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?!

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."

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.”

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."