Dean John Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wheresthepie) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2013-01-14 10:40 am
wheresthepie) wrote in thearena2013-01-14 10:40 am
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Who| Dean and Open
What| Waking up and remembering the death roll
Where| a few KM away from the cornucopia
When| Morning After the Bloodbath
Warnings| n/a
Dean was still astonished that he'd been able to get past the bloodbath, without a scratch, and away from all the people, with a knife. Sure, wasn't his first weapon of choice, but hey, it was better than nothing. And after his encounter with someone who could rival Sam in stature, he certainly felt lucky to be alive.
Upon waking up the next morning, after watching the bloodbath for the second time, he checked himself and his surroundings, making sure he wasn't actually dead and didn't even make it past the first round of death, and not in his room. And all he found was that he was freezing, covered in snow, and that his heart was beating. Good, he thought to himself, he was alive, well, and, checking his pockets frantically, he still had his knife. Taking it out, he smiled at it: Short, but just like the one Ari had sent him in the last arena. It would work well enough for self defence, and he would be able to cut things up, and maybe even start a fire.
That was his first 'chore'. Fire. He needed something to keep himself warm. So, he looked around for a tree, or even rocks, sadly, there were only rocks, so he grabbed a bunch, then dug in the snow to start a fire. It was times like this he wished he had a fifth of whiskey, at least the alcohol would elevate his body temperature so he could focus on more important things.
What| Waking up and remembering the death roll
Where| a few KM away from the cornucopia
When| Morning After the Bloodbath
Warnings| n/a
Dean was still astonished that he'd been able to get past the bloodbath, without a scratch, and away from all the people, with a knife. Sure, wasn't his first weapon of choice, but hey, it was better than nothing. And after his encounter with someone who could rival Sam in stature, he certainly felt lucky to be alive.
Upon waking up the next morning, after watching the bloodbath for the second time, he checked himself and his surroundings, making sure he wasn't actually dead and didn't even make it past the first round of death, and not in his room. And all he found was that he was freezing, covered in snow, and that his heart was beating. Good, he thought to himself, he was alive, well, and, checking his pockets frantically, he still had his knife. Taking it out, he smiled at it: Short, but just like the one Ari had sent him in the last arena. It would work well enough for self defence, and he would be able to cut things up, and maybe even start a fire.
That was his first 'chore'. Fire. He needed something to keep himself warm. So, he looked around for a tree, or even rocks, sadly, there were only rocks, so he grabbed a bunch, then dug in the snow to start a fire. It was times like this he wished he had a fifth of whiskey, at least the alcohol would elevate his body temperature so he could focus on more important things.