thearena | We Fell from a Dying Tree [Closed]

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We Fell from a Dying Tree [Closed]

Who| Howard, Eponine and Sigma
What| Running into each other, and possibly Howard feeling bad about that whole 'stabbing Sigma' thing.
Where| Atop the glacier looking for birds.
When| Mid-days
Warnings| Death

It's very tempting to stay in their hidey-hole in the ice, where he's sharing heat with Eponine and not being exposed to the wind. He's never experienced cold like this before. He's been shivering nonstop, even bundled in his protective gear and while on the move, and he hasn't been able to feel his fingertips or toes in the last twenty-four hours. What's worse, moving around seems to give him a sort of exertional asthma, something entirely foreign to him. He's trying to keep from looking weak or helpless, especially around Eponine, who's lived like this before, but he's a trembling, numb, freezing little wreck.

But Howard and Eponine know better than anyone that food is a necessity, and as such they have to catch birds. Neither of them have faith in the Sponsors giving them any charity. Howard was thrilled and touched to receive the food and medicine from Anna, and he's been keeping that safe, knowing that the can of food will stay unperished for a while - he promised Eponine he'd share it if they both need it. The medicine he's been using sparingly, to keep the slash on his side from infection and to keep his nose straight. The small bandage over it looks like a sticker of a butterfly.

Howard's stayed out long enough to set up a sparkling trap of his broken sunglasses and a strip of bandage as a lure for the birds, and to an extent it works; a curious sea bird comes to investigate, and Howard manages to lunge from behind a jutting piece of ice and catch it. He nearly loses it to the slipperiness of his gloves, but he manages to bash it against the ground as it tries to get away, and then stomp it to death. It's sloppy work, all broken bones and feathers, but it's food.

He looks out over the face of the glacier for his ally, or for any danger, and tucks the brutalized bird under his arm. "Eponine? I got us something," he calls.

[OOC: perhaps Sigma can overhear? Tag order Sigma then Eponine.]

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Supplies hoisted over his shoulder, Sigma Klim roamed the glacier. He believed it was nothing short of a miracle that he had lasted this long, but for someone who had none of the experience of surviving permanent winter that his fellow refugees on earth did, Sigma was doing rather well for himself.

Having been on the move most of the day, the doctor was getting too tired and too hungry to continue on the same way for long. Figuring he was far enough from the others to catch his breath, he'd been about to take a rest until a familiar voice started him. Not having much in the way of peripheral vision on his right side, he'd failed to notice he had roamed into occupied territory. Or had they been hiding, waiting for an opponent? Sigma gritted his teeth; they were close...

And as he realized whose voice that shout belonged to, Sigma's reaction was not panic or a startled gasp, but a low, quiet sigh. For a moment, he deeply regretted returning the knife. He kneeled as flat into the snow as he could, wondering if he still had time to leave before he caught the others' attention. It seemed his foolishness was soon to pay him back in full...

"You have found food already?" A voice that Sigma might perhaps recognise, a slightly husky French accent, calls back to Howard.
"I can't find anything to make a fire with, you know? There is nothing here. We might have to just... eat it."

How she misses the Capitol. Heat, proper food, comfort, luxury... she could go on. Still, Eponine goes to find Howard. She trudges up from near their crevice, and up towards Howard, when she freezes. She can see Sigma, lying in the snow, and no doubt he can hear her too. What does she do now? She knows what she wants to do - present herself as a willing target - but that would only upset Howard. So what to do now?

She does the only thing she can think of, and screams, as loudly as she can.

That doesn't surprise Howard. They can't spare clothing and there's no wood to burn. Maybe if they shove it under ice they can keep themselves from getting sick. "I don't know about you, but I've eaten way worse in the past few y-"

It's in Howard's nature to run in the opposite direction of screaming, and if he hadn't come over the bluff of the glacier to see Eponine standing there shrieking, he probably would have booked it. But he can't really stand there and watch his only friend here get killed, can he?

So instead he runs for her, hoping to grab her and run off with her from whatever danger seems to be taking an agonizingly long time to get her. And he skids to a stop when he sees it's a man in the snow - seemingly unarmed and not approaching them. After a second Howard recognizes the chin.

"I know this guy!" When he's next to Eponine, he gets the knife out. Just in case, depending on what Sigma does. He and Sigma didn't part on great terms.

The instant Eponine started screaming, Sigma realized it was too late to run. As Howard drew closer, he stood slowly, raising his hands in a submissive gesture. The glove of his right hand remained shredded and frosted over with white ice. Cautiously, he took a step forward. "I know the both of you," Sigma corrected stiffly. "I wouldn't have imagined you were friends!" He was surprised that the person he had thought to be a violent indoctrinated maniac was treating the suicidal girl so well.

He lowered the hood of his parka, exposing his greying hair, hoping to humanize himself. His last hope was set on the optimism that he had misjudged the boy. "Nice to see you again, too," he growled, nodding towards the knife, not happy the boy didn't comply with his earlier threat.

"We're not -" It's a reflex with Eponine, to deny friendship. But really, she and Howard ARE friends... And she finds she recognises the man, now that she can see him properly. He's the man who urged her to run.

"How do you know him?" Eponine tilts her head to the side as she questions Howard. "He won't hurt us. I asked him to kill me, and no."

Howard hesitates and bites his lip. On one hand, he doesn't trust Eponine's judgment here - Sigma refusing to kill someone 'sitting out' the actual fight is different than possibly killing someone for supplies a few days later. Then again, Sigma had the chance to stab him too and didn't take it.

"We, uh..." Howard scratches the back of his head and slowly lowers the knife. "We ran into each other at the Cornucopia."

Howard kind of stabbed Sigma. Whoops.

"I didn't realize you were that old." Not that it would have made a difference, but it still startles Howard. He finishes putting the knife away. "Sorry about, uh. About what happened there."

"Hmm. Maybe now you will think twice about who you point that knife at in the future," he snapped, if only because his hand was still throbbing. He also had a nice slice in the arm of his jacket that was letting freezing air in, and a lot of spilled artificial blood, both courtesy of Howard.

Sigma sighs. He didn't mean to live up to the stereotype of the grouchy old man, but he was nearly exhausted. He pressed a gloved hand against his temple to stave off an oncoming headache. These children weren't going to kill him anymore... Calming down, Dr. Klim attempted to correct his response: "...I should have backed off first," he continued slowly, "It was not very adult of me. I apologize as well."

He hesitated for a moment before offering his hand for a forgiving handshake. In ancient times, it was a gesture to show that one was unarmed, a display that seemed especially fitting now. "...My name is Sigma Klim. The lady is correct, I have no intention of harming either one of you. I loathe this ridiculous game..."

Eponine listens to to both Howard and Sigma, and she does not look impressed.
"You hurt him?" It's addressed to Howard, though her eyes are fixed for the most part on Sigma. "It is not a -" She stops. She doesn't even know what to say. It's just part of the game, no?

Eponine laughs, though. "I am no lady, Monsieur. I do like that you think I am though. They are nice, these clothes, to make you think so."

"It's a long story," Howard says, more to his shoes than to Eponine or Sigma. It's actually a very short story, but it's clear he doesn't want to talk about it in front of Eponine. He keeps placing himself between Sigma and Eponine, as if trying to protect her - an act that looks a bit strange given that he's even smaller than she is.

He reaches a hand out to shake Sigma's, although it's clear it's reluctantly. To dispel any false assumptions, he says, "it's nothing personal, I just don't really like touch. I'm Howard and this is Eponine."

The woman's comment drew a chuckle from the Doctor. She was certainly an odd one! "You are on television, my dear, and may be whatever you wish to be."

He smiled knowingly at Howard's introduction, nodding as he drew his hand away. If only the other could know just how alike they were in that respect. "Noted. Normally I would say it is a pleasure to meet the two of you, but considering our circumstances..."

He noticed Howard's protectiveness of Eponine, then eyed the mess of feathers and brutalized seabird. What could he do to get them to trust him? "Did I interrupt a hunt?" he inquired. An idea had come to him, one that could become his one chance at survival.

"I don't think anybody could be a lady or a gentleman here. Soonenough, Monsieur, we will each wander into the darkness and be grabbed from behind and stabbed or hacked or killed, anyway." Eponine's laugh has stopped, and she looks completely unimpressed again.

"There are people here who are real ladies and gentlemen, got gamines like us. It ain't right."

She moves to stand next to Howard. Eponine's giving up on anyone killing her this round and she's not scared of Sigma. She eyes the seagull too. It looks disgusting, and she's got to eat it raw.

"What I wouldn't give for a crust, you know? You perhaps did interrupt though, Monsieur."

Where Eponine's laugh stops, Howard's starts, but it's the dry, bitter sound of someone who's only searching for humor in a situation because they've long given up on happiness. It's been the same sort of snicker he's been carrying around for much longer than just arriving here, and it seems too old for his youth.

"Wasn't really an interruption, Sigs. The bird wasn't going anywhere, at least, not anymore." He thrusts it out so they can get a look at it. He won't offer to share with Sigma until Eponine does, even if he does feel bad for stabbing him.

"It's okay, Pony, I'll show you how to eat it so it doesn't taste so bad. Besides, we can stuff the feathers in our hoods for a little extra warmth."

Sigs? It wasn't the worst nickname he'd ever had. At Eponine's complaint, Sigma reached for something strung across his back - a fairly impressive line of cans connected with pieces from his ripped coat sleeve. It was clear to Sigma that Howard wanted him to leave as soon as possible, but the old man wasn't finished. Ripping the bottom one off of the line, he tossed a can of food towards the girl, his expression blank.

"It is not exactly what you wanted, but it should do the trick for now. There is more where that came from." Dr. Klim folded his arms. "I would be willing to share. ...In exchange, I want to ask the two of you a favour."

PONY? Did Howard really just shorten her name, the one and only thing she likes about herself, to an animal? A pack horse? Great.
She says nothing, though. What's the point in protesting a name? Instead, she looks at the bird and sighs.

"Meat is meat. It cannot be worse than cat. Or rat."

She eyes Sigma warily as he throws the can to her - is it really food? She bends dowb cautiously to examine it. Yes - it is food.

"Monsieur... Why?" She picks it up, looking skeptically at Sigma, but puts it down quickly, and folds her arms to listen to his conditions. Conditions. Her top lip quirks up and she snorts a laugh. That's about right.
"What is it? I will not kill him, nor he... He won't kill me either. I will not let him." She sounds a lot more confident than she feels about that.

Nicknaming serves two purposes for Howard - showing affection for Eponine, and undercutting the authority of age with Sigma. Howard doesn't believe in the power of the latter; his world was run by teenagers, with the adults holding power only by the specter of their absence.

Besides, what's wrong with ponies? They're cute and everyone loves them.

"I don't know, cockroaches are pretty gross. No way a bird can be worse than eating roaches."

He frowns as Sigma offers the food, suspicion writing its way into the lines of his eyes and brow. Nothing ever comes for free in this world; at best, it's earned through sweat and craft, at worst it's gotten through more underhanded measures. It's ingrained into Howard especially not to share food with anyone he isn't close to, as for a while there there wasn't ever even enough for him alone.

"What's the favor?"

Sigma remained silent for a moment, watching the two of them carefully. Then he began slowly: "Because having strength in numbers is a significant asset in this game. Together, the three of us will have better odds than we do individually: I want to come with you."

He knew how ridiculous his request would sound before he said it. How could a nearly 70 year old man be anything but a burden? He had the seven cans of food he'd managed to take on his dash away from the Cornucopia as offering, but divided among three people they wouldn't last long and his usefulness would soon be at an end.

He was quiet a moment longer. "I believe you already have an idea, Howard, of how there is more to me than there appears to be. And if you would lend me the knife for just a moment, I could prove it to you." To suggest he wouldn't run off with their weapon, he slid the linkage of cans from his shoulder and threw it onto the snow in front of them as collateral. He doubted they would agree, but if he were asking for an alliance, what reason would he have to kill them? And if they, too, saw something to gain from an alliance, they may as well start trusting each other now.

Eponine cocks her head, considering.
"Yes," she concedes finally. "Cockroaches are worse. They crunch too much."

But then her attention goes wholly to Sigma and she looks at him in astonishment.

"You want to stay with us? Why?"

Her eyes go to the cans in the snow.

"You could survive this, Monsieur. You have food for weeks by yourself. Howard and I will not live long here. Why come with us? There are people who are stronger than us out there."

Even so, she pulls open the can that Sigma had already thrown to her, and pulled out the food inside, handing a little to Howard and biting off a little herself.

Howard doesn't take the food for the moment. He doesn't want to agree to a deal he doesn't know the terms of yet. Instead he pulls the knife back out and holds it in the palm of his hand, thinking it over.

"He needs warm bodies," he says to Eponine. "It's colder out here on your own. And he's new to the arena, but we did it last time. We know more of what to expect. But we're also not a huge threat because he knows you won't kill him and he can probably overpower me, if he had to." Especially if he's a cyborg that bleeds milk.

He can see where it benefits Sigma, and to an extent can see where it benefits him and Eponine too - aside from the obvious benefit of food, they can alternate keeping watch at night.

"But aside from the knife, we don't have much he'd get out of robbing and killing us."

He holds the knife, handle-first, out to Sigma. It's clearly something that terrifies him, and his hands are shaking. There's a tension in his jaw as if he's wrestling with himself over the action, as if he knows, just knows that the instant that precious weapon leaves his hands it's going to be used to spill his blood. The weapon's all he has, the only thing that levels the playing field for him in a world of people taller and heavier than he is.

When Eponine had told him that one's first death was not a release from the Games, Sigma had not believed her. But when Howard says it, the Doctor's frown tightens, and he has no room left for doubt. This was something he would need to inquire more about later... Still, Sigma's hand is calm and steady in comparison to the boy's as it grips the handle. "You do not mince words," he replies warily, and takes the knife once more from Howard's hands. This time, it follows easily, and without bloodshed. He inspects it regretfully, knowing that he'll never be so lucky as to be armed like Howard was. As he raised his eye from the knife, he gives Eponine a look of disappointment to see that she'd already started on the rations he gave her. "No more cans until it becomes an emergency," he suggests.

Nearby he could hear the telltale flutter of wings, the only other source of food he'd come across. They were sharp animals, and getting close to the seabirds on a mostly flat terrain without startling them was a challenge. How they'd managed to catch the one they had, Sigma couldn't guess. He lowered the knife to his side, pointing towards the ground with his free hand. "...Wait here," he commanded quietly, and with the grace of a cat on grass he stalked off towards the lone bird.

He went slowly, being sure to stay within his companion's sights. In fact, he didn't come more than 30 feet close to the bird before he stopped. Closing his organic eye, he removed his glasses and exposed the mechanical implant on his face to the light. His cybernetic eye came to life, and like the scope of a gun it narrowed and focused on his target. His arm raised the knife slowly... Sigma took a deep breath. With the combined efforts of his strengthened mechanical arms and the zoom lens on his eye, the poor creature didn't stand a chance. He gives one heavy throw, and the knife pierces its throat with the ease of an axe. After a spurt of blood it falls, dead.

He straighted up with a sigh. After claiming his first "kill", Sigma returned to the pair. "Thank you," he said curtly, and offered the knife back to Howard.

Eponine glares at Sigma when he reprimands her, and she drops the bit of food back into the can reluctantly. She's so hungry, she hates it. And having the food there, right in front of her? It drives her mad. She'd never learned not to just gobble whatever was in front of her. Usually, she ate what she could when she had it, and worried about her next feed later. Sigma's idea's foreign to her.

But she watches in fascination as Sigma hunts. When he comes back, Eponine is open mouthed.

"How did you do that, Monsieur?"

And then, quieter, to Howard, "We should let him stay; he will make sure we have food."

He cringes when Sigma takes the knife. He can't help it, and he hates that he does, because he doesn't like that he tends to wear his fear so obviously in his body language. It makes him look as vulnerable as he feels he is.

Howard's face settles into a very serious expression as he watches Sigma.

Quietly to Eponine, "I can make sure we have food," as though she was doubting him and insulting him. But he knows she's right, really. But louder, "yeah, how'd you do that?"

And he holds his hand out because he wants the knife back.

After returning the knife, Sigma decides it will be easiest to show them. Dropping the bird, Sigma lifts the fabric of his sleeve. He removes his right glove and exposes the wound he received grabbing the blade of Howard's knife at the Cornucopia, palm up. Instead of being loose and creased with age, the skin on his hand and forearm is young and muscular. On his hand it is sheared off in places, and where muscle and bone should be is a shining metallic skeleton. White blood still drips from stringy white nerve fibres, the loss of the liquid making his hand look slightly deflated, but it is clearly operational.

"My eye and both arms had to be replaced with cybernetics as a young man. It gives me an edge despite my age," he's slowly replacing the fabric. The cold stings, but it is only pain. "I guarantee I can pull my own weight. So then, what is your answer?"

Edited 2013-02-02 18:03 (UTC)

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We Fell from a Dying Tree [Closed]

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