thearena | Mini Arena 2

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Mini Arena 2

Tributes are woken early, and the hovercraft ride is a long one. Not the longest some have experienced, but they are clearly going far.

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They land on the deck of the boat, and are ushered underneath, to the lower levels, quickly. Their stylists go from cabin to cabin, decking them out in over the top finery, before loading them into the pods installed into the corners of the rooms.

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The platforms lift them up, and they are all ringed around a grand buffet table, loaded with a grand feast looking ready to sag down from the weight. Among the food are supplies, plenty of them, all for the taking.

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They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early. They have also been warned to put on a good show. That's all this is about, a good show. None of them have been told that there can be multiple winners this time around.

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The sound of the gong plays crystal clear across the opening. The games have begun.

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Sigma wasn't the only one in the theater. Sabriel walked out from backstage, frowning as she looked at Klim, and her fingers tightened around her knife, but she didn't move to attack. Her black dress was in tatters, after she'd ripped it to make it easier to move in.

"Doctor Klim," Her voice was guarded, and she seemed to be eyeing the water as much as the man in front of her, "Fancy meeting you here."

She didn't want to hurt him- didn't want any of this. If this lesser arena was anything like the last, the one Hans had one, there would be multiple victors.

Edited 2014-08-05 02:48 (UTC)

Sigma freezes midstep as Sabriel appears on the stage - the water continues on without him and leaks down the steps. "Sabriel," Sigma begins, breath caught in his throat a moment. Was she angry with him? Would she strike? "I was... looking for a way up."

Wary of the knife, he does his best to exaggerate his concern so she might see it at her distance. He interprets her tattered dress as a sign she had seen battle and is genuinely worried, but tends to be a fairly expressionless person and thus some degree of embellishment is necessary here. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Sabriel said, though she frowned slightly.

"And there isn't another way out, or up- not that I could find, at any rate," She hesitated, but her hands and voice didn't tremble as she spoke, "I don't want to fight you, so please don't force me to defend myself. There were multiple winners in the last arena like this." Hopefully, this would be enough of an incentive for him to cooperate.

"Where do you think we should look next?"

There is a deep, heavy groan from the ship, in time with Sigma's crushing disappointment. This had been one of the last of his chances and now he was no better than blindly stumbling around. He wipes the sweat from his brow. He cannot panic, here...

"...There is always back the way we came. We do not have much time, however..." He disturbs the encroaching puddle of water with his foot to indicate what it is he speaks of. No doubt the hallways behind them that had been dry only minutes ago were nearly full. The ship was already tilted slightly and it might not be long until it tipped completely back...

As for her plea, Sigma smirks somewhat. "I have no intention of fighting you. It would cost us too dearly in time. Shall we search together, if you would tolerate my company?" She was such a sweet woman who had come to his aid the day Diana had left him, but no doubt with his confession a seed of distrust had sprouted in them all. Good.

"Fine. Another set of eyes and ears can't hurt," Sabriel agreed curtly, heading towards the door as her feet splashed towards the water.

She tried not to think of Death, or what it had felt like when the villagers had drowned. Or who had caused the flood that drowned them. Guilt was not going to help her here.

They needed to get up onto the deck. They hadn't been told what they needed to do to win... so best to just stay alive as long as possible. Unless Sigma knew something.

"The last arena like this was a maze and a scavenger hunt- but they didn't say anything about what it would take to win this. Have you heard anything?"

Another set of eyes and ears would make the pair all the more apt to find the scene erupting down the hall. As the two approach the volume will increase ever louder. Merging with the sound of the sinking ship's wails and dying creaks, are snarls, growls, hisses, all hinting on a readying roar. The noises are inhuman and angry.

The Initiate wields no weapons--though he most certainly has them, wrapped chains and rope and a dagger in his pocket-- but his fingers are spread with long readied claws. His teeth are bared and eyes orange around the indigo.

He circles Eponine like predator to prey. He doesn't seem to notice the sudden audience.

Eponine has a knife, which she is clutching, pointed at the Initiate. She pivots as he circles her, acutely aware of her position and her vulnerability against those claws of his.

"So you shall behead me as you did Ian, you wicked monster?" She shouts at the Initiate, though there is fear behind her cries.

"Well, I shall kill you before you can strike me!"

Sigma prepares himself to answer her in the negative, already shaking his head (he has heard nothing, but does suspect escaping the ship should be on their list of priorities), when he hears the commotion outside of the room. Leaping to attention, Sigma spins away from Sabriel and tenses anxiously, eavesdropping. He did not need long to place their voices.

"Wait. That's-"

With a gasp Sigma begins to rush back the way he came, climbing slippery steps against the oncoming trickle of water. The Arena nears its end; there is simply no time for a fight... "Sabriel! We must stop them-" Sigma begins breathlessly, approaching the top of the stairs. His districtmate has no reason or obligation to help him, let alone her enemies: painfully aware of this, Sigma still cannot help but try to appeal to his new partner. He has not turned to face her; he switches whom he is addressing abruptly. "If we do not, he'll kill her!- What are you doing?! Stop!" The 'father' bellows to the combatants helplessly, hopeful at least one of them would listen. How had a fight between his two children erupted in the first place?!

Edited 2014-08-20 23:58 (UTC)

"Stop it! The last arena like this had multiple winners! Preacher, there is no need for this!" Sabriel wishes she had her magic, and could simply immobilize the pair of them until they've calmed down. As is, she's stuck calling out to both of them as she splashes forward.

"We can get out of this Arena alive- all of us! We just need to cooperate!" Her voice is as authoritative as she can make it.

The moment Eponine's promised drops, the pupils of his eyes dilate in, turning near to slits but not quite. His hand reaches out, those claws going with it. He hears Sigma's call as his claws tear through-- not deep but enough. It's Sabriel's voice what sounds next after the blood's been drawn his claws are just barely red at the tips.

He snarls quick and jerks back. His eyes dart away from Eponine to Sigma, then Sabriel, his eyes still bright orange and his breath still heavy. Back to Eponine they go, teeth bared and still of a predatory crouch, but stepping back.

"Fine," He growls.

Eponine screams as the Initiate's claws rip through Dennett's dinner jacket, and scrape across the soft tissue of her stomach. Little bits of blood dribble down, and she bends, trying to both clutch the shallow wounds and hide herself from Sigma and Sabriel and from the Initiate all at the same time.

"He - it attacked me! It attacked me over nothing." Eponine shouted out as she locked eyes with the Initiate again. He might be stepping back, but she didn't trust him to pounce again. And she was fairly sure she was done for, surrounded as she was by Sigma and Sabriel as well. Apparently, he had chosen another daughter. Eponine disliked Sabriel straight away. She shook her head.

"I am not doing anything with him. He has not even apologised for executing Ian. I shan't do anything any of you say. He wants to kill me, you wish me dead, Mr. Sigma, and I do not know who you are, Miss, but I will say that you choose bad company. Now if you please, let me be." Eponine straightened, wincing with the pain, and made to barge away.

Cringing empathetically when Eponine is struck, Sigma braces himself for the killing blow - when the Initiate's claws draw backwards, colour returns Sigma's face. The Doctor practically gasps in relief, halting before the threshold of the room. He feels the sudden sting of his poorly healed stab wound when he stops so suddenly, and doubles over to clutch his side. Fortuitously, the black fabric of his colour-coded tuxedo would disguise the blood. Thank God for the Initiate; there would be no need to get between them any longer. Contrary to what Eponine had said, he would have begged on his hands and knees for her life.

The old man must first catch his breath. Overwhelmingly grateful for Sabriel's input, he has time to look to her with forlorn gratitude. It was unfortunate that such words had to be spoken to stop two children from killing eachother, but their combined pleas seemed to have had influence. If he could, he would thank her properly, later...

"He won't kill you, Eponine, I promise. Whatever this is about, it is over, now," Sigma answers at last, straightening up. He could count on the Initiate to obey him simply because their relationship would be damaged if he didn't. He extends an arm to the Initiate, less as an invitation to take it and more a gesture to draw him closer. "...Come here," he begs, a desperation in his eye. Would separating them be enough to defuse the situation? "Eponine, you can go. Leave." If the way out still existed...

"The preacher is decent enough," Sabriel said, "Although I can't speak for Mr. Klim. In any case- I don't know you, I bear none of you any ill will, and if you don't want to cooperate with us in winning together- then I'm content to leave you be."

Her tone wasn't as pleasant as she could make it. Still, this woman was a stranger, and Sabriel wasn't sure how trustworthy she was.

"As for who I am... I'm a necromancer, if that answers your question."

"YOU'RE GONE TO PAN CRACKS!" He snarls at Eponine. "Brother Sigma ain't want you dead! AND YOU EXPECT AN INITIATE TO TAKE TO YOUR BRANDISHING BLADE WITHOUT SUCH THREAT GONE RETURNED? Over nothing my glutes!"

He skips over the mention of Ian. No, he hasn't apologized for such things done in a death game. What point would that be? It would hardly bring the fucker back. It would assuage nothing.

But he sees Sigma's arm and he retreats as per Sigma's wish. Even if he turns his bitter glance downward to the ground. He knows that desperation for his own life for Sigma knows well he can fend for himself. He's fearing for Eponine and if she can't see such then Milenko steered be her.

He glances to Sabriel, noting with pride again how she calls him preacher. And with curiosity how she refers to herself not by name, but almost a title.

"No, that does not answer my question." Eponine snaps at Sabriel, shrugging Sigma's arm from her shoulder. It doesn't answer her question because she has no idea what 'necromancer' means, and it kind of makes her feel like this girl is deliberately poking fun of her and using language she doesn't understand to make Eponine feel stupid.

"Don't touch me, you traitor." She hisses at Sigma, almost immediately after snapping at Sabriel.

"Just... go. All of you. Leave me alone. I shan't be spoken to in such a way by a stupid gargoyle and I shan't be associated with Game Makers and murderers. So get out of here! NOW!"

Sigma shakes his head in frustration. "Eponine, there's no way out from here," he growls. He had come to the bow of the ship to search for a way up, but it seemed they would have to backtrack. "Sabriel has already inspected the theatre and we are at a dead end. We must all head back the way we came if we wish to escape. Listen: The three of us will stay here for a minute. We will give you a head start, and then we will try and escape, ourselves. Does that seem fair to you? ...Sabriel? Initiate?"

He guides the troll through the threshold of the theatre, leaving Eponine in the hall by herself. He looks to Sabriel and the Initiate with guilt, knowing how precious every second was as the Arena reached its end, but they were wasting more time standing here and fighting. He was very proud of the two of them for handing the situation as well as could be expected, and he made a mental note that his two allies seemed to get along. He holds his breath as he waits for their answers. Just one minute wouldn't kill them, surely?

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Mini Arena 2

Sorry for the delay!

No problem, I'm a bit behind too!

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woops sorry about that misfire

Re: woops sorry about that misfire

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