Vantage Points [semi-open]

[shiftingurbulls]

Who| Ellis and the Walking Dead group or anyone who passes by
What| Meeting fellow zombie-apocalypse survivors
Where| Around the caves and glaciers
When| Week 3 before the Guido Suit massacre
Warnings/Notes| Language, talk of Gore...usual business

Ellis had to admit, the sponsors were kind to him to get him all warmed up and armed. Granted it wasn't a rifle like Nick and it was terribly lonely to wait for him to come back from whatever he was doing. He'd told the man to rest for a day in their cave, there wasn't that much need to hunt or defend themselves. Nick, this isn't Georgia, we don't have medkits lying around for us to find. Lay down an' recover, okay? But like hell Suits listened to him. He barely did back home!

Beth implied there were more survivors out there from his home state (halleluyah!) and Ellis knew that as soon as Lt. Raine gained a weapon, he'd be more than fine on his own. So the mechanic grabbed the nearest rock and scratched on the wall a message for Nick to find if the gambler came back before he did:

"LEFT FOR SUPPLIES, BE BACK SOON."

With that, bundled up and the small pocket knife on tow, Ellis set out to explore the Arena again now that the cats were gone.


A. Cave Story

The caves around this land had proven to be a challenge for the ever-curious man to explore and forage in. There was evidence of other people living in there, more experienced Tributes in the art of putting the best and bloodiest show the Capitol could see. All El could get out of these were scraps he could either consume or build trinkets to beat the boredom. Every time the mechanic ran into a campsite, he'd slow down his paces, avoid making unnecessary sounds as to not cause a fight. For all his boisterous acting, survival usually trumped his itch to say hello to anyone he met. Not everyone was as friendly as he was, Nick reminded him so many times back home.

"Hello?" Ellis called out inside, making sure he was close enough to the exit to make a quick getaway. Anyone returning his greeting would see him raise his weapon first before he relaxed.


B. Self-Imposed Challenge

"Okay, tha's impressive," El whispered under his breath as he admired the glacial majesty before him. He felt so tiny and insignificant against the massive structure. Naturally, he said to himself, "I'm gonna climb it." How he survived the Green Flu outbreak is sometimes a mystery. The thing about glaciers is the sheer difficulty that comes with trying to get footing without the proper shoe wear as the mechanic soon found out after a few unsuccessful tries at crossing the river to get to it. "Fuckin' hell," he hissed under his breath before giving up, "Coulda made for a good vantage point."

So the next best thing were the trees, something he had more experience in. It was how he kept whatever meager supplies he could find safe from any slippery hands. He was young and flexible enough to make his way up the branches. Anyone looking up will see a grinning idiot ready to say hello or pounce and get their supplies then disappear into the wilderness if they proved to be untrustworthy. Though Ellis had a fatal flaw in his plan: he wouldn't kill the target. These were thinking people, and he refused to commit murder.

Comments

Mind if I tag in A?

[fivefingereddiscount]

[There's very little in this particular cave: a stone that appears to have had something sharpened on it, a little blood, and a few half-frozen chunks of some kind of meat.

Garrett hesitates when he notices someone checking out his little cave. Thankfully, a lifetime of slinking in the shadows has taught him to move silently and he'd found a winter camouflage-patterned blanket to use as a cloak, so the thief carefully approaches the stranger from above. Every handhold, every ledge, is carefully and quietly picked out as he makes his way down. He pauses again, just above the man, then drops down squarely on his shoulders.

He raises his knife, seemingly to stab the man, but doesn't bring the blade down.]

Are you alone?!

Go ahead!

[shiftingurbulls]

[The mechanic doesn't know what's coming but he doesn't hesitate to defend himself. He struggles to get out of the restraints by punching and grabbing anything he could to get the thief off him.]

I was until y'all came along! Yer a rude-ass motherfucker!

[Said the man who had intruded the cave in the first place. It's the principle of the matter and El treats the attacker as he would a Hunter Infected: try to bean him with a rock]

[fivefingereddiscount]

[The unexpected flailing throws Garrett off, and he grunts in pain when that rock connects with his shoulder. He recovers by holding his knife to the kid's throat and listening to their surroundings for a moment. No footsteps. No weapons being readied. Not even an extra body breathing.

The thief relaxes a little, lowering the knife.]

I'm not the one poking around people's campsites.

[shiftingurbulls]

[The mechanic glared and tried to shove Garrett off him.] Didn't yer momma ever tell ya not to bust someone's arms off before meetin' them? Fuckin' rude, you know?

[Without his guns or melee weapon, El raised his fists in his best defense stance]

[fivefingereddiscount]

I didn't realize etiquette was such a priority in a death match.

[He does put the knife away, though, and gives the kid a bit of an incredulous look.]

Is that really how you want this to go down, kid? Fighting over scraps?

[shiftingurbulls]

If I'm gonna kill someone, I ain't pullin' tha' backstabbin' shit. [As soon as Garrett puts the weapon down, El follows suit and lowers his fists]

How th' hell did ya git up there? Spiderman or something?

[He's studying the thief and squinted his eyes] Not tha' it's done any good.

[fivefingereddiscount]

Why not? It's safer than stabbing them in the front.

[Especially if they've got better weapons and training than you. Thieves that fight fair tend to die very young, in his experience.]

I climbed.

[He glares at Ellis and shifts his stance to be more defensive as well.]

You're not actually going to play their game, are you?

a (hope this works)

[burningdaylight]

These days, the wind’s so stingingly sharp it feels like it’s flaying the skin off his face. It’s hard to imagine setting up camp anywhere other than in the cave they settled into before the brutal drop in temperatures towards the end of the first week – and with that in mind they’ve been mindful to guard it as best they could against other would-be intruders. Just like back home, certain sorts of people would not be above trying to take food or supplies or shelter by force. Many have done worse – taken more - for lesser reasons.

So when someone’s voice bounces off the cave walls, a muted echo, Luke snaps to attention and is up on his feet with a branch-spear in hand, every line of his body tightening. But he doesn’t move to engage the stranger yet. There’s a bend in the tunnel ahead, enough that Luke can’t see who might be of a mind to come their way – though with any luck maybe the man would reconsider.

Because, before the bend and not all too far from the cave’s mouth, is the first of two rudimentary snow-and-sharpened-pike fences they’ve erected which have since frozen solid. Nothing that an adult of average height couldn’t very carefully cross if he or she meant to. It was really only a deterrent marking ownership of the space – and that being the case he’s inclined to think only the most desperate, morbidly curious, or bloodthirsty of tributes would take one look at it and keep pressing forward. But they'd hear an intruder coming at least, the cave floor around the first fence being littered with layers of thinner, dead branches just waiting to snap underfoot.

Luke steps over the second barrier separating their living space from the rest of the cave, listening quietly. His pulse racing in his throat.

"Hey," He calls back, his voice firm but not unfriendly. "Cave's taken."

It does!

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis was intrigued by the barriers, "Not bad, not bad." Though he did noticed the fatal flaw in the spikes' structure. Maybe tree sap could reinforce the joints, or twine...A well placed shove or blast from Nick's rifle could've compromised the-wait that was an answer back!

"Don't worry! I got my own, sir!" El responded, unaware of possible dangers. What sensible man doesn't respond to a friendly hello? Friendly as in not having a gun to his face. "We're kinda like neighbors! Thought I'd drop by if y'all needed any help?"

The degree of sincerity behind said question was measurable, "I know it's a murder fer all but it don't mean we all hafta shoot thy neighbor if you know what I mean."

[burningdaylight]

A moment of considering silence.

“Awful nice a’ you,” Luke offers from out of sight, a healthy skepticism tingeing his voice. Then: 'M'comin' over."

It’s always a pleasant surprise, meeting someone else who preferred trading words to wounds -- if the stranger is to be taken as an honest man. He might very well be. But it’s too soon to make that call, too soon to allow relief to wash over him and surrender to the exhaustion of keeping his guard raised nearly every waking moment. So he edges around the curve and making his approach with his spear firm in his grip, no fear and uncertainty in the way he carries himself. Only an animal-like, wary readiness, every muscle in his body cocked for counterattack as the man comes into view.

A young looking fellow. Able-bodied.

Luke holds his gaze steady, his breath misting pale in the air. The pocket knife's glinting edge immediately catches his eye and it doesn’t escape him that there might be more in the way of weapons tucked under his coat.

[shiftingurbulls]

Unlike the walking murder machine his Nick was becoming, Ellis only had his pocket knife to battle any Tribute. And yet, he knew that instinctual gait the cave's host was portraying: wary and ready to kill on sight if needed. Only recently, after separating from the suit and the lieutenant, and seeing some of the others massacre each other did the mechanic return to flight or fight.

"Hate t' havin' jus' busted in but if we stand a chance, I might as well help ya," he offered, "Name's Ellis, wha's yers?" He wore his optimism like armor, that hope of things getting better to prevent any sanity slippage. But his run in the Green Flu planted in him the seeds of inevitability. He knew he wouldn't die of old age.

[burningdaylight]

"Hey."

Luke comes to a stop a foot from the barrier, his expression cautiously neutral and the bloodied point of his branch-spear angled downwards. Outside the arenas, where the threat of bodily harm was low so long as he kept his head down and chose his words and his company carefully, the guy's approach wouldn't put him on the defensive. But the circumstances are very different here and he strikes him as too eager, too friendly for him to let it go unquestioned.

"We're doin’ fine, thank you." He says in a calm, quietly authoritative voice, one that, while unaggressive, leaves no room for any wheedling attempts at persuasion. "If we need anythin', I'll let you know." He adds. Politely, but unwilling to feed into any expectations he may have.

"I'm Luke." A thoughtful frown creases his brow. "You on your own out there?"

[shiftingurbulls]

"Oh, all righ'" Ellis shrugged and ruffled up his jacket for a bit. At least he met someone new that wasn't ready to shoot him in the face or steal his stuff. It was as if the concept of fight to the death eluded the young man, at least for now. He was ready to head out and explore the other caves but at that question.

"For now...I'm with this guy named Nick. He's a surly guy but he's a Survivor too! From New Orleans!" El answered with a little more gusto, unaware that his Nick had created quite the reputation among others. "He told me to watch over stuff but...he hasn't come back for a while." In other words, he's quite alone and he has no idea of what was happening.

a

[hereliestheabyss]

Caves back in Thedas usually meant one thing: Spiders. Giant spiders. Seeing as the ones in the arena appeared to be clear of the murderous insects, Hawke was more than happy to explore them to her heart’s content. If the people from her—country, world, timeline, whatever makeshift magic label could be applied—were camped out in one, there were bound to be more tributes inhabiting others. Her goal ran more along the lines of finding abandoned camps, however, the possibility of supplies left in a mad rush to escape too good to pass up. She could only wave a pointy stick at people for so long. She needed a real weapon. Food or a blanket or any other resources couldn’t hurt, either.

It was an idea evidently shared by others, if the voice that came from the mouth of the cave she’d been exploring was anything to go by. Hawke stood up from where she’d been examining the remains of a campfire, edging closer to the source of the greeting and raising an incredulous brow when the glint of a knife was produced.

“Do they normally greet people with weapons drawn where you’re from? That sounds like an awfully barbaric society.”

[shiftingurbulls]

"Maybe," Ellis responded with a hint of humor to his voice, "Then again, we're in very different circumstances an' this ain't a gun."

This was a different sort of person El was used to, considering he came from a world were more for fantasy and pretty bitching-looking motorcycle designs. Not actual things to be afraid of.

But as a show of good faith, the mechanic sheathed the knife and raised his hands to the strange woman. "See? Knife gone, we're all good, right?"

[hereliestheabyss]

“I can only assume your comparison is supposed to be comforting to someone who knows what a gun is.”

Hawke’s tone was not nearly as scathing as her words might have implied. It was light-hearted as anything, playful ribbing meant to be taken in jest with just a hint of skepticism, because, really, what’s a gun. She crossed her arms, nodding once. Her own “weapon”, AKA pointy stick, had been left with the remains of the fire.

“I never said we were bad in the first place, but yes. No issues here. Though if you’d like to let me in on how you got that knife, we’d be even better.”

[shiftingurbulls]

The mechanic gave her a tip of his hat, as a courtesy, "You're not from a time when guns were invented, huh?" Not even close, as it turns out. "I'm Ellis, wha's yours?" Make a good enough impression that he might survive.

At that question, Ellis pointed up from the sky, "I got it as a gift from a Sponsor, they do occasional air drops to people they like...Do good an' you're gonna git rewarded."

[hereliestheabyss]

“Not unless it happened while I lived under a rock. Which, to be fair, I practically did while I was on the run, but that sounds like the sort of thing that would have people talking. So I’m going to go with a solid no.”

His manners were as foreign as the rest of him. She knew courtesy when she saw it, of course, she just… Wasn’t sure what to make of it, not in the situation she found herself in. He was the first one she’d met to introduce himself so readily. Funny how that worked. “Hawke. Just Hawke will do.” No point in providing her first name. No one ever used it, least of all her.

She followed his line of sight, narrowing her eyes at where it led and meeting his proclamation with yet another helping of doubt. “I have to be nice? That’s no fun. Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of a death match?”

[shiftingurbulls]

"Nice as in givin' them a show, Ma'am Hawke," El pointed out without missing a beat, "They want blood though I'm sure there's a few bodies over outside tha' still have weapons. Guns are noisy but they're faster than arrows an' have one hell o' an impact. Especially fer the head, they explode."

Yep, he's just admitted to robbing corpses for supplies in Panem television. He has no shame in speaking his mind.

"I gotta keep alive, you know?"

Late zombro for A?

[rictator]

It was only by virtue of the fact that Rick had been expecting his group that Ellis had gotten as far as he did. The crunch of snow had caught his attention before the trespasser had even reached the cave entrance, and he was on his feet and out of the tent before they'd managed to cross the threshold. Pressed against the wall, the shadows were dense enough to temporarily mask his presence, leaving him the brief moments he'd need; while he'd been waiting on Beth and Daryl's return, there was always the other option.

Based on the unfamiliar gait, he was betting on the latter.

In the end, it had only been a matter of time; the arena was a finite space, and with the building snow, shelters were probably limited. Unfortunately for Ellis, this one had already been claimed.

"That's far enough."

Rick didn't need his gun to back his threats anymore; the look in his eyes carried more dangerous potential than any firearm. The space between them was still wide enough to eliminate any immediate threat, and he made no effort to hide his own weapon as he stepped out into the light of the dying fire. He moved with a practiced finesse, assertive but non-threatening - one of the few things that lingered from when he was still just a small town cop, defusing a tough situation.

Thus far, he'd managed to scrape by without killing any of the other tributes - but it wasn't because he was unwilling.

"I suggest you turn around."

not late, fashionable

[shiftingurbulls]

The way the older man talked, not actively attacking or threatening and yet imposing, Ellis was well-aware this Tribute wasn't one to be messed with, even with jokes or rambling. He had to get to the point or get out. The mechanic pocketed his knife then raised his hands, no harm here. He'd done the same with Luke in the other cave, these were not times to fool around and taunt a former cop.

"Y-yessir, I was hopin' I coul' find more first aid supplies," thinking on his feet, El said the truth and hoped for the best. "I know this is a death arena, but I needed to scavenge for my companion. I'm not lookin' fer a cave, I have one."

/gatecrashes

[weaintashes]

The footprints in the snow offered a wealth of information if one knew how to interpret it. Daryl already knew what to expect — an adult man a bit slighter than himself — long before he laid eyes on the person in question.

The deer carcass he'd been carrying had been stashed nearby, making his approach from behind almost entirely silent as he took care to step only in the already compacted areas of snow, timing his movements to coincide with Rick and the stranger speaking with each other, to further mask the sound of his soft footfalls. His hunting knife was drawn and he kept his other arm raised slightly higher than waist-level, in preparation to deflect any attack that might come his way.

It was in this manner that he appeared behind Ellis, ready to disarm or take him down as needed. His eyes were trained on Rick's face, just waiting for his signal, breath pluming in the frigid air at regular intervals. He was calm; this was a familiar, well practised routine.

Thus far in the arena, they'd been very fortunate and hadn't been forced to use many of their first aid supplies, so some could comfortably be spared, provided the request was genuine. But that decision was ultimately up to Rick, and Daryl wasn't yet of a mind to argue on the stranger's behalf. Best to speak with him a bit more first.

WELCOME

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis was unaware of Daryl's presence behind him so when he placed his weapon on the floor, he was completely vulnerable.

"I just need bandages an' antiseptic, I'm willin' to trade my knife fer it," the mechanic offered. This is how much he cared for Nick: to lay himself at the mercy of two experienced Tributes to make sure the man survived his injuries as best he could. And that sort of loyalty came with survival.

"I don't want trouble either an' I'll leave as soon as I git an answer."

It's a real party now.

[rictator]

The fact he'd lowered his weapon was a point in his favour, though Rick made no move to do the same. He'd been burned one too many times in the past, no longer naive enough to take a stranger at their word. The world had changed and he'd learned all too well what men were capable of - A trade was well and good, until the offered knife was buried in his back.

While there was no question as to whether he'd noticed Daryl's approach, his eyes remained trained on the stranger, gaze appraising and colder than the frigid climate. They'd run this same tactic countless times back in Georgia, their team work streamlined and perfected over time; it would take only the briefest signal and Daryl would be on him, taking out the target before they even realized the danger.

As it stood, Rick still wasn't sure it would be necessary. The arena was hardly the place to foster friendships, engineered as it was to have them at each other's throats. Ellis had come there for first aid supplies, or so he'd claimed. No food, no weapons... Bandages. Whether they were actually for his companion was anyone's guess, but he didn't move like a man injured. The bulky winter wear might have disguised it somewhat, but there was an absence of the usual signs - no blood, no favouring of one side over the other.

Not only that, but he was willing to hand over his knife, potentially leaving him defenseless against those with more dangerous intentions. Rick was prepared to accept that sort of loyalty from his own people, but in others? It could easily have been a bid for his sympathy. At one point in his life, it would probably have worked.

In the end, there could be no certainty in any of those observations. The silence hung for an uncomfortably long period before he finally spoke up, his head tilting slightly.

"How many tributes have you killed?"

guess who brought possum cake!

[weaintashes]

The relinquishment of the knife wasn't enough to cause any change in Daryl's stance, though he followed the movement with his eyes and made note of exactly where the knife ended up, in case he'd have to kick it out of reach momentarily. Then he was immediately back to watching Rick's face.

Either the situation with Ellis's companion was more dire than he was letting on, or he had to have other weapons somewhere — otherwise it was a damn foolish move, giving up his sole means of protection and defense like this. Each possibility was more concerning than the last. Desperation could drive people to do the most terrible things, and if this guy did have a stockpile of weapons elsewhere — while now knowing the location of their camp — what would prevent him from paying another visit later, to try and take whatever he wanted then?

He was certain Rick was already considering the same things and reaching similar conclusions.

Generally Daryl was still more inclined toward showing mercy than Rick was these days, if it served a practical purpose, but even he had his limits. Trying to deceive them was a gamble that rarely went in the liar's favour.