thearena | [Closed] Oh death rock me asleep

Entry tags:

[Closed] Oh death rock me asleep

Who| Sif, Thane, Thor
What| Time for some people to die in a suitably dramatic fashion
Where| Somewhere on the third floor
When| Week 5
Warnings/Notes| Vomiting, murder, awkwardly timed love confessions

It doesn't take her very long to figure out that she shouldn't have drunk the water from one of the fountains, the violent vomiting up of (it feels like) everything she has ever eaten in her centuries long life being a quite excellent clue. The painful cramps are another hint, and she wishes a drawn-out and very painful death on whoever had gotten it in their sick head to poison the water. She assumes it must be their tormentors, wanting some more entertainment out of them.

It's difficult to move, but she does anyway, hoping to make it back to the Avengers store to curl up there until the cramps subside, hoping that Thor will turn up soon to stand guard over her until she has some better control of her body. She does not allow herself to think that perhaps whatever poison is affecting her now is actually a deadly one, she will find out soon enough in any case. It doesn't matter, what matters is that she must keep moving.

Her hearing is still somewhat damaged from the alarm incident, something she is keenly aware of now in her vulnerable state as she hobbles through the arena like an ancient old crone, bent over and hugging herself tightly as if he is trying to actually hold herself together. Will she hear an attacker coming? She isn't sure. Another thing she doesn't let herself think too hard about, all she can do is try to stay as alert as she can and hope that it is enough.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Contrary to Sif's belief, their tormentors had nothing to do with the poison in the water. Thane had been a witness to each and every step of the process. Unlike the others, he still could drink the water that was available, and it wouldn't affect him at all. Once everything went live, and people were being dosed, it was just a matter of time.

He had separated to carefully kill individuals that he found on his way. They all did. His movements were fast and quiet. He was careful, knowing that his condition for the fights could be better. It was just about two months ago that he was being tortured in prison, and now he was in here dealing with this.

He sees Sif stumbling around, and he steps back, watching her for a few moments. If he left her along, he was sure at some point she would die just from the water. Or he could end it now and not let it take hours - or days.

He steps in close to her, closing the distance with a sharp, handmade weapon, in his hand.

She isn't sure what it is that makes her turn, it certainly isn't that she has heard or seen anything, at least not on any conscious level.

It could perhaps be called instinct, centuries of fighting experience setting off jangling warning bells in her mind and forcing her to turn around and face an enemy she was not even aware of being there.

She sees Thane, and she knows that it is over because whoever it is that has come for her, they have not been poisoned. They can move.

Not that it prevents her from at least trying to defend herself. It is not in her nature to give up without a fight, and she will greet death with a roar and not a whimper.

"For Asgard!"

The words tear themselves out of her painfully constricted throat, though she does not even know how she managed to draw enough breath for it. The battle cry is a habit, a reflex, but it gives her some small measure of strength as she throws herself at her would-be murderer.

It's getting dangerous to be separated for even a second in the Arena, it seems, numbers are thinning quickly and there is great cause for concern. Thor was under the impression Sif would not be gone long, she'd mentioned a need to drink and nothing more and he'd been left with the gun.

Eventually he can't hold off any longer and he sets off to look for her, expecting the worst and finding it quickly. The Marvel store, aptly named, was still a place of hiding on occasion and it's the first place he heads to find the scene already hitting a crucial moment before her cry can even get his attention.

"NO." That's about as eloquent as it gets right now, Thor's expression is dark with anger and he aims the gun at the unobscured part of Thane, not allowing a chance for Sif to be caught in the fire. The recoil is strange to Thor, but he won't be stopped by it in his approach.

Thane saw the gun, and there was no fear there. He didn't seem to care if he is shot or killed. Clearly, he had no desire to actually win the arena. Right now, his goal was to thin out those who were inside it. He was here to follow the plans set forth by Shepard and Mordin.

"Yes," he says. His voice is low and raspy. Each movement towards Sif is without any fear. Thor is a distraction, and one he can deal with after he's done what he needed to do. A man his size wouldn't be taken down quite so easily by his venom. He seemed pretty coherent.

He steps to the right, towards Sif, and continues towards her. His actions are face and graceful. He wants to make this death fast, but it might not be possible now with the interruption.

Sif readies herself for battle as best as she can, but her limbs are still not cooperating and it all ends up being a twisted mockery of what a proper fighting stance is supposed to be.

She hears Thor roar, and it brings a twitching smile to her lips as she looks upon Thane.

"He'll kill you."

Thane's determination to kill Sif is strange to Thor. He's too used to people quaking in fear when he yells, and he's certainly not used to being ignored when he makes a violent approach. He doesn't know what motivates Thane to pursue her, but he cannot allow it to happen.

"I will." He confirms darkly, brows furrowed and eyes frantic as he fires the gun several times at the alien. It's a strange weight in his hands and he doesn't much like it. He wants his hammer. The urge to throw the damn weapon at Thane's head is high, but instead he'll try to throw himself at him and knock him aside. Thane is already too close to Sif, Thor isn't as fast as a man smaller than him would be.

But he will not give her up without a fight.

"And?" Thane said simply. Even as he felt as bullets stuck his arm, then chest. But didn't seem to hesitate or slow down - he'd stop only once he knew he had successfully done what he had come there to do. Thane was used to bullets coming at him, and he didn't value his own life right now. He was a tool - a weapon, and that was the extent of what he was at the moment. Lost in the experience, still distance because he had been trying to escape what had happened before the arena. It was the only way. Battlesleep was how he handled the arena.

He's close enough, at least, he swings his knife towards her chest. As long as he hits somewhere fatal, then she'll at least bleed out quickly. It wasn't as fast as planned, but faster.

"I had hoped to make it fast." That opportunity seemed gone.

The thought is appreciated.

She means to make that remark, a last spurt of dry humor, but the truth is that she is far too preoccupied with falling to the floor and writing in pain as the knife slides back out of her chest and she realizes that there is no way that she is surviving this.

It doesn't even hurt much, not compared to the cramps brought on by the poison. Some part of her even thinks it will be a relief to just bleed out and have it over and done with.

The response vexes him. Thane vexes him. He can barely believe it when he kills Sif right before his very eyes. The light from her eyes isn't gone, but she won't survive and he knows it.

Anger courses through him. Hot rage very nearly causes him to tremble as he sputters, at a loss for words beyond the "NO" that he yells once more. He wants to beat Thane to a pulp for what he's done, he wants to be so cruel about it. But he can't bring himself to. For all the rage he feels for Sif, he won't give the Capitol the satisfaction of seeing him undone.

He steels himself, drawing in a breath as he straightens and pumps more bullets at Thane. Now that he's less frantic, his aim is true. He's quite certain he has killed Thane, so he approaches with no caution and wrenches the alien to the side away from Sif.

Thane has felt death before in the arenas. This one wasn't quite as painful once he had actually allowed for it to happen. It was exciting enough too, he believed. The markings on his face meant he wasn't in the Capitol's good graces, but perhaps his behavior this arena would help. He'd prefer to, at the very least, stay out of their problems.

They were hardly his own, and he knew his own trouble would mean that Kolyat's own life could be at risk, too.

Things start to fade as he dies, keeping his eyes on Thor and Sif. She would die. And it would be much better than the overdose of his venom.

This is a better death, Sif would agree to that much as she does not want to face the end just yet.

Her heart is gripped with terrible uncertainty, partly because the simple fact that she is about to die and she still feels as if there is so much left to do, but also party because her mind is in fact somewhat addled by the venom coursing through her veins. It is much harder than it might have otherwise been to clear her mind, to calm herself and accept the end with the dignity that she would perhaps have liked.

For some reason looking upon Thor's grief-stricken face makes her fixate on the fact that she will die, and he will never know how she feels about him. The thought that she will be revived is far from her mind in this moment, all there is room for is the big what if. What if this is the true end, what if this is her last chance of ever speaking out?

"Thor... Thor, there is something I need you to know before I..."

Damn, but speaking is hard.

And so Thane dies without Thor ever having understood his intentions. He's bitterly angry at him, but not enough to do more than leave him to his death. His attention is on Sif as he sets the gun down and kneels beside her. He wastes no time pulling her up into his arms with all the gentleness a Thunder God can afford, brushing her hair back from her face as he holds her.

"Keep your eyes on mine, Sif." He urges, though he knows she's long past the point of any sort of recovery. He can't bring himself to admit that, admit that he failed his truest and best friend in this miserable place. She'll come back, he's sure of it, but he's not sure he wants her to. He doesn't want her to die forever, but having her hear is sentencing her to death ten-fold.

He silences himself when she speaks, grazing the back of his hand over her face in a calming manner. "You will return." He says with conviction, though he doesn't sound happy about it. "I am listening."

"In case I... don't."

She swallows, feeling as if her tongue is twice as large as it ought to be, a sluggish and clumsy thing.

"I want... want you to know."

She can feel herself fading, but she clings to what life remains in her, all she needs is to last long enough to get her words out.

"I love you. Not.. as a friend. Like Jane. Like you love... her."

There is so much more that she wants to say, she wants to tell him that she knows that he does not feel that same. That it is alright. That all she wants is for him to be happy. All the things she has never said to him, they are all crowding on her clumsy and useless tongue now, screaming to be uttered, but she no longer has the strength.

The most important thing has been said, at least. She will have to be content with that.

"You will." He says firmly, before she can find the strength to continue. His voice quivers in sadness, but there's no lack of faith or conviction in his voice. "You will return, Sif."

He keeps his eye contact steady, but he falls silent when it is certain she has something more to say. It's as if someone just hit the restart button on his brain, and it's clear in the way his eyes dull and light up in surprise. It's hard to restrain his expression as he finds himself at a loss for words. It cannot be true, she cannot mean it- but she would not lie at such a moment. He knows he doesn't have much time, she's fading fast and he doesn't want her last moments to be him scrambling in disbelief.

"Sif.." It's hard to imagine what else he could say, he brushes a stray hair from her face gently, keeping his eyes on her at all times even as the urge to yell in protest boils in him. "I didn't know." He adds faintly, and he wonders why he needed to say that.

His hand continues to brush her cheek comfortingly and he hushes both her and himself, taking comfort in trying to ease her. "We will meet again soon." He assures, for lack of anything better to say.

"I know you... didn't."

The words escape her with a faint sigh, and a corner of her mouth quirks up in a smile that is barely there and yet somehow manages to be immeasurably tender.

She wants to say more, wants to tell him that it's alright, that he didn't know because she didn't let him know, but there is no strenth left in her.

And so the good lady Sif dies, in the arms of the man she loves in a manner most suitable to such dramatic individuals, though in such moments who really cares what is suitable or not?

Sif most certainly doesn't. She won't be caring about much of anything for a little while, until she is resurrected again and Thor's words prove to be true. They will see one another again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Closed] Oh death rock me asleep

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject