dreadinquisitor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2015-05-26 01:25 pm
dreadinquisitor) wrote in thearena2015-05-26 01:25 pm
Mountains are crumbling like statues of clay.
Who| The Thedosians & Friends
What| Reuniting and Planning
Where| In the area of the Cornucopia
When| Late evening/night, the first night
Warnings/Notes| Open to all Thedosians and allies who are interested in reuniting post-Cornucopia and plotting out next moves together. This will function like the War Room posts in the Capitol: tag Maxwell, enter into the "planning" catch-all starter, or talk amongst yourselves! If you'd rather your character remain separate, feel free to say they missed this!
Maxwell convinced Shepard to wait until the sun began to sink before he made his move. It had been hours since they'd tucked themselves into the little, bowed house at the edge of the village. Longer still since the troll-child, Karkat, had passed.
The sounds of the blood-bath at the makeshift Cornucopia had faded and died, and an eery hush had fallen, broken only rarely by speech. Far more often it was the house, creaking and groaning around them, squeaking beneath them as they moved about, spending the last of their adrenaline and rage and worry in pacing and checking the ramshackle rooms for anything that might be of use.
There wasn't much. A dirty, chipped cup. A few rusted utensils. A straw-hewn bed, torn full of holes by rodents and an old blanket, still wet green with mold in the folds of the fabric. But without knowing how the Cornucopia went for the others, it was difficult to pass up anything.
Piling it together, they'd waited. Then, finally, Maxwell moved.
As the sky had began to shift from ashen grey, to steel, and then slowly to coal, he clambered onto the sill of one of the open windows and hauled himself as carefully as he could up onto the roof. The wood complained and sank threatening beneath his boots, but it held.
He'd wrapped the silly little cap Jolie had given him around the Anchor to try and disguise it, but he unwrapped it then. The others from the Inquisition would know it for what it was, he was certain, and hopefully the rest would have heard enough about it or were with someone who had.
Holding up his arm, he opened his hand and the ghostly green light spilled free.
What| Reuniting and Planning
Where| In the area of the Cornucopia
When| Late evening/night, the first night
Warnings/Notes| Open to all Thedosians and allies who are interested in reuniting post-Cornucopia and plotting out next moves together. This will function like the War Room posts in the Capitol: tag Maxwell, enter into the "planning" catch-all starter, or talk amongst yourselves! If you'd rather your character remain separate, feel free to say they missed this!
Maxwell convinced Shepard to wait until the sun began to sink before he made his move. It had been hours since they'd tucked themselves into the little, bowed house at the edge of the village. Longer still since the troll-child, Karkat, had passed.
The sounds of the blood-bath at the makeshift Cornucopia had faded and died, and an eery hush had fallen, broken only rarely by speech. Far more often it was the house, creaking and groaning around them, squeaking beneath them as they moved about, spending the last of their adrenaline and rage and worry in pacing and checking the ramshackle rooms for anything that might be of use.
There wasn't much. A dirty, chipped cup. A few rusted utensils. A straw-hewn bed, torn full of holes by rodents and an old blanket, still wet green with mold in the folds of the fabric. But without knowing how the Cornucopia went for the others, it was difficult to pass up anything.
Piling it together, they'd waited. Then, finally, Maxwell moved.
As the sky had began to shift from ashen grey, to steel, and then slowly to coal, he clambered onto the sill of one of the open windows and hauled himself as carefully as he could up onto the roof. The wood complained and sank threatening beneath his boots, but it held.
He'd wrapped the silly little cap Jolie had given him around the Anchor to try and disguise it, but he unwrapped it then. The others from the Inquisition would know it for what it was, he was certain, and hopefully the rest would have heard enough about it or were with someone who had.
Holding up his arm, he opened his hand and the ghostly green light spilled free.
no subject
He was one person. Likely to die anyway. If he could spare the others, if he could.... His eyes closed and he shook his head, pushing out a long breath.
"Go. I promise I'll keep put if it means that much to you."
no subject
Also, you'd have to probably kill her to separate her from Alistair.
"Thank you, Maxwell. You're the best, you know that?"
no subject
It always good to know someone cared. Good to have a reminder that he wasn't what they wanted, he still belonged.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he hugged back.
"But it goes by ways, Tabris. You be careful or I'll have Dorian bring you back just so I can tell how disappointed I am."
no subject
She turned back to him, and put her hands on her waist. "Alright, we'll both try not to die like assholes. Sounds fair enough to me."
no subject
"He's a bit of a fan, yes," he said. "But at least you can say for certain he doesn't sleep with them."
Jokes at the expense of his own love life, that was a good step right?
That'd make everyone think he was alright.
Turning back, he offered what he hoped was an easy, comforting smile.
"Be safe, Tabris."
no subject
She smiles back at him, reaching out to pat his arm. "You, too, Maxwell. I mean it. I know...there's a good chance we're gonna kick the bucket, but at least we can ride out in a blaze of kickass glory, right?" She didn't plan on winning--Didn't want to win. But she did want to have the arenas not be awful, and that meant sponsors. And she had her ego to consider. She wasn't going to roll over and give up, not ever.
no subject
"That is, apparently, what we're here for. We might as well make the most of it."