thearena | what is this even

Entry tags:

what is this even

Who| Belle, Initiate, Bruce, Eridan. IT'S A BIG PARTY!
What| Reason why you don't give a gun to Disney princess; Belle accidentally shoots people, it'd be funny if it wasn't so sad. Then after that she and Initiate are attacked by Eridan.
Where| Around...?
When| Backdated like whoa: Late week two!
Warnings/Notes| Shooting, blood, sad faces, violence and deaths. Pretty basic arena stuff.

Prompts in the comments!

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Belle couldn't remember the last time she had felt this exhausted.

Ever since the beginning of the arena she hadn't been able to sleep more than an hour or two in a row (and even then it was very restless sleep, filled with nightmares about what happened at cornucopia). The sleeping bag that her 'kind' sponsors had sent to her brought very little comfort, in fact it was slowly becoming more like a burden-- an extra baggage that she needed to drag along with her. It was already tiring enough to carry it along with a back-bag (containing the other sponsor gifts, a small toy modeled after Beast, which she had found from her world's shop, and one copy of her biography) and the heavy gun she had apparently won from the scavenger hunt. However, what exhausted her the most was being constantly on alert, having to look over her shoulder after her each step and be cautious of tributes and all other dangers that the arena might hold.

But what really surprised her was to see just how taxing it was to stay locked up inside for so long time. There was no way out from the PaneMall and she hadn't found any windows yet, leaving her unable to tell the exact amount of days she had spend out there. The uncertainty made Belle feel very anxious and stressed in a way she had never experienced before-- if she could just to see what kind of weather it was outside. Was it cloudy, or perhaps rainy? Just knowing that would be enough reassure for her, that there was still world outside of this nightmare.

She was now slowly walking down the stairs from the third floor, away from the shop that mimicked her home, having the locker rooms as her goal. Maybe the sponsors had been 'generous' enough to grant her with another gift. The exhaustion made her breathing heavy and hands shake a little as she clutched on her gun.

She felt nauseous, tired, stressed and very scared. So, no one could really blame her when she spun around upon hearing sudden noise coming from behind her and accidentally pressing down the trigger-- shooting the person standing on top of the stairs.

Save for the cut off and shredded fins on his ears, which had well and scabbed over, and, well, being avoxed, he had managed thus far to be mostly unhurt. Just as he'd been commanded by all the different tributes what he's run into, he's mostly kept himself safe.

Even despite the explosions in the food court. His hearing is all well and back by now, but he's still not sure where Terezi is. He only hopes she ain't a smear of teal back there alongside the indigo of his other self.

He searches for her through the shops. He can't call out and he doesn't dare try to click again around here, not when as the last time he'd done so had nearly gotten him culled. So what sound is made has all to be from footsteps.

And then suddenly, there's a blinding pain in his leg. His whole world goes white and it stays that way well after he crashes forward and inevitable smashes down on the stairs. His body tumbles the rest of the way down, trailing indigo colored blood behind him, until he's at the bottom, too winded to gasp for air, though his mouth opens for it-- revealing his tonguelessness.

The whole of him hurts. It's a miracle his horns ain't broken and he'd be relieved for that if he could focus on anything beyond the sudden sharp pain in his leg. It ain't so much the hurt alone-- not when as he's had flesh shredded, bones broken, body stabbed countless times before-- as it is knowing immediately he is bleeding quite profusely, the cold of his blood very clearly there, and that's going to be a big mess what could bother tributes.

When he finally manages noise and breath it is a simple expulsion of air through teeth. Get up. Get up. They'll cull you for this, for the mess, for your weakness, get up.

As much it pained Belle to leave Initiate alone, especially since he was hurt, she knew very well that they needed to eat and drink if they wanted to survive through the upcoming day. They both suffered from a minor malnutrition already and the last thing she now wanted is to it to get worse. Sure, Initiate wasn't exactly dying but he's still hurt and he needed rest. Hurt because of Belle's stupid and careless actions. It wasn't right to ask him to come with her-- besides, he ought to be safe where they had camped over the night.

She was heading down towards the food court on the first floor, trying not to pay much attention to the mannequins as she passed them. Even though she only knew handful of them it was still very distressing seeing them resembling so many of her fellow tributes.

She didn't want to think about the actual meaning behind each doll, no. Instead she focused on her task: go down the stairs, find food and get back to Initiate-- and be swift about it.

The gun was still with her again, even though just the sight of it was enough to make her feel beyond repulsed. But really, what else she could do with it, other than drag it along? Sure, she probably should have left it with Initiate, who most likely knew how to actually use it properly, unlike she. But to be honest, now that she had seen just what one could do with it, the idea of abandoning it randomly somewhere made her rather uncomfortable. If she was going to leave it, it was going to be with someone who she knows and trusts enough.

However, luck seemed to be on her side (or so she thought) as she spotted a familiar looking figure near the food court.

"Bruce?" She called out hopefully.

Bruce immediately tensed when he heard his name, his hand going to his pocket as he turned to see who called out.

Oh. It was Belle. Normally, he would relax, but that was a very big gun she was carrying.

"Belle?" He eyed the gun warily. Someone had won the scavenger hunt. Did she even know how to use that?

She looked stricken. He didn't know what happened, but the best he could assume was that the games were getting to her. He supposed that it was better than being dead, though.

At first Belle thought there would be no end to her tears.

After witnessing Bruce's death (no, murder) she cried uncontrollably, until her eyes were red and swollen and throat sore and burning. However, the whirlpool of emotions did not calm down inside her as she could feel anger and guilt storming around her along with the sadness and grief.

It was all her fault. She had wanted-- tried to be careful but now her friend was dead. Because of her. It didn't matter now whether it was accident or not, the damage was already done and she had gone against her basic principle: do not harm anyone. That had been something she had decided on the day when she had been brought to Panem.

But now part of her innocence had died along with her friend. And for the first time ever in her life, Belle found a pure hate within her. Hate towards Panem and Gamemakers who had forced them to this. She would never forgive them.

Eventually, she managed to calm down and collect herself. After all, there was no time for her to stay still and panic. There was someone waiting for her return and she would never forgive herself if she was to let that person down, as well.

She arrived in silence to the place where she had left her mute friend to rest and wait. In order to hide the shock, she offered him a gentle smile-- both as an apology and reassurance; sorry for returning empty handed, no food, no water and no weapon. And don't worry the blood on her shirt wasn't her own.

It's not the fear what he knows so motherfucking well, what he can piece together and parse like it's being first language-- which, on some level, it is. Was. But there's still something about her expression what's off, a tightness to her smile. It's a curious note like perhaps a fear fulfilled. And of course, he notices the blood. He's a troll, blood ain't hardly surprising, but it does paint a number of pictures explaining.

It's not the first thing what to come to mind, what with it being a foreign thought. Rather, he wonders if a friend of hers got to dying on her first. Only then does the thought follow she might've gone for her first cull. Either way, it don't change nothing.

From where he rests on the floor, exactly where as she left him, he tilts his head at her. There's a frown on his features, one all being of concern, but he can only look at her for so many seconds at a time before conditioning bites and reminds him not to look at her. Then eventually he lifts his head again- and repeat.

He didn't truly expect her to return with anything. He almost wasn't sure she would return, though he'd not disobey and leave. He figures, naturally, she must want to move. And so he grits his teeth and starts to rise. He went an arena with a broken leg. It's just a bit of muscle and blood gone. He can manage.

So he tells himself as he winces.

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what is this even

locked to Initiate

Re: locked to Initiate

locked to Bruce (with Tony's cameo?) | the next morning

no subject

locked to Initiate + Eridan

Re: locked to Initiate + Eridan