying, at least he finally left some sort of injury on the damn turtle. He knew better now than to underestimate the turtle in the future- something about the fact Don was from a cartoon just made it easy to not take this seriously.

He could definitely tell that the turtle was mad and he couldn't blame him. He'd be pretty mad if you cracked his shell, too. If he had one. It was good. Anger was good. When you were angry enough, you didn't think the best. You did stupid stuff.

"You mad, bro?" he taunted, amusement in his voice. "You mad that I killed your girl? What, she your lover? That's nasty."

He sidestepped, moving swiftly out of the way so that Don would miss him completely.

A swing and a miss. Don was enraged. Beyond much rational thought. If he'd not been hyped up on the fruit, he would have simply given Bro a look of annoyance as he calculated his next move. As it was, Don wanted to tear that throat out for making such an insinuation. She had a boyfriend!

Just as planned, he could tell that Don was getting even more pissed at him. Good. Get angry, get murderous. Anger lead to mistakes "You hate me, I can fuckin' tell," he continued. "You wanna rip my face off and stomp on it, in the name of your dead girlfriend."

He gestured at Don to come here.

"Come the fuck on and do it."

"SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!"

And just like the under-the-influence idiot that he was, Don fell for it. He charged, thrusting the knife forward. His intention was to stab him, somewhere, anywhere, to shut him up.

Then he might take Bro up on his offer regarding his face.

Yeah, Bro didn't believe him. Don was angry enough about it that he had a hard time believing that there wasn't something going on between the two of them. But it didn't matter- what did matter was defending himself. As Don came at him, he sent the hoe swinging upwards to knock the knife out of his hand, and then sent it swinging around to hit at his underbelly, knowing full well that if he were to sidestep, Don would see it coming. It was time for a full on assault.

In all honesty? Don was telling the truth. They were allies, friends, but not that kind. Not that it could come across at all, given his completely irrational behavior at this point.

Don still saw what Bro was trying to do. The knife was knocked out of his hand, and he tried to grab the hoe. It only really helped a little; instead of going right into the center of his plastron, the hoe stabbed right into the off-center-right of his plastron.

Either way, he let out a gurgled gasp. Shell it all. Hoe did this jerk--

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I regained consciousness for THIS?!?

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I am probably interpreting "front of the shell" wrong just tell me if I am

Haha sorry yeah I meant the underbelly, I just couldn't word last night- you got it right

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