The Grand Adventures of Tony and Wyatt [closed]

[nightlightheart]

WHO | Tony Stark and Wyatt Earp
WHAT | Good times in the arena
WHEN | Around a week after the Cornucopia?
WHERE | Somewhere in the canyon

Moderation is something that Tony has always had a hard time dealing with, but a necessity that he is, at the very least, attempting to learn. He likes to think that he's doing okay. Maybe not as good as others, but he's still alive and hasn't starved himself yet so that has to count for something. Hell, he's even got a few cans of food left, though he can't say that he's looking forward to the can of beans.

He's saving those for last. Which, could be a while.

He hasn't had much of an appetite lately. The headaches. The nausea. Cold canned tuna has sounded about as appetizing as a can of worms, but hopefully, for the cameras, it hasn't shown as obviously as he's felt it.

Nausea and headaches aside, he's had enough of the ruins and the beach and the rocks and... well, everything. But short of getting himself killed, the only real way to get away from it is to walk as far as he can in the other direction and even though its likely that he is hardly the last person with the same idea, at least there's still water that direction.

Comments

[the_marshal]

The arena that been so in Wyatt's favor to start, had taken a sudden and nasty turn on him. The pains in his head had not only remained, but strengthened, straining his vision and making concentration difficult. A deep, rattling cough had settled in his chest, bringing with it a bitter, dark phelgm that stuck in his throat.

But still he soldiered on. He didn't want to give those Capital sons'abitches the satisfication of seeing him in pain.

Crouched at one of the small streams running through the wide, deep canyon, he took a moment to drink (disguising a need for rest) until the sudden sound of movement nearby had his head snapping up.

Squinting, water still dripping from his lips, he looked around... then, moving low and fast, he headed back toward the cover of the trees, picking a big ol' bastard with high, gnarled roots to duck behind and watch from.

[nightlightheart]

Maybe it was a rustle of leaves or a snap of a twig, but even a head blurry with fatigue and fever, Tony heard the sounds. Movement. Of something. Or more likely, someone, nearby.

He stills for a moment, taking in his surrounding and sees nothing. No one. But he isn't convinced that's true.

There's a knife in his pocket, sharp enough to get the job done. He knows. He's nicked his finger with just a touch. He hasn't had to use it yet, but he will. Or, thinks that he will.

With a deep breath to calm himself, he reached inside and wraps his fingers around it. Ready to be ready if he has to be. And then takes another step.

[the_marshal]

Waiting with this back pressed to the bark of the old tree, Wyatt pulled his knife from his belt and gently unfolded it, hoping the soft "click" wasn't loud enough to give him away.

Then he waited - one heartbeat, two... - listening for more footsteps before leaning to his right and peeking slowly around the mossy trunk.

He scanned quickly, saw nothing, and slipped back to lean around the other way.

Still nothing. At first, then - a shape. Definitely human, but still too far off to make out who.

[nightlightheart]

He's fairly certain his own damn pounding heart will give him away. And not in the sense that it's glowing there right beneath his jacket. (Something he's glad for this go around: layers to hide the glowing blue-white that could so very easily make him a target come nightfall.) No. Its the sound that worries him, pounding there in his chest.

It's got to be the lack of sleep. And the ruins that have poisoned him. He isn't normally this tense. So worried that his next step is going to be his last.

Whoever it is, knows he's here now. He can't just turn around and go back the way he came. He probably can't outrun them, either. So naturally, he does what Tony does best. He decides to draw attention to himself.

"I know you're out there," he says to nothing, and waits.

[the_marshal]

For a moment nothing happened, then suddenly, Wyatt appeared, swinging out from behind the tree with a grin.

"Tony Stark, you crafty sonabitch," he called, the curse sounding more like a pet name. "You ain't dead yet?"

[nightlightheart]

"Wyatt!? Jesus man, I was pretty sure I was about to die!" Tony doesn't bother to hide the relief that has suddenly washed over him.

Of all the people he could have possibly run into. Yeah. Wyatt is one of the best possible options.

"So. What's new?" he asks with a grin.

[the_marshal]

"You and me both, friend," Wyatt replied with a laugh, gesturing at Tony with still open knife. "You always go 'round annoucing yerself like that?"