thearena | The thunder plays its drum

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The thunder plays its drum

WHO| Bruce Banner and YOU
WHAT| Bruce is going trapping. Who knows who he'll meet around the arena?
WHEN| Backdated to the first week
WHERE| The woods, the river, the pond, anywhere with game.
WARNINGS| Death of animals, some description of butchering/tanning hide. Possible violence depending on whether someone confronts him or not.

A
Little traps made of berries, reeds, branches, animal sinew--really, any sort of resource they can find around the arena--are scattered around the arena. A ragged man bundled in a parka and carrying a long stick with a sharpened animal bone at the end walks to each trap, his footsteps unusually quiet for his size, and he always cautiously looks around before bending down and checking the traps for animals. When he finds them, their deaths are usually swift and merciful. Quick strikes to the head to minimize bleeding, and he ties their legs together with treated sinew taken from previous victims so he can more effectively carry them over his shoulder.

B
After he's checked most of his traps, he sits by the river and butchers some of the meat. Blood runs into the river, minimizing the mess that might lead others to his base. He uses every piece of the animals--tendons, sinew, bone, meat... even the organs have their uses. He puts things like stomachs and bladders and brains aside for more treatment. They'll be useful for waterskins and tanning the hides, which he also works on fleshing and cleaning. He uses sharpened bones for all the cutting--soon, he'll make a proper knife out of bone.

But he still has his spear right next to him, just in case someone decides to try grabbing some of his work without his permission.

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She'd come across the first trap entirely by accident. Stalking through the woods was quickly becoming her new avenue for frustration, channeling her anger into the useful tasks of scouting the lay of the land in addition to searching for food and resources. She has nearly crushed the small pile of berries underfoot before she noticed it, then had taken another moment of examination to realize its purpose. So there were other tributes nearby. Unsurprising, but enough to put her on edge.

So she had spent the rest of the afternoon keeping an eye out for the traps and trying to find their maker. She had no interest in being driven to murder for the entertainment of the masses, but if the individual setting these was inclined to participating in the blood sport she didn't want them within a mile of their camp. The last one she had found had given her hope, dots of fresh blood against a tree trunk. The hunter was likely nearby.

The hunter was, in fact, at the river, and there was blood in the water. The moment he heard the sound of feet on the ground, he picked up his spear and turned casually from his work. He wasn't making any overtly aggressive gestures with the spear, but he didn't quite relax when he recognized Cassandra.

"Hey, Cassandra." He liked using people's names. It reminded them of themselves, and of the reasons that they had to not play the game. He hoped that he didn't need to remind his district mate of anything, but it didn't hurt to be safe. "I'm glad to see you survived the Cornucopia."

"And you, Banner."

He gets a slight frown at the casual use of her name- but she had managed to gain some insight in this land, that such forms of address were not uncommon past a certain age. Not a habit she would be picking up any time soon, but not something meant as a direct insult or form of mockery.

She slowed her approach some dozen feet away. Nothing she had observed of the man in the training facility hinted at one ready for blood and battle for the sport of it, but one never knew. Desperate times had ways of changing men. So her hands were kept carefully in his view, underscoring her own lack of aggression.

"The arena has not failed to live up to reputation, thus far. But I outgrew pointless battles years ago."

Sometimes he would call men by their last names, but women, he usually used the first. There was once a time when titles mattered to him, but not anymore.

He relaxed when she clearly approached him non-aggressively. Bared hands and a verbal confirmation made him put the spear down. It was still right at his side, but he had a feeling she was telling the truth. "I've outgrown them too." He gestures towards a rock mostly clean of any blood. "Take a seat. The view here is beautiful, if you forget it's all fake."

It was Gary's intent to try grabbing some of Bruce's work without his permission, when he first saw him settling down by the river to prepare it. The guy clearly has enough that he won't miss any, Gary thinks. But even the impulsive teen has enough sense of mind not to go running in while Bruce is still there, doing his cleaning; besides lacking the confidence brought by his abilities, the man looks like someone Gary imagines finding out in the wilderness to avoid paying his taxes, and over the years has forgotten what it's like to see another human being, making neat little piles out of entrails and cutting things open with their own bones. Gary doesn't want anything to do with that.

So he waits. Quietly, behind a tree a little ways from the shore, just waiting for his chance to rush in there and grab something. But Bruce is diligent and Gary is very impatient. He lasts maybe ten minutes before his stomach starts complaining and the cold seeps into his legs, and that's more than enough to convince him to try something else. With a soft huff, Gary rises and shuffles to the riverbank.

"Hey! Uh." Gary looks reasonably uncertain about all of this. Please don't be crazy, he thinks. "You gonna eat all of that?"

Bruce arches an eyebrow when he looks at the kid, instinctively picking up the spear next to him. He doesn't point it at the newcomer or give any other sign of aggression, but it's there just in case the boy tries anything.

"I wouldn't be going through all the trouble of butchering these if I didn't plan on eating them." Or feeding them to his group. He looks the newcomer up and down critically, evaluating his lack of stealth, his impatience, and his lack of tact. He doesn't seem like someone who's going to last long in this arena. "And you're too old for me to give you a freebie." Bruce could have been convinced if Gary were maybe four or more years younger, but as it stands, he looks like he's on the cusp of adulthood.

He still considers the boy. He looks about the age of some of Bruce's old students from his teaching days. "But I have a lot of work to do here. I might be persuaded to part with a squirrel or two if you help. Empty your pockets and show me your hands."

Bruce instinctively grabs the spear and Gary instinctively takes a faltering step back. Gary doesn't know this guy, he doesn't know if he's grabbing it to feel safe or to bluff or to throw it across the damn shore, but in any case, if he needs to run, he'd like a good head-start. His eyes flicker over his shoulders to make sure the way is clear while Bruce lectures him.

As is his way, Gary misses most of the speech and only catches what he wants to hear, that being, he has a chance. His shoulders slump in relief. "Help? Yeah, sure thing boss, I can help," Gary parrots back. There's a pause before he realizes that he needs to empty his pockets. Right, yes, he should do that. Gary quickly turns out the pockets of his pants and parka, producing at his feet a pile of berries, the corpse of a package of matches, some wrappers from sponsor food drops, a half-full water bottle, a small canister of bug spray, and what appear to be stray fish bones. His backpack full of larger, more useful items is back at camp with the rest of District 11, which Gary is both thankful for and regretful of, since he can't sell off one of his many blankets. Then his hands are up and out, gloved but otherwise empty.

"A squirrel, huh?" Gary chews on his lower lip. He's not exactly in a position to barter, but that doesn't stop him from trying. "I'm a growing guy, you know? A squirrel hardly covers what I'd burn skinning one of those things."

Bruce watches the pockets empty and relaxes somewhat when he sees that the young man isn't carrying any weapons, but he does shoot him a sharp look at the bartering. "And you should be a little more grateful that I'm even offering instead of attacking you for trying to get food my group and I need. What exactly did you expect by approaching a stranger in the middle of the games to ask for food?"

Bruce isn't really the type to threaten when he can avoid it, but it feels more like this kid needs to learn a lesson about how things work in the murder arena. You can't just beg strangers for supplies and hope that works. Bruce is even offering to show him how to properly butcher and use animals, but the kid is just concerned about pushing his luck.

Well, it was worth a shot. Gary immediately backs off with a nervous chuckle and a raise of his hands, palms forward. "Hey, I'm grateful, I'm grateful," he insists, shifting anxiously on his feet. There's still time to run if he has to. It'll be annoying if he loses that water bottle and bug repellant, but he can make do without. "Look--I'm not gonna stab you and I've offered to help. That's...good, right? We're still cool?"

Bruce arches an eyebrow. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have attacked by now."

He relaxes, however, satisfied that he cowed the boy enough to show him that things like that could possibly get him in trouble. "Go ahead and sit down. I'll show you what I need you to do."

"...Right." Gary lowers his hands and relaxes in turn, slightly, but mostly just looks confused. If this guy's not on the verge of killing him, then why's he being such a hardass about it? Must be grumpy about something else, Gary thinks. Crotchety old man. With a small huff, one last sign of petulant defiance, he jogs over where directed and slumps onto the riverbank.

"Ready when you are, buddy," he chirps, putting on a toothy grin. "Guess we're gonna be here a while. What's your name?"

Explaining it would apparently be more trouble than it's worth. Bruce relaxes and shows the boy a whole squirrel, before saying, in a voice more gentle than before (the voice of a teacher instead of a competitor), "Pay attention and I'll show you how this works."

As he begins to butcher the animal--and he goes through everything, from skinning to taking out the bones to putting the brains aside with the hide and chopping the meat properly, he says, "My name is Bruce. What's yours?"

Gary's mind wanders at first, almost determined to not pay attention, but that stops soon after they get to the real meat of the matter. It's like biology class, with the frog, only...somehow even more fascinating in an unsettling, visceral sort of way. Maybe because school emphasized precision, and precision was so horrifically boring. This is far more interesting.

"Gary," he says, absently, while he slowly leans in to get a closer look. Gary's nose crinkles. "Where the hell did you learn how to do this? Cub scouts?"

"No, experience. And some good teachers."

He carefully lays out a neatly skinned hide on the rock, letting blood drain into the river as he begins to cut the meat and neatly pull out the bones and tendons and sinew to dry in the sun. "Back home, I've been wandering around for a while. People taught me how to do things like this in exchange for medical or mechanical expertise."

Gary continues watching in disgusted fascination, nodding along, until at some point he actually stops to think about what Bruce just said and it doesn't quite click. He pulls a baffled, somewhat amused face.

"So you offered to fix some guy's TV and in exchange he taught you how to flay tiny animals?"

"Well, the people who taught me this kind of thing didn't usually have TVs, but yes, basically." He finishes up the animal, leaving all its organs in a neat little pile next to the hide and bones and meat and sinew, before offering Gary a little knife made out of bone.

"Now your turn. Just take one of the animals and try to do what I did."

"Point." Gary warily eyes the makeshift knife, then his squirrel, then the knife again, before he finally plucks it out of Bruce's hand. He stares at the squirrel for a bit longer after that. He's in no rush to start cutting things open. Just gonna take his time here, and maybe distract Bruce with more idle conversation in the meanwhile. "Someone's ham radio and apocalypse shelter, then. Helluva trade."

Clementine comes across Bruce when he's carrying his catch through the woods. At this point she doesn't have much, just the clothes they put her in and the torch she traded her spear to Initiate for. For a weapon she's grabbed the heftiest stick that she can easily carry, which hopefully be enough until the first wave of sponsor gifts come in.

"How'd you catch all those?" is what she says first, in awe of Bruce's apparent hunting skills. She and her friends wouldn't be doing so well if it weren't for her trade with Initiate also including him giving her part of his catch each week. They'd scavenged some berries which weren't too bad but were reluctant to try too many in case they were poison.

"I mean, hi Bruce."

"Hi, Clem."

He looks down to smile at her, before lightly brushing one hand on her shoulder. He is still very restrained about touching, but sometimes, he just likes knowing she's safe. "I caught them in traps. If you keep walking with me, I'll show you how to set one up. I could show you how to properly butcher an animal too, if you want."

Once a teacher, always a teacher.

She reaches up, her hand touching his forearm a second before his hand withdraws. Clementine smiles, she's starting to think there isn't much that Bruce doesn't know, in every situation they've been in together so far he always seems to know what to do.

"That'd be great, thanks. So far we've only been able to find a few plants to eat." she tells him, moving to walk at his side. "And my friend Initiate leaves me some of what he catches."

Bruce is very resourceful. The chances are that in most situations, he can at least hazard a guess of what to do and go from there competently.

"It's good that your friend helps you out, but it's always best if you know what to do yourself." They come across a trap with a squirrel attempting to chew its way out. Bruce looks to Clementine. "How do you feel about killing animals?" Hopefully she could handle it. She would need to kill animals to eat them. If she wasn't comfortable with it, though, he could kill the squirrel himself.

"I know. I tried to throwing rocks at the geese, but they just took off." or got really mad, then she had to run with Nick being chased by an angry goose. That was something which would probably end up on some embarrassing reel in the Capitol.

Clementine stops when they come across the squirrel. For a moment she watches it struggle against the trap and... she feels bad for it, she does, but at the same time she's hungry. That's not something she feels bad about enough to refuse over, "I can do it." she looks up at Bruce, "I've done it before."

"Those geese are vicious. Next time they might try to bite you." But he still has a little twitch at the corners of his mouth, because it's just amusing to imagine Clementine throwing rocks at angry birds. He crouches down next to the trap, offering his spear to Clementine. "This is a little big for you, but you only need to use the butt of it right now. I suggest you find a weapon more suited for your size soon."

He points at the squirrel, still struggling to bite through the trap. "You want to kill it as quickly as possible. It's humane, and that way it's mostly undamaged so you can harvest the most usable material from it possible. Hitting the base of the neck as hard as you can is most effective, but if you can't get that kind of precision, hitting the back of its head with the same force can also work."

"Yeah, we found that out. One chased us all the way to the tree's." It had been funny in hindsight, except they were still hungry afterwards.

It probably shouldn't be mentioned she had a spear at the beginning of all this but then after what she used it for... a queasy feeling rose in her stomach for a moment, she'd been happy to trade it away, besides it being too big. Later she'd felt guilty, knowing she could have given it to Nick or Luke or someone but the torch and food hadn't been a bad trade.

"Okay." she takes the spear, holding it as securely as she could and approached the squirrel. Looking at it struggle made her feel bad for it, until she told herself the Capitol put it there and probably created it and, when the arena ended, it wasn't like the Capitol would rescue all the animals before they destroyed it. This way it helps her and her friends survive.

Clementine lifts the spear up, making herself look so she won't miss and brings the spear down on the squirrel's head as hard as she can.

Bruce lets out an amused huff at the mental image of Clementine needing to run into the trees because of an angry goose.

The force of her blow crushes the squirrel's head, almost flattening it, and it goes still in the cage.

"There you go." Bruce holds his hand out for the spear again while he undoes the trap. "As you get better at it, you'll be able to kill them without actually breaking in their heads. The brains are really useful for tanning the hide."

He pulls out the squirrel by the tail. "Now watch closely while I reset it. I'm going to do it, then at the next trap we get to, I want you to reset it."

"For a second there I thought you were going to say the brains were good for eating." she says with a small smile, handing the spear back over to Bruce at once. "That'd be a little too gross."

She can't be blamed for having a leaning towards bashing in brains, even if it's not usually directed at animals.

"I'm watching." Clementine promises, leaning down to see better. "Kay."

"Depends on the animal. Usually, I find brains are better for hides than food." Hides last longer than food, anyway.

He resets it slowly so she gets a good idea of how it works, then baits it with some berries. "Let's get to the next trap. It should be my last one. I can show you how to properly use the animals if you stay around after that."

"How do you use brains on hides?" Clementine replies in confusion, not seeing the immediate connection between the two. All she can picture is rubbing a brain on a piece of fur, which seems a way to make it smell more than anything else.

She leans over to watch him reset the trap, wishing she'd known how to do this back in her own world. There weren't so many animals left there and those that were left were the kinds that burrowed or climbed, or flew, the kinds that could escape the walkers. Sometimes she still saw deer and even a cat, but most big land animals were gone around the farmland she and her groups had walked through.

"I can stay longer." she thinks she has another hour or two before Luke and Nick will start to worry.

"After skinning, fleshing, and softening a hide, you want to rub any part without hair on it with a water and brain solution. It makes the leather softer and more absorbent, so you can get it wet without worrying about damage and it makes for better clothing. It's gross at first, but you get used to the idea once you start wearing your own leather."

He stands up, holding the spear loosely at his side and gesturing her to follow. "Good. I'll let you keep whatever we find in the trap."

Sure enough, there's a nice plump squirrel in there. He offers her his spear again. "You want to do the honors?"

"Gross!" she responds at once, though with a grin on her face that largely ruins the effect. "How does anyone even find that out?" Did some person a long time ago just decide to rub a brain on a piece of animal hide to see what happened? It's so weird.

Clementine stands up to continue trotting at Bruce's heels, "Are you sure? You made all these traps, you might need them." but if he insists again she knows she'll say yes, too practical to be that proud.

She reaches for the spear again when they stop, nodding. She better practice while she can and while she has someone who knows what he's doing to advise her. This time Clementine doesn't hesitate. "How did you first learn to do this?"

He chuckles softly at her cheerful disgust, absently ruffling her hair without even noticing he's doing it. "Who knows? Maybe someone was cooking some brain stew and spilled it on the skin."

He watches her kill the squirrel, noting how she's already gaining confidence with the process. "Most of these animals are there to feed the rest of my team. Barton is probably going to go take down a deer. We can spare a squirrel or two."

Once the squirrel is properly dead, he gestures for her to try undoing the trap like he showed her. "I told you I was on the run back home, didn't I? Well, a lot of land is still undeveloped or poor, so when there weren't places I could buy food, I had to catch it myself. I was lucky enough that there were people around who were ready to teach me how to do it."

"Bleeerghh! I never want to eat brains, not ever!" she snorts and bops her shoulder into Bruce's side after he ruffles her hair, staying lent against him for a couple of steps before straightening back up.

With the squirrel dead Clementine kneels down and very carefully starts to undoing the trap, her fingers working delicately for fear of getting it wrong. It takes a little longer for her to manage than when Bruce did it but she gets the squirrels carcass free.

"I wish I could go travelling with you, it sounds really exciting, except for the part about being on the run."

He lets out an amused huff. He smiles warmly down at her, more warmly than he looks at anyone else. "Here's hoping you don't ever have to. They're all slimy." And with that, one hand darts out and he gently tickles her neck for a moment, still smiling.

He nods when she gets the squirrel out, then gestures for her to try re-setting the trap. "It's very exciting. Dangerous, too. It's rough in areas where there's a lot of hardship--but you already know that." The smile softens. "One day, I'd like to show you some of it. I can think of a lot of people who you'd get along with."

"Have you ever eaten brains, Bru -- hahahaha! Hey!" she giggles when he tickles her neck. It feels good to have someone like that, an adult, that she can joke and play with. Someone like... well like Lee had been.

"Yeah. I'd want it to be more like... vacation. Vacations were fun, you got to travel and not worry about something trying to get you." Clementine says wistfully as she works. "You mean in your world? If we ever got to leave here?"

"Not even I know everything I've eaten. Sometimes, when you're hungry enough, you just eat whatever people put in front of you and don't ask questions." Not entirely an answer, but details.

Bruce's smile becomes wistful. It's nice to imagine taking Clementine across the world. Introducing her to the people he's met, showing her all the beauty and diversity on their little blue planet--it could never happen, because in his own world, he's dangerous and a child shouldn't be near him, but it's nice to imagine. "Yeah, my world. I'm sure we could explore yours, if you wanted, but I think mine might be a little more... lively?" Considering everything she's said about her own.

Edited 2015-05-10 03:20 (UTC)

"I know what that's like." Of course, she'd also lived through an example of why you should very much ask questions about what you were eating, no matter how hungry you were. Bruce probably doesn't need to hear about the dairy though and it's not a story Clementine's eager to remember either.

"Probably a lot less dangerous, and with stuff to eat too." she shakes her head, "You don't want to go to my world." especially as she didn't want to go back there either.

"Not really, with how you've described it."

After the trap is set again, he gestures for her to follow him. They can clean up the meat by the river where there's water to work with.

"You know, when we get a chance to go back home--" when, not if, he has to keep believing it's a when, "--I can't think of any reason you'd have to go back to your own world. It's worth thinking about where you want to go." Not he's going to push her into his world. It's her choice. She probably would know best where she would probably do well.

"Neither can I." Sure, there are people there she likes, people she doesn't want to leave behind but she still doesn't want to go back. It feels selfish and Clementine hopes they would agree with her, that in her place they would choose the same way. Their world was death and hunger, a daily struggle with little hope that things would ever get better.

This world, bad as it is, at least has the chance that it could get better.

"If I don't have to go back I won't." she keeps close as she follows Bruce.

"Then you should think where you're going, if not there. Or if you want to stay here."

Assuming, of course, the Capitol is toppled. Even then, it might not be the best place to stay. Revolutions don't usually have nice, tidy ends, even if the rebels win. There are years and years of horrible growing pains to move through afterwards.

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The thunder plays its drum

a or b works, actually. if you're okay with her stumbling on him

Absolutely okay!

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