dieinpajamas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dieinpajamas) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2012-11-28 07:39 pm
dieinpajamas) wrote in thearena2012-11-28 07:39 pm
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WHO| Alpha, Grey, CLOSED
WHAT| Alpha's gotta die
WHEN| Midway through fourth week.
WHERE| In the trees, fairly near the ruins.
WARNING/NOTES| Rambling/Glitching, death, sadism (I dunno if this'll come up but it's Alpha so...), radiation sickness, inaccurate television-based portrayal of something like multiple personalities.
Alpha was not happy.
I'm pretty happy
All that research, planning, starting out with a bag and a weapon (a spear that by this point had seen more use as a walking stick), the fact that was Alpha all completely pointless in the end. He'd wasted the first few days setting up a home base.
You mean lair, right?
He twitched at that, the word choice reminding him of yet another failure and that just led to a feeling of glee from the newest, most hated voice in his head. That the voice stayed in his head and hadn't yet managed to take over his vocal cords despite Alpha's current state spoke more to experience at this point than skill.
Before he had a chance to actually get out and accomplish anything, he found himself feeling...sick. Exposure, he'd assumed at first, just a slight hindrance if that, but it quickly grew worse and, well. He knew radiation sickness when he saw it. Felt it.
"It's the government, always the government, they've never treated the people as more than guinea pigs anyway, any government, this one's just more honest about it."
"Oh shut it it always a conspiracy theory isn't it--"
"You don't think this screams conspiracy theory?"
"I wish she was here."
"What conspiracy, everybody knows they make people kill each other, it's all televised, they don't need to conspire, nobody cares!"
"I'm glad she's not here."
"That's enough," said Alpha suddenly, and it was definitely Alpha, the cumulative of all of him. Everything he'd let slip out loud had been in soft, barely audible mutter. He was alone, sure, but that was no reason to be stupid and draw people in, even if he was relatively sure he could still put up a decent fight.
Not that he was looking for trouble. For now, unhappy or not, he was taking a break from his attempt to find food, sitting with his back against a tree, spear resting on his knees. The fish hooks were on hand as well, some vague hope of fishing his plan, but that relied on him actually reaching the ocean in the first place.
WHAT| Alpha's gotta die
WHEN| Midway through fourth week.
WHERE| In the trees, fairly near the ruins.
WARNING/NOTES| Rambling/Glitching, death, sadism (I dunno if this'll come up but it's Alpha so...), radiation sickness, inaccurate television-based portrayal of something like multiple personalities.
Alpha was not happy.
I'm pretty happy
All that research, planning, starting out with a bag and a weapon (a spear that by this point had seen more use as a walking stick), the fact that was Alpha all completely pointless in the end. He'd wasted the first few days setting up a home base.
You mean lair, right?
He twitched at that, the word choice reminding him of yet another failure and that just led to a feeling of glee from the newest, most hated voice in his head. That the voice stayed in his head and hadn't yet managed to take over his vocal cords despite Alpha's current state spoke more to experience at this point than skill.
Before he had a chance to actually get out and accomplish anything, he found himself feeling...sick. Exposure, he'd assumed at first, just a slight hindrance if that, but it quickly grew worse and, well. He knew radiation sickness when he saw it. Felt it.
"It's the government, always the government, they've never treated the people as more than guinea pigs anyway, any government, this one's just more honest about it."
"Oh shut it it always a conspiracy theory isn't it--"
"You don't think this screams conspiracy theory?"
"I wish she was here."
"What conspiracy, everybody knows they make people kill each other, it's all televised, they don't need to conspire, nobody cares!"
"I'm glad she's not here."
"That's enough," said Alpha suddenly, and it was definitely Alpha, the cumulative of all of him. Everything he'd let slip out loud had been in soft, barely audible mutter. He was alone, sure, but that was no reason to be stupid and draw people in, even if he was relatively sure he could still put up a decent fight.
Not that he was looking for trouble. For now, unhappy or not, he was taking a break from his attempt to find food, sitting with his back against a tree, spear resting on his knees. The fish hooks were on hand as well, some vague hope of fishing his plan, but that relied on him actually reaching the ocean in the first place.