honeyibrokeharlem: (pic#7960876)
Dr. Robert "Bruce" Banner ([personal profile] honeyibrokeharlem) wrote in [community profile] thearena2014-12-26 01:09 pm

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

WHO| The Hulk and YOU
WHAT| Bruce has lost his temper. Now there's a green monster running around.
WHEN| Late Christmas day
WHERE| Anywhere you want him
WARNINGS| Violence, death, and more violence

[OOC: If you want a Hulk encounter that doesn't end in death and haven't talked to me about it yet, just send me a quick PM to tell me you want your character to escape/hide/whatever when you tag. Otherwise, I'm assuming that most threads will end in death.]

A, only for people who've made OOC arrangements with me

He had tried to be as quiet about leaving his group as possible. Just a few muttered "I think I have to go now"s before wandering away and into the underground rooms. Normally he'd be worried about the aliens down there. One bit him. It died from radiation poisoning, but not before writhing and screaming on the ground. Its acid ate through his skin, but then what was left bubbled and knit itself together until the only evidence of any wound is the toxic blood on his clothes. The other aliens have been leaving him alone since then.

He sits in the dark, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his forehead on his knees. Heavy breathing. Sweating. Groaning in pain while the roaring in his head begins to overtake everything, and even now he struggles, even though he knows he's just prolonging the agony and avoiding the inevitable. He has to prove he can still struggle. He has to prove that this doesn't command him.

Even if it does.

B, OTA!

An ominous roar shakes the station from deep in its bowels. Then a green fist punches through the floor before a massive green beast climbs through the hole, its lips curled back in a furious scowl.

Everything. Everything around him will hurt him. He must destroy it all.

He starts at a full-on gallop on all fours, tearing through walls and doors like they're nothing, ready to kill.
silberfuchs: (battlefield)

[personal profile] silberfuchs 2015-01-02 06:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Generally one doesn't want to run towards loud crashing, snarling, and gunfire noises but after two losses he should have been able to stop, Albert both has nothing to lose and a goal in mind. He recognizes the sound of Bucky's specific running gait with his enhanced hearing, even under the sounds of whatever beast is tailing the other cyborg, and the German wastes no time in making for the scene.

"Buc-" The syllable barely gets past his lips and the rest of the name is cut as the assassin goes careening past him, followed by a veritable force of nature. Albert's never read any of Jet's comics starring the Hulk, but the name comes to mind regardless simply by pure gargantuan stature. And it's fast. He doesn't have time to sort the situation properly, instead acting on protective instinct and raising his right arm to aim at the charging beast and firing a burst of appropriated bullets at its green hide, hoping at the very, very least to get its attention.
tookthewheel: (pic#7955693)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2015-01-09 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Bucky's gone. He did not see or hear Albert's call, too hellbent on making his own escape and preserving his life for another day in the arena.

He runs, keeps running even when he hears gunfire and the sound of the Hulk's anger drawing in another direction. He runs until he's surrounded by silence and certain he is safe before he lets himself collapse down into an exhausted heap to recuperate. One encounter with the Hulk is enough for a lifetime.
silberfuchs: (light 'em up)

[personal profile] silberfuchs 2015-01-13 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)
His fellow cyborg may not have heard him, but the attention of the beast is certainly grabbed, and Albert's no fool. As soon as he sees a hint of those teeth - at least one as big as his palm - he does a quick about-face and goes striding down the corridor at top speed, metal feet hitting the floor so hard in his haste that they leave small variations in the floor of his wake.

His mind races as he runs, heading through areas that he knows, quickly computing the likelihood of losing the behemoth versus defeating it. Outrunning it at length means there's more of a chance to run across others and that's not acceptable so a long chase is out, moreover because it's gaining fast. So that leaves fighting, but his ammunition is severely limited and the bullets did little but bounce off putting a 'last stand' out of the question. He would die and the monster would still be around to kill others. Which leaves...

Albert darts suddenly to his right, seemingly without looking, and down a darkened hallway towards the outer ring of the space station. He doesn't need to see if the Hulk is still behind him, he can feel the rumbles in the deck plating with each heavy stomp.
silberfuchs: (embarrassed concentration)

[personal profile] silberfuchs 2015-01-26 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
If they pass anyone, Albert isn't aware of it, running like an Olympian towards the outer bulkheads, towards an airlock, and most importantly away from the rest of the station and the rest of the Tributes. He's not sure he can get out of this, and he's not sure if he minds so much with Jet being dead already, but if it means someone who actually deserves to get out of this nightmare has a better chance of winning through his keeping this latest monstrosity of the Gamemakers' creation from a murder spree, then his death will at least have some kind of meaning.

He rounds another corner and sees his goal at the end of the hall, and the big red button that operates it.
silberfuchs: (headache)

[personal profile] silberfuchs 2015-02-10 02:37 am (UTC)(link)
He's inches from the button, he could taste it, but suddenly the world keens and there's a sharp pain across his back and legs. Alarms go off in his sight, red blips on his internal HUD proclaiming several breaks and crushed parts and it's enough to unrattle Albert's head to realize that he's been caught, pinned, all too far from his goal. So he does the only thing he can in this case.

He tries to turn and face death head on.

It's less difficult than it should be to twist 'round in the beast's grip. He must have cut something vital enough that the pain sensors screaming at him through his visuals about everything else cut off the actual sensation from his waist down. Still, the realization is met through a momentary haze as his spine bends over massive fingers, only affording Albert a look over his shoulder.

Even then, he sees something. Something familiar in the beast's face. It's the eyes, he thinks. Maybe the general structure of the Hulk's face, but it's someone he knows. Someone he considers a friend.

His voice comes out as a raspy choke, in organic fluids bubbling inside where they ought not from ruptured hydraulic lines and propellant tubes. Still it's audible in the silence that reigns after the Hulk had smashed him into the metal-plated flooring.

"Bruce...?"