[open]

[mudbloodhater]

Who| Draco Malfoy and anyone nearby
What| Draco fell into a crevasse, and he can't get up. Except that he totally can.
Where| a crevasse!
When| throughout the second week
Warnings| language and death

Draco wasn't finding this Arena nearly as bad as the last few. Perhaps because he'd actually made an attempt at things. An attempt at the Cornucopia - he'd received more supplies than he knew what to do with; an attempt at an alliance - he'd sadly lost Wyatt one evening after he'd found Momoko, but it was the point of the thing; an attempt at killing - Howard had sustained injuries that he hadn't expected himself to manage. It was an Arena of firsts, and though something deep inside him shivered at the thought of killing another Tribute in cold blood, despite having already done it the last time around, he was starting to get the hang of this.

Still, there was something so much more civilised about the Capitol, he thought. And without the illness of the last Arena to drive him around the place in search of people, Draco had found himself currently holing out in a crevasse. He heard people going by every now and then, but he had all the supplies he needed, suddenly grateful that he hadn't wasted his canned goods in the first few days like he'd thought he might.

It was only when he reached out for a can that evening and had it fly to his hand without prompt (though perhaps an internalised Accio can) that he realised maybe this Arena wasn't so bad at all.

Comments

[closed to Howard]

[mudbloodhater]

It was a couple of days after he'd initially found himself in there. He'd gotten the grasp on some of his more basic magic, though it was pretty obvious that he'd need his wand in order to do much else. He was hoping, in the back of his mind, that one of the sponsors had seen him practicing by himself and would take pity on the poor demagicked wizard with the pretty blond hair sometime soon. At the very least, he'd figured out how he could levitate himself back up and out of the crevasse, though it had taken the better part of a day to manage.

Finally, he'd done it, and once he had, he didn't really plan on going back down there, not for the amount of effort it had taken. So with that, he'd set up camp just at the edge, wrapping himself up in his sleeping bag, his pack stuffed far down at his feet to protect it from anyone who might think he was an easy mark.

Re: [closed to Howard]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

It's colder at night. That much should have been obvious to Howard, but it still manages to surprise him how frigid it is. The snow has soaked through his boots, melting around his feet and ankles, making each step feel like walking on broken bones. His nose has been intermittently bleeding again, leaving frozen tracks down over his mouth and chin. Occasionally he licks at it, but that means breathing through his mouth, which is slightly more painful than breathing through his nose in this weather. His underfed body doesn't have any built-in protections against the cold, and even in Eponine's discarded layers he worries he's shivering away all the weight he gained back.

But he can't find a place to hide and sleep now. He's lost track of Alpha and Sigma. He doesn't know where they are. But what bothers him more is that he's lost Eponine, and he's furious with her no matter where she is. If she's being pampered back at the Capitol, he's jealous, angry at her for 'cheating' her way there. If she's dead for good, he's livid with her for being so stupid as to think the sponsors would approve of suiciding your way out. It's the anger and the fact that moving keeps one from freezing to death that keeps him fumbling around through the dark, sleeping bag on his back and rope tied around his waist and shoulders.

He only stops when he gets near the edge of a gulf in the ice. It yawns open as if threatening to devour the landscape and anyone careless enough to get close. He starts walking along the side of it, but stops as he sees a dark figure, not jagged enough to be a rock. A sleeping bag. He knows Sigma had one, so he gets closer, trying to see if he can make out who it is or if they've already frozen to death. He doesn't want to kill anyone, but he'll happily scavenge, even steal.

But his mind changes when he approaches enough to see a wisp of blonde hair against fair skin. All that anger he was directing at Eponine finds a new victim - not just for the injury in his side or petty conflicts over spilled drinks, but because he recognizes Draco from what Eponine told him, of having her throat cut and her killer not even feigning the proper respects afterwards. Howard may have called her cannon fodder, but surely Draco proved it.

It's some kind of mad impulse that makes him move forward, not even sure what he'll do next. Maybe he'll slash Draco's sleeping bag to ribbons. Maybe he'll take any belongings Draco has. It's foreign to Howard, the desire to hurt someone, out of malice rather than panic or defense. His mind conjures up satisfying scenarios, of forcing Draco to strip down as Eponine had to freeze in his underwear, or just of making Draco afraid, very afraid of the knife at his throat, of playing with Draco's fear like a child with spray-string - and some part of Howard's head, underneath the fear and stress and pain and sleeplessness, says no, no, you're not a violent person, what are you doing?

He grabs the drawstring to Draco's bag and pulls it tight on his fist, sealing Draco's limbs from motion. The knife, streaked with blood from sea birds, goes up against Draco's throat. He lays his knee on Draco's side to discourage struggling.

"Wake up."

[mudbloodhater]

He wasn't exactly in a deep sleep, but it had been deep enough. Deep enough that he hadn't heard Howard coming, hadn't heard the crunch of footfalls against the packed snow. His sleeping bag was remarkably warm, and though he'd been grateful for it before, he was even more so now, when it almost completely kept out the cold. He was almost downright warm. Certainly, he'd have gotten a better sleep if he'd stayed down below, in the crevasse, able to finally feel his magic running through his veins again instead of damped, the way it was up here, but there was only so much he could ask for.

Draco woke up with a jolt, eyes suddenly flying open and wide as he gaped as his assailant. The first instinct was to reach for his wand - useless; he didn't have it here - the second, to go for his harpoon. Just as useless; the way that Howard had his bag sealed left but his face uncovered, left to the open nip of the air. Fear lingered for a moment before being eclipsed by pure, unadulterated anger. Every time he met up with this man - boy, he was realising - one of them had to come out on top, and it was fairly obvious who it would be this time.

He was already starting to plan out the horrid things he'd do to Howard when next he got the chance. In the Arena or out of it. All he needed wa a Sponsor, his magic back, a wand, and he'd be fine. Howard wouldn't know what hit him.

He didn't say anything at first. The knife at his throat dissuaded it, and it wasn't like he had anything to say.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard's tone is angry in some attempt at intimidating, but there's a certain high-pitch to it, a certain tremor and accelerated pacing, the uncertainty that comes from someone who is neither entirely in control nor sure what they're about to do.

"Remember me? I hear you don't remember all the skinny kids you stab." His eyes dart to the dark knife against Draco's pale throat. It's not even a very sharp knife. He'd have more luck stabbing than slicing, and the idea makes him want to vomit. He tries to push it aside.

Robbery. He can go with just robbery. Leave Draco helpless and half-clothed and let the elements take him. That's entirely different than murder, right? And is that what Eponine deserves, a half-hearted revenge?

Who cares what she deserves. She's the one who willingly left. The blade of the knife is shaking in Howard's hand; Draco might even be able to feel it against his neck.

His eyes travel down the sleeping bag to the feet. "What do you have in the bag?"

[mudbloodhater]

"Hard to forget you. You're such a prick, I think it'd be rather hard," Draco retorted, voice absolutely even save the spitting venom that just came naturally to him. Briefly, he wondered if he could somehow flip the pair of them down the crevasse again, and Summon something to knock Howard out. But the chances of that going well - especially with him in the bag like that - were slim to none.

He could feel the blade's tremble against his throat. It was hard to miss. All it did was tell Draco that, on the off-chance he could get out, get to his weapon, he might have a shot.

"My body," he replied, tone dry and annoyed. It was a lie, but one that sold well. "What the fuck do you think I have in here?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard's spent most of his life being called much worse. He doesn't even flinch; if anything, Draco's lack of fear stokes the rage in him further, enough that it begins to overpower the anxiety. "I wonder what it feels like. Stabbed in the neck. Eponine said it hurt, but I guess you wouldn't really care what she thought, right?"

He looks back to Draco's feet and laughs. It's a strange hyaena-like sound, lacking entirely in humor and packed with nervous excitement. "Yeah, right. You're not that tall."

[mudbloodhater]

He just rolled his eyes at that, huffing a breathless sigh of annoyance, swallowing against the knife. It pressed against his Adam's apple, cutting a barely there line into his skin, hardly enough to cause more than minor irritation.

"No, of course not. I didn't tower over you last time around or anything," Draco snapped, wondering how it was that he was about to get taken out by an absolute moron.

[itsananimalthing]

While staying in one place was one's best bet in the snow, it was also mighty boring for all involved. So Riddick ventured out of his hole in the snow to explore at dawn and dusk, when it wasn't too bright but wasn't too cold. He found the crevices, but didn't try to climb into one until he spotted a familiar blonde head at the bottom of it.

"Somebody looks cozy," he called down, trying to make his tone sound amiable despite having to yell. He had his goggles on and was snug in his coat and hood, with the remains of his food and his firestarting kit tucked away in various pockets and layers, but Draco looked even snugger down there.

[mudbloodhater]

Draco was snug down there. Incredibly so, with his pack set neatly against the wall, his harpoon stuck into the ice (though not so deep that he couldn't whip it at the nearest threat), and him tucked away safe and sound in his heavy sleeping bag. So heavy, in fact, that it almost reminded him of his bed at home when he closed his eyes. Nothing like nostalgia.

For a moment, when he heard Riddick's voice high above him, he was concerned, nervous that he was going to get ambushed; when he realised it was only Riddick, he smirked a little, shimmying out of the sleeping bag a little bit. "You have no idea. I daresay I'm almost warm down here," he called back.

[itsananimalthing]

"Lucky you," Riddick shot back, amused. "Look downright comfy. Where'd you get all that shit? Finally got somebody to like you?" Or was he benefiting from a lucky Cornucopia run? Riddick still shunned that place, but then, he'd also been gifted a few things in the meantime, so he was doing at least relatively well without it so far.

[mudbloodhater]

"I finally took on the Cornucopia, wouldn't you know it," he grinned a little, finally pulling himself out of the thing, shivering a little as the warmth it provided slowly seeped out of his body. "That place was good for something after all."

Just like these crevasses were good for something. Draco held out one hand towards his pack once he was up on his feet and stretched out properly, muttering an emphatic 'Accio backpack' under his breath. Maybe he wasn't quite up to snuff quite yet, but he had practiced just enough to warrant the pack flying towards him, letting him catch it out of the air gleefully. That was much better.

[itsananimalthing]

Riddick's brows went up over the tops of his goggles, watching the bit of magic that Draco just performed. "That's a neat trick," he commented blandly. He wasn't at all sure how the kid had done that. He'd heard rumors of psychics, and of powers that elementals had, but he'd never actually seen any of it in action.

[mudbloodhater]

"It's not a trick. It's magic." Draco sounded more than a little pleased with himself, smug that the Arena had given him something this time around. He recognised awe when he saw it, and wondered to himself why they didn't let Muggles know about the wizarding populace if that was the reaction. That was almost downright ego-stroking, the way Riddick seemed interested, however blandly. There had to be some interest, or else he wouldn't have said anything at all.

"Something about the crevasse, I think."

[luckofthedevil]

Even though he rather liked his snowbank snowcave, Alex spent most of his free time looking for crevasses to explore. If he could find one with a nice ice cave, he'd move camp there. Less chance of someone accidentally stepping through his roof. By the second week he'd started climbing down into some of the more shallow crevasses and using those to get into the deeper ones. That's how he stumbled upon Draco one afternoon, rounding a bend in one of the narrow crevasses and realizing he wasn't the only one down there.

[mudbloodhater]

Draco, at that particular moment in time, was practicing his magic. He'd found fairly quickly that he could use it down there - why, he hadn't the slightest, but he wasn't about to complain. Not when it meant that he could feel normal (if a bit cold) for a little while. In fact, he wouldn't mind just hanging around in there forever, if possible.

Practicing magic, in that moment, meant that the blond was carefully levitating things. Such as himself. The charm, learned back in first year, was fairly basic for him, more than capable without his wand, though it was taking far more effort than usual. Still, magic was magic, and he was about two feet off the ground, keeping the spell firm in his head as he concentrated on it. He barely even noticed Alex rounding the corner.

[luckofthedevil]

Alex had taken off his eyegear as the glare wasn't as bad down in the crevasses, but he still stopped, blinked, and shook his head when he caught sight of someone seemingly floating in mid-air. All the snowglare must have affected his vision, made him see things.

But then he caught sight of the supplies. So even if the light was somehow acting funny, that really was another Tribute.

[mudbloodhater]

Draco frowned to himself as he focused on getting up another foot off the ground, still blissfully oblivious to Alex's presence. He managed it, slowly but surely, only catching a glimpse of the other Tribute as he accidentally levitated himself a little too much on one side, nearly putting himself off-balance. And then he was off-balance, surprised by the fact that he was no longer alone, and dropping to the ground rather painfully as his concentration broke off.

He fell with a shrill yelp, wincing when he hit the bottom, and shot a prompt glare off at Alex, finally recognising him. "You again. You're still alive?"

[luckofthedevil]

Alex's eyebrows shot up as the other Tribute fell. Maybe he was hallucinating, but he'd never been this creative before. Or maybe there was just an ice shelf behind this guy and he'd simply slipped off of it. There was a logical explanation for everything (except for how Alex had ended up in this Panem in the first place).

Unbidden, a small smirk tugged at his lips as he recognized the other Tribute's voice, and the cold glare.

"Is that so difficult to believe?"

[mudbloodhater]

"Only a little bit, I suppose," he replied, groaning as he pushed himself upright slowly, rubbing the bruised area lightly with a wince. Rising up to his feet, Draco eyed Alex casually, warily. It wasn't that he was moving towards his harpoon with any sort of malice - he just wanted to be sure that he was safe.

"Have you been down here long?"

[rea_norton]

After she had been beaten by Javert, Andrea had stumbled as far away as she possibly could, before collapsing in the snow, her ribs aching.

"Oh my lord." Andrea sighed, clutching at her rib. She had no idea what to do now. She had no idea where to get a weapon from, or where to find food. Andrea's definitely a city girl and has no experience with foraging at all.

But what was that? Andrea focused on the figure in the distance - that wisp of blonde hair above pale features. Who was it?

Andrea forced herself to her feet and moved as quickly as she could towards Draco. And when she was close enough to see his face, she stopped dead, her mouth open.

Draco Malfoy - as large as life and twice as good looking as the film showed him. NO WAY.

Andrea couldn't even think of what to say - she just stared at perhaps one of her most favourite people in the whole of the literary world.

[mudbloodhater]

Draco had managed to float himself up out of the crevasse with only minor difficulties. It was exhausting, certainly, forcing him to expend far more energy than he usually wanted to. Not that floating himself up that far would have been easy, but at least he wouldn't have been forced to scramble and clamber up over the edge of the crevasse once he got even with it. He'd learned the hard way that his magic only worked while he was in the thing, and not a moment later.

But he'd finally gotten out, back up to the ground, and by the looks of it, he sort of wanted to just climb back in there. He'd dropped onto his back for a moment, catching his breath before starting to push himself back up to his feet, the pack hanging heavy from one arm as he caught a glimpse of Andrea and froze.

[rea_norton]

"Oh My God!" Andrea gasped as she moved as quickly as she could towards Draco. She probably looked a right sight, with long pink and black hair flying and dark red lipstick mingling with black eyeliner on her powdered white cheeks. The various studs and rings that hang from her face too, probably didn't help her image.

She came up to him, her hands outstretched to demonstrate her lack of weapons.

"Are you really him? This is amazing... Can you really do magic? Show me!"

[mudbloodhater]

As if it wasn't bad enough that he had a Tribute out of nowhere suddenly coming at him like a wayward charm, he was so taken off-guard that he couldn't help the yelp of surprise as she suddenly flew towards him with such enthusiasm that he thought she might have been insane.

Draco'd managed to get up to his feet, taking a few steps back as she approached so he was very nearly at the edge of the crevasse, his bag a few feet away.

"Excuse me?"

[rea_norton]

Be amazed. Be excited. This is about the only time Rea will ever be excited!

"You're Draco Malfoy!"

Andrea grinned; it looked slightly demonic with all of her smeared makeup.

"I'd know you anywhere, there's no point denying it. Will you show me some magic?"

[mudbloodhater]

"Well, I- Yes? I am?" He replied finally, trying to wrap his head around where this girl would have heard of him. Especially if she was a Tribute - that meant she couldn't possibly be from the Capitol; she wouldn't have seen him in action before. Still, it wouldn't do to just ignore her just yet, not when he could easily get a potential companion out of this. He cleared his throat, straightening up a little, "I mean. Yes. I am."

The request to see his magic had him glancing back to the crevasse, then back to her. "I can't," Draco started, a sneer already tugging at his lip, disdainful of the Capitol again, "Not unless I'm down there."