thearena | Team...whatsit.

She hears the cannon.

She didn't see Garrus go down. She only saw Kaidan. So she leaps to the only possible conclusion, and she shrieks, in shock -- that he could be taken away so quickly -- in despair -- that she hasn't any chance at winning now -- and just in pain. Because she likes him. Liked. She'd decided to trust him. And now he's gone.

She struggles against Shepard's hold, perfunctorily, and then she collapses, crying, choppy sobs into her hands, breaking her breath into awkward, hiccup-y pieces.

Shepard doesn't know what to do with the hysteric girl past letting her slip away and sob. It's easy to do, since a nauseating pang of guilt and devastation and regret and loss slams into her so hard and so fast, its like she'd just been punched. Kaidan. She holds onto his name like a silent prayer. She staggers back, away from Amy a few steps; green eyes unfocused for only a moment as she tries to keep herself in control. Amy can break down like that. Shepard... can't. Not here.

Peripherally, she knew it had to come to this sometime. The hows and they whys were never certain, of course, but she'd been listening when the rules were explained. 24 went in. Only one of them was coming out. When Garrus and Kaidan came along, and then the girls... well, thinking about statistics like that had been sidelined. Priorities had shifted from being 'the one left standing,' to simply keeping everyone alive as long as possible. They had been better prepared for other tributes. They hadn't been prepared for the arena itself to turn on them, and quite frankly Shepard would rather take on the other tributes.

"Fine," she says almost dismissively. Amy's shaken and distraught and loud enough to be calling who knows what, straight for them, but she's not hurt. And Ariadne and Garrus are still nowhere in sight. Amy can have her grief, but Shepard would rather not hear a second cannon fire, if she can help it. That rock slide could have done a lot more damage than just Kaidan. "Just... Stay here. Don't move. I'm going to find the others and make sure no one else was in it's path." She turns to walk away, and then turns back around to reiterate. Because she doubts Amy's paying her all that much attention. "Stay. Here. I'll be right back."

Ariadne, in fact, is nearby, having all but frozen in place when she heard not only the rock slide, but the resulting cannon fire. She went in the opposite direction that day, staying near their shelter but intent on finding perhaps a small animal for them to eat. She has no luck, but she is out of range for the rock slide, at the very least. She doesn't know what happened, or who died, and she tentatively makes her way back towards their camp. It's not a far walk, an even shorter run, but she isn't sure of what happened and doesn't want to run headlong into a fight she isn't prepared for.

The first good thing in this whole mess that Shepard sees is the small dark-haired girl, Ariadne, looking unharmed. She's only a handful of yard away when she sees her, but Shepard takes those yards at a near-on sprint.

One down. One to go.

She can't let herself worry about Kaidan. If he's gone, there isn't anything she can do. And she wants to hate it. But she doesn't have time. Since joining Kaidan and Garrus and the girls, her mission has been to help keep everyone safe. The dead can be mourned after the dust settles, so to speak. She needs to focus on those still alive.

"Are you alright?" she asks once she gets within a distance that won't leave her shouting. The girl looks...maybe rattled and concerned, but she's not bleeding or broken anywhere, as far as Shepard can tell. "Have you seen Garrus?"

She's vaguely surprised to see Shepard racing at her, but she knows that the woman will probably know what's going on; her grip tightens slightly on her bag out of nerves. She heard the cannon.

"I'm all right," Ariadne replies, her voice staying relatively steady despite her shaken outward appearance. "I haven't seen anyone since this morning. What happened?"

She appreciates Ariadne's levelheadedness, or the appearance of it, more than she can say. "There was a landslide," she explains. The next words are hard though, and she "Kaidan. Amy saw him go. She's fine. But I didn't see what happened. I don't know --" there is a sickening feeling in her gut she still can't shake. She hasn't seen Garrus in a while. If he was nearby, why hadn't he come running just like she had? Why wasn't he here? "-- if anyone else has been hurt. There was only one cannon fire. But there's a lot of mountainside missing..."

She wouldn't have gotten far with her last job if she hadn't been levelheaded. She prides herself upon it, when she takes the time to think about it.

Ariadne listens to Shepard's debrief silently, managing to quell the tremble in her fingers. "We need to get somewhere safe. Away from the mountainside. Recollect ourselves and figure out what we're going to do. Where's Amy now?"

"I agree," Shepard tells her with a nod. "Amy's near the ledges; I told her to stay put. The rock slide took away half the damn mountain though, so be careful."

She pauses, deciding what she wants to do from here, and then, half a moment later, she shrugs off her own pack and holds it out for Ariadne. "If I asked you to go back to camp and gather what you can of the supplies?" It's not really a question. It's an order. But Ariadne could refuse her if she wanted, and Shepard wouldn't hold it against her. "I want to look around. Find Garrus. I'll meet you back at the campsite. Try and calm Amy down, if you can."

Ariadne nods simply, glancing to the pack briefly before taking it. It's no problem for her to take it, nor to get their supplies back together. "We should move the campsite somewhere else," she states. She thinks it might be a good idea, particularly since the rock slide would have alerted everyone around to their location. She's surprised they haven't been attacked yet.

"Yes. And soon. Too much noise and movement around here, we aren't safe. Half the arena has to know where we are now, and I'd rather not stick around to learn which of those would use that to their advantage."

She takes one deep breath and looks hard at Ariadne. The girl is little more than a stranger to her, but she has no desire for any harm to come to her. But Shepard thinks she's stronger than she looks, now that she's taking the time to actually see. "Get everything together. I'll find Garrus. I'll meet you back at the campsite in... 10 minutes?"

Not that they have any possible way to tell time out here, but it's will give them both a general sense of a time frame to work in.

"10 minutes," Ariadne agrees, hefting Shepard's pack onto her free shoulder, knowing full well that any longer might mean all of their deaths. Her heart is in her throat at the idea, but that doesn't get them anywhere; if she freaks out, she'll only slow everyone else down. At this point, it's best to just listen to orders and get out of there as soon as they can.

She swallows thickly and nods again, exhaling to calm herself before starting back towards the campsite to gather their things up. She has everything of hers already on her.

Ten minutes crawl by like hours, but still she finds she doesn't have enough time. Garrus. Garrus. Where are you, Garrus? She can't bring herself to shout his name too loudly, not with her heart in her throat. But she calls to him, still. Searches every nook and cranny she can think of that Garrus might have wandered off too. But time after time, she finds herself back at the path of the rock slide. Dust-heavy air and damaged earth make it almost unrecognizable. Its the scarred path of the mountain face and then the drop...

Without Amy or Ariadne right in front of her, its easier to allow her eyes to blur. She swallows back all the tears and fears threatening to crawl up her throat and escape in a scream. She has to find Garrus. Because she can't lose them both. Not when she just got them back.

Only one cannon fire, she has to remind herself. Only one. But neither Kaidan nor Garrus are anywhere to be seen. And ten minutes have come and gone and the longer she stands there looking out over the edge, helpless to do anything for whomever may have fallen from where she stands, the more vulnerable she leaves herself and the girls.

It isn't much. But she arranges a handful of broken sticks and small rocks into a message that reads simply "N7→", leaving the arrow pointing in the direction she plans to head. If by some chance whichever of the two remained alive -- she still thinks it's Garrus, but she is starting to wonder -- they'll know it's her and where to find her. And hopefully it will be vague enough for anyone else to just see as sticks.

She returns to the campsite in search of Amy and Ariadne, but the look on her face is easy to read. She didn't find what she was looking for, and the clock is ticking. Daylight is quick to fade around here, and this area is far from safe.

"We should go."

True to her word, Ariadne had quickly gathered all of their things, keeping everyone's stuff as separate as possible while still easy to carry. Her own bag is still holding up well; she's impressed with herself.

She doesn't say anything when Shepard returns; she doesn't need to. Now isn't the time to start asking questions and demanding answers, though. That can wait till they get somewhere safe, somewhere that isn't prone to rock slides. She nods instead, glancing in the direction she figures is safest, "That way?"

Shepard nods, briefly. Her breath short and her body aching, though she doesn't think it's solely from her day's earlier exertions. It's a bone deep pain that makes her feel hollow and like she's about to be sick. But she swallows it down, because she refuses to let a little thing like grief to slow her.

She shoulders the bag she'd given to Ariadne to pack with their supplies. It's heavier now, and the weight and movement of it is painful against her back, blooming black and blue bruises from Kaidan's little mishap with her only that morning. The scrapes and bruises are only painful, physical reminders of his absence, now. And the bittersweet hope that things had finally started to look better between them only for him to be snatched away.

She begins to move, allowing Ariadne to fall in step with her. She'll push them if she must, but for now, she'll let them keep their own pace. They seem like smart enough girls, and they certainly should know the danger they are in. It feels like running. No. It is running, and part of her hates it. But she can't take on an enemy she isn't prepared to fight, and so she moves, allowing herself one long last look behind her, hoping against all odds to see Garrus saunter over to them, grin and make one of his terrible jokes. But he isn't there and they have to go.

Ariadne watches Shepard closely, unsure of what to say or do beyond just keep moving. Unsure of whether or not the other woman is hurt too badly to keep moving at any kind of decent clip, unsure if she'll be able to keep them both safe if the need arises. She hopes it won't.

Her eyes dart around as they move through the Arena, her heart in her throat. Finally, she broaches the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue for a while: "Are you all right?"

Shepard makes a sound that is supposed to sound like a puff of a laugh, but there aren't many who could possibly miss the absence of humour there. "I'll be fine," she insists. And that is true enough. She will be. She's just going to be sore as all hell for a few days. But a little thing like pain isn't going to slow her down. "Just a few bumps and bruises," she insists.

They keep mostly under the cover of foliage; trees and brushes. Anything to keep them out of the sight of others. As they move, she watches and listens for the sign of others. Unfamiliar tributes or... a fallen ally. She finds nothing.

It takes a while for her to speak again. She doesn't want to make much noise. They've made more than enough all day, so the quieter they remain, the better she will feel. But maybe a little assurance will go a long way, and the last thing she needs is either of the girls to be worrying about her. "We should keep moving until nightfall," she insists, hoping Ariadne will take that as an assurance that she can.

And they do. Quiet, rushed, tired and hungry, Shepard carries on through the Arena until the shadows start to blur together and the night noises of the forest come alive. They only come to pause when the evening's 'ceremony' begins. An anthem none of them had ever heard before their coming here courses through the air, blaring like an unwelcome symphony.

Her heart is in her stomach and her eyes burn as the flickering image of not Kaidan, but Garrus is displayed in the night sky and she wants to scream. Wants to cry. Wants to collapse to her knees and punch holes in the hard ground, but she does none of those things. Only stands there and looks at the sky with an expression unreadable to most. Maybe its a selfish thing, but she doesn't want anyone... not Ariadne, not Amy, and certainly not the rest of this world to know just what Garrus had meant to her.

She doesn't want them to know anything.

She knows better than to push the topic when she has no proof that Shepard is anything worse than just the obvious scrapes and bruises she had mentioned. This isn't the same as with Cobb and Arthur and everyone else; these are people she doesn't know intimately. She hasn't been in their heads, she doesn't know what makes them tick from those minor details hidden in the dreamscapes. She only knows what she's shown, and that isn't enough to tell her otherwise.

Ariadne suspects, certainly, but that isn't the same thing.

She's fine with the silence, knowing that it's prudent to keep quiet lest someone trail them. They can hear people coming this way, rather than alerting the Arena to their presence. The Gamemakers will be watching them anyway, and maybe they'll be giving enough of a show to warrant some further care. When Shepard speaks next, she merely nods, taking just enough of a break to force herself onwards; if Shepard can do it in her state, Ariadne most certainly can.

She's unsure of how to feel when the anthem plays. When it's Garrus' face, not Kaidan's. She doesn't know either that well, but she does know Kaidan a bit better. She's almost grateful.

But all the same, she glances to Shepard, trying to read her. Impossible, of course, like trying to read a book in Braille without knowing it. Only her sharp inhale and her intense stare would suggest that she was concerned.

When she finally lets herself pause to rest, it's hard not to wince as she eases herself to the ground, leaning against the trunk of a fallen tree. Her back is black with bruises, she's certain, though she hasn't actually seen it for herself. And while it's a relief to have the weight of the pack off her shoulders for just a moment, the press of the tree bark is just a new and different discomfort. But her feet appreciate it; sore from the walking and the wet and the cold. They were fine enough shoes they'd strapped her into, but too new. Not enough time to get them to form to her feet like a second skin.

"Kaidan is still alive," Shepard finally breaks their silence with the unsaid but obvious statement, forcing herself to hold on to the one positive the universe will allow her. She wishes she knew what to do about it though. She wants to go searching for him. He's somewhere, alone and likely injured, and every instinct she has screams at her to not leave a fallen man behind. But there is the safety of the girls, and even herself to be concerned over, and they've traveled into unfamiliar territory and there are far too many unknowns, other tributes and Gamemaker traps alike. For the moment, she knows there is little that she can do right now, other than regroup and get her bearings.

Ariadne remains standing while Shepard rests; she wants to make sure that if they were followed, if there's any sort of threat, they can take care of it quickly. She hasn't lost her knife yet, and it remains well within her reach. She keeps an eye on their surroundings, watching everything as best she can before glancing back down to the other woman.

"He knows what he's doing," she states, hoping that she's right. "He'll find us again."

Shepard doesn't doubt Ariadne's words. She knows the girl would be right, if she could believe that Kaidan was actually in any sort of state to taking care of himself. At the very least, he had taken quite a tumble. Hell, even if he'd been armored, she'd be worried about serious damage. But Kaidan had been in wrapped up in the same boots and pants and jacket that they all were. But she smiles and nods anyway, appreciating the sentiment and without any energy or care left to voice her concerns.

"We should eat. Rest up for a little bit and move along." she says, even though she doesn't have an appetite to speak of and isn't sure she could sleep, even if she wanted to. But it's worth giving a shot.

Edited 2012-05-06 03:56 (UTC)

"You're right," she replies, voice dropping slightly, keeping quiet. She fishes through her bag, finding what little food she herself has been keeping and sharing with the others, offering it up to them as she joins Shepard in sitting. If they're resting proper, it's best to actually rest; she knows she can watch their perimetres even from sitting. "We still have time to find a new site before it gets too dark."

She forces herself to eat a few bites, making a mental note that there isn't much to go around. She also sips on some water. Nothing has any taste to it, but she can't recall if it ever did even before today.

For a moment, she shuts her eyes. Not to sleep, but in effort to quiet her racing, screaming mind. For days, things had felt like a hyper-realistic and often times slow-paced bad dream, but now things were encroaching into nightmare territory. She's faced worse and more traumatic things in her life already, but at least there had always been some sort of light at the end of the tunnel. Even situations where death seemed likely eminent, things has looked better. Because at least then, she would have been dying for a reason.

Here? Death was the only thing that awaited all but one of them. And even if she lived... what then?

Nothing. But what good would come from thoughts like that?

Nothing.

No, she needed to get her head back in straight. Find objectives. Safety. Shelter. Survive. So, she passes the remaining share of her food to the other girls and with slow, light movements, prods at the most tender spots on her back, just to make sure that their little journey down the mountain hadn't made anything worse.

"A few more minutes, and will you be ready to move again?"

For the duration of their rest, Ariadne's eyes are locked on Shepard. She's concerned, nervous; she knows, from past experience in the dreams, that when people are injured, you can never be sure what will happen. Though she trusts that Shepard will be all right, there's no saying what might happen from here on out.

She's not really quite so concerned about Amy; the other girl isn't much to worry about, if their conversations were ever anything to go off of.

Still, it's not nearly the same as the nervousness she felt around Cobb. This is a much more comfortable discomfort, though she's not sure how to word that without sounding insane. She's glad, though, that this isn't a dream, even though it would allow her to build beyond anyone's imaginations; she could outwit even the Gamemakers, if only they were all asleep.

It was wishful thinking, all in all, but Ariadne could still hope for it. She hadn't expected building to play such a part in her life, but Arthur was right all along - she had to come back.

Shepard's voice snap her back from her reverie, and her eyes come back into focus; she nods assent, finishing up the brief snack. She still isn't used to any of this. It's easier to take orders and figure it out, but she almost wishes she could just step back for ten minutes and figure out what was happening. Certainly, she has a mental map of the Arena, but it's rough; she doesn't know where anyone else is.

Ariadne pauses, letting out a soft exhale not unlike an exclamation or sorts before she begins clearing the area up, removing all traces of their having been there.

The break and the food had helped, and now the movement.... maybe she's just getting used to the pain, or maybe she's just hyper-aware of her Cerberus implants being put to good use, but either way it doesn't seem as bad as it had been just a short while ago. Or maybe it's all in her head. She's not sure it matters in the end, so long as she can keep herself going.

The encroaching darkness and steep terrain makes movement slow, but better slow and steady than standing still she believes. At least there is less and less snow as they continue on their way, and hey... no harm looking for something good about this hellish day, right?

Shepard grew up on a space station, and called an Alliance starship frigate home, so she was actually quite used to a steady, regulated 72 degrees. Training and exposure had given her the necessary experience she needed to know how to deal with it, but that didn't exactly translate into her having any sort of fond feelings toward the cold. Until now, her most recent memory of dealing with snow was back on Noveria. Back when she'd had both Kaidan and Garrus at her side. She thinks maybe it's best to move away from it as much as possible. Plus, snow is far easier to leave tracks in, and basically anyone with a set of working eyes can follow a trail in the snow. She'd rather not have that.

The area they are headed is...as familiar as anything else in this region of the Arena. Since the Cornucopia and before her meeting up with the girls and Kaidan and Garrus, she'd wandered much of the west, as far as she could go. It ended about a kilometer west of their position in nothingness; a cliff-side and an unfamiliar sort of energy barrier. It wasn't a mass effect field, so... well, at least it was something to rule out.

"I never asked..." Shepard breaks their silence, voice still quiet so as not to make too much noise. But with the darkness getting even blacker around them, she needs more than her eyes to make sure they're close by. "Where are you from?"

Ariadne certainly does prefer the lack of snow; while it doesn't necessarily bother her, it's just easier to move, to survive without it. It does keep people at bay, though - she's grateful for that. She thinks that - and the alliance - might be what are keeping her alive.

She doesn't mind soft-spoken conversation in the dark; her own nerves are starting to work as darkness falls, and the sound of everyone's voices nearby alleviates that a little bit. "Paris. I was studying architecture before all of this."

'All of this'. The vaguest way to include both Cobb's arrival into her life, and the Arena. Both could be considered along the same lines of life and death, though nothing Cobb put her up to ever involved killing other people. Watching them die, perhaps, but never killing them directly. Probably a good thing.

Team...whatsit.

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oh dear this is super delayed D: i should be better now though!

that's okay! it happens to everyone~

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oh, would you look at that!? another super-late tag.

I backtag into forever, anyway~

officially off my haitus now; have a small backtag novel!

yaaay, novels! \o/

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