Did you just get beat up by a god?

[allyorfoe]

Who| Tabris and Thor
What| Thor is brain-washed and aggressive, and Tabris is just aggressive.
Where| Somewhere around the pine forest?
When| Beginning of Week 6
Warnings/Notes| Violence, swearing, discussion of death



They're dead. They're all dead. She can't get used to it. Tabris had come there, so sure that this was just another bump of strange mishaps in her life. She'd gather a force, defeat the bad guy, go on. But the force is all dead, save an injured man in mourning, and a child. And the bad guy, the real bad guy, the one who put her here, seems more far away and impossible than she could have imagined. This is no bump for her to get through with a few well placed deaths.

Not that a few well placed deaths wouldn't hurt.

But not against her team, not against everyone that she had known here. Cassandra, a woman as fierce and determined as Tabris could hope to be, Maxwell, who had instantly welcomed her, given her a bow, and taught her to use it. Hawke, with that quick wit and shared knowledge of what it felt like to have the world explode around you, and everyone expects you to clean it up. Even the others, the magister she had been less than kind to, the qunari, and the mage that had dared to give her a view of a world without Tabris in it. Which still probably sucked. Not that a human would care about what life might be like for the elves in that world, versus the one she had suffered for. Stupid shems.

She moved, quietly, slinking along the forest. Her scythe strapped to her hip, she was on the lookout--For food and for enemies. The weather, and lack of people to worry over, meant that Tabris could roam farther away from the camp, and she was eager to get started on culling whoever was left and openly hostile, before they could get to the two in her campsite. She had to protect them, and she was perfectly willing to spill blood over it. That was how she operated, after all. Success was just a swath of dead bodies away.

The elven woman stopped when she heard movement. Grabbing her scythe, she leaned against a tree, peering around. It was hard to discern what direction it was coming from, but it was definitely getting closer.

Comments

[worldsaway]

It's been an uphill battle for Thor so far. He's isolated himself entirely and fended for himself and himself alone. Self care is not his priority, so he cannot help the fact that he grows weary. Somehow, the tiredness just instills an even more vicious drive in him. The Arena is dwindling into the final weeks, he cannot delay in his pursuit of victory. He has everything to prove to the Capitol, to earn his freedom and stay away from the cell that kept him for so long after his insolence in the Arena prior to this.

Anyone he happens upon is a target, without question. He feels no worry or sympathy, he just feels a cold, growing fear and a need to lash out and pull at whatever is binding him to this Arena.

The movement comes from Thor, who had spied her leaving her camp alone and singled her out as a target. The way she flattens is telling and he realises he must have given himself away, but he keeps his approach slow and careful until he's stepping out of the bushes with a casual air and a cold grimace. He wastes very little time sizing her up before he's coming at her with his spear, prepared to try parry that scythe if she swings it at him.

[allyorfoe]

She doesn't bother to ask him if he's friendly or not, because he very clearly isn't feeling sociable. She can't help but smile when he comes at her, because Maker above had she been waiting to find one of these assholes. He could have been the one who killed any number of her friends, and she had been itching to get a chance to cull down the people who would hurt others. She steps forward, readying her scythe, smiling with a predator's grin as she gets in a fighting stance.

Sizing up the man, she notes that he is a trained warrior--A good body structure, excellent, toned muscles. Goddamn, he'd be a fine specimen of a man if he wasn't about to try to impale her (hehehe, impale her) with that spear (HEHEHE, IMPALED WITH A SPEAR...GET IT). He's bulky with muscle, but that bulk can be used against him. Just like facing down an ogre (an ogre with really nice hair).

Once he's charging, she waits until just the right moment, positions her scythe, and...jumps to the side, hopefully fast enough to dodge him. If she can get a good view of his back, she'll be aiming the blunt part of her scythe to deliver a hard jab at his back--bottom of the back, to the side.

[worldsaway]

It isn't just bulk working against Thor with an opponent of her speed. He cannot admit to himself that he's tired, but he is. He can't sleep through nights, not when paranoia is eating at his thoughts and he can't claim a friend to watch over him. He's been fighting since he got here, since before he got here too. From one Arena to prison and back into an Arena again, the stress and exhausting weighs on his bones like the luggage of the world's longest trip abroad.

The spear isn't his weapon of choice, but it moves easily in his hands. It doesn't do well against her speed and he underestimates her. The jab hits and it nearly sends him falling, he manages to spare himself with a stumble and he lashes out at her instead. If he can get her in close range he'll do better, but he'll have to get that scythe out of the picture first.

He's sending fast jabs toward her with the spear, trying to overwhelm her until she can't dodge the strikes.

[allyorfoe]

She manages to dance away, and realizes why people like Zevran had been so adamant about light armor. She was certainly moving faster than she ever had when wearing heavy steel. The man moves with a strange weariness, that doesn't seem to take from how deadly he is. She's on the defense, trying to keep away from that spear, backing as she ducked. But she couldn't do it forever, and she knows it'll only be a matter of time before he aims true.

Gritting her teeth, she sinks her heel into the dirt, and rushes forward, slashing at him with the scythe. She's in the reach of his spear now, but she has to take that risk. Better to step forward and get this fight dealt with than to dodge until you can't, and die.

"Usually, guys ask me out to dinner first." She sneers, more to herself than to him. Unable to really resist a jab, before he gives her one of his own.

She's pretty sure his jab will suck.

[worldsaway]

If Thor understands the joke, he definitely doesn't find it funny. There's no clarity in his expression or any sign that he actually heard her. His focus is entirely on the fight, on her movements. She's fast, and it's frustrating. His exhaustion is weighing him down, and he's not the fastest man even at his peak.

The spear is raised in his hand when she rushes forward, and her brave attack is in her favour. He's too slow to swerve but just fast enough to step back and turn a lethal wound into something only slightly less serious. The scythe slashes across his front and it warrants a roar of pain. Blood is immediately dampening his clothing, but he wastes no time cradling himself or checking himself.

Now that she's in range, it's his chance to strike. He forgoes the spear for his fist, and he isn't afraid to launch a punch to her solar plexus in an attempt to wind her and slow her down more.