[OPEN] i'm on the hunt, i'm after you

[rediscover]

Who| Anna and you!
What| Week 2 catch-all!
Where| All over the Arena--the castle banquet, the village, the forest, etc.
When| week 2 of the arena.
Warnings/Notes| violence, most likely! Anna will be actively seeking out weakened/unsuspecting Tributes and making more of an attempt to do the whole murder game thing. Hit me up if you'd like a prompt!



It had all started with the parachute. Take the hint, Princess, with initials she didn't recognize, accompanied by a knife and a pair of earplugs. Anna isn't sure who these people are, but she can assume that they're Mentors, which means someone is watching. And wanting her to do things a little differently. And considering her past track record...maybe it's time for her to follow along.

It isn't that Anna wants to kill people, or anything like that. That isn't who she is. But she also knows that after a year, after seven Arenas both big and small, after seven painful and often bloody deaths, she's ready for something to change. And maybe that something needs to be her. So she takes the knife from the parachute and tucks it into her boot, along with the earplugs which go in her right pocket. She isn't exactly sure what they're for, but no doubt they'll come in handy sooner or later.

Okay. They want her to take the hint, she can take the hint. She can play their murder game.

Comments

a. the forest

[rediscover]

The beginning of the week is tough. Anna finds herself growing unbearably warm, the sun beating down on her during the day as she travels across the Arena. Arendelle may be warm in the summer, but she's used to far more moderate temperatures than this, and by the time the heat reaches its peak on the second day, her face is hot and she can tell that her cheeks and nose and shoulders are getting sunburnt, and badly.

Anna retreats to the forest, staying her fears about what might lurk in the shadows by reminding herself that she has a knife, and apparently there are Mentors watching her. Nimbly as she can, she finds herself a roost in the crook of a tree, ignoring the ominous creaking of the limb or the way the tree seems to sway in a breeze that doesn't exist. From here, she has a good vantage point to the ground, as well as sufficient height that she can attempt to spear someone from above using one of her little bundle of wooden stakes.

Just as long as she doesn't drift off in the shade...those bats flying overhead look awfully ominous.

[wickedgoogly]

Rose's bitterness toward the arena has done nothing but grow across the days and weeks. It's here just after the end of the second that she finds herself retreated into the forest again, desirous of cool shade and half-chasing voices that whisper someplace beyond her, voices she knows can't be real because they're not here and her mother is dead--

At least, if it can be called a concession at all, the forest offers her something to fight. When beasts come she puts the long points of her needles into soft spaces, and reminds them they cannot have her yet, that she will not be slain.

Perhaps it's not bitter, but angry.

But she is tired, too, exhausted by the heat and the long days and the simple act of rationing out what food she finds for simple survival. It's too hot, and her wizard robe was not made for the heat, even with the wig and beard long gone. She's abandoned the funny sash that hung around the shoulders, but it means little against the heavy fabric. The sole benefit it's offered is that it's kept her pale skin covered against the glare of the sun, though the backs of her hands still threaten to burn, and she can only stand to keep the hood up so long.

Sweaty and panting from an encounter with something that wanted flesh she would not give, Rose stumbles up to lean against the tree trunk. Her hair is greasy and matted, her face little better, and thoughts of showers or long baths seem like a distant fairy tale. She doesn't yet want to die, but if she does, she'll welcome the chance to be clean again.

[rediscover]

Anna's found that the respite of the forest has done wonders for her mood. Though it's still warm and a bit muggy, the shade is cool enough compared to the heat of the sun that her skin isn't quite so fever-hot, and the cool bark of the tree she's in feels good against her angry, red skin.

Still, she's smart enough not to get lost in her relief, even if her tired body is begging to fall asleep. She has to remain vigilant, she has to...

The tree shivers with the weight of someone stumbling into it, and Anna jolts awake. How long has she been sleeping? She finds she doesn't really want to know. But her body was craving rest, and she's not dead, so maybe it's fine. Maybe.

Holding her breath, Anna leans to the right, just enough to peer down at the ground, to see who or what it is that's near her tree. At first, all she can see is dirty, matted blonde hair. But by chance, a tilt of Rose's face reveals her identity, and Anna gasps.

"Rose," she hisses, leaning over a little more, her braids dangling toward the ground. "Up here."

[wickedgoogly]

She hears a voice, and it's not one of the ones that's been bothering her.

"Anna?" she whispers back, shrewd enough to follow suit. And it is her; she remembers the braids and the shape of her face.

Why she needs to be in the tree she doesn't know, but when Anna helped her earlier she feels little reason to question it. She tucks the needles into her sleeve, through the pierced-in holes through the fabric that keep them secure, then turns to scale the tree. It's not a thing she usually does at all, but she's agile and determined. Between a jump for a low branch and some lucky footholds she makes her way up into the foliage.

It's only once she's settling onto a solid-looking beam that she thinks maybe Anna only meant to draw her attention upward. But then, it's still safer to be both hidden.

"What are you doing up here?" she asks, voice still quiet and likely to stay so.

[rediscover]

Anna's certainly not adverse to the idea of Rose joining her in her perch; it's safer, by far, and less conspicuous than Rose standing on the ground and talking to a tree. She scoots over the make room, keeping her center of gravity low in the crook of the limbs, her few meager supplies bundled together between her knees.

"Trying to stay cool. It's not much, but it's better than being out in the sun," Anna admits. Her face is frecklier than usual, cheeks and nose pink and peeling, along with her exposed shoulders above the wide neckline of her blouse. "Are you doing okay? Did Dave find you?"

[wickedgoogly]

"I am stewing in my robes. I'll be a fine soup by the time this heat passes, if it doesn't kill me first."

Rose tries to take a limb near but separate from hers as she settles, at least wanting to lower the burden to prevent them from crashing into the earth below. It wouldn't be pretty, not between the branches and her needles.

"I miss showers and clean clothes and not smelling like dead animals, but I'm alive and mostly not chewed on, which I suspect is the most I can ask. Dave did find me, yes; we ran into each other in the village not all that long after I left you. We travel together a lot when I haven't slipped off to look at something else."

b. the castle

[rediscover]

By Wednesday, the driving rain has Anna fleeing the forest, finding that the straggly trees do little to protect her from getting soaked. She's weak and she's clearly been bitten by something in the night, and like hell is she going to die of hypothermia, that would basically be the lamest death ever. So she finds herself, against her better judgment, heading for the castle. Stone walls and ceilings will do better to protect her than the soggy, moldering straw roofs in the village, and maybe she can get some solid rest and a meal. Luckily for her, she wanders in halfway through the feast, and her eyes light up, stomach rumbling loudly. Skirting the edges of the banquet hall, avoiding those Avoxes just in case, Anna approaches one of the tables, loading down a plate (and her pockets, and her mouth) with as much food as she can.

Other Tributes will get a wary eye, and if they come too close she has her knife and the spears bundled to her back, but she's not going to start a fight in here unless she has to. After she's eaten her fill, she wanders upstairs to find an empty bedchamber to ride out the storm in, and maybe find a dry change of clothes.

[wizardplease]

Anna is not the only one who has fled inside to avoid the elements, nor is she the only one that is taking advantage of all the food. Haruto is there, too, soggy from the rain and with peeling skin on his face from the previous day's sunburn, more concerned at the moment with stuffing his face than stuffing his pockets. (His pants don't even have pockets. His stylist is a jerk.) It's while he sidles along the table to grab for another crab cake that he accidentally bumps into her.

"Woah!" His first reaction is to jolt and jump away, which jostles the table, which sends a few dinner rolls rolling. "Sorry, I...!" His second reaction is to look at who he ran into, take in all the lovingly prepared weaponry, and apologize harder. "I am so sorry." Please don't be mad and stab him. He is very hungry. While he might have a sword in a makeshift sheath strapped to his waist, he doesn't want to use it now. Not on an empty stomach.

so sorry, my notif for this got deleted!

[rediscover]

Anna jumps as she's jostled by the person next to her; she'd been so busy polishing off a chicken leg that she hadn't even noticed him coming closer. The princess lets out a little yelp, jumping backwards and dropping the chicken bone she's just cleaned off.

"I-it's okay! Just...stay back," she warns, holding out a hand toward him. A hand which holds her knife, and is only shaking a little bit. "I don't want to have to hurt anyone while we're all eating."

It's okay! I got swamped with stuff, too.

[wizardplease]

There are two things to consider here. She is holding a knife and probably not afraid to use it, but she's also scared. She's not inherently the stabbing sort, is she? Both hands up, palms flat, he takes a purposeful step back away (and towards the table). "Neither do I. None of that here. Promise. Alright?" And he offers a smile, pained and anxious but genuine. "I'm not that kind of guy."

Let's hope she buys that. He'd like to get back to eating sooner rather than later. Also, he'd rather remain un-stabbed. The last arena had involved way too much of that.

[rediscover]

Anna takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slowly and steadily. Her nerves are rattled, she has to admit that to herself. She needs to chill out.

"Okay," she replies, lowering the knife. "Okay." Deliberately, she goes to the end of the table and places herself on the other side. It's safer that way. "Sorry. It's...been a rough one."

[wizardplease]

"Alright." He nods slowly, and equally slowly for that crab cake that he'd previously been eyeing. He's not quite letting his eyes off of her, though, not until there's that table between them and the likelihood of an up close and personal acquaintance with those stabby things of hers is much lower. And then he takes a bite and wolfs it down.

"...it's fine. I understand." And then he's half-grinning, pausing before devouring the rest of the crab cake. "Almost worse than the last one. That one started off a little slower." And no more bad attempts at jokes for the moment, for his mouth is full and he's busy chewing.

c. the village

[rediscover]

Once the rain stops, Anna finds herself rested and fed well enough to venture out of the castle--she's uneasy, pent up in a place with limited exits, and with the banquet cleared away she's certain that things won't remain too peaceful, anyway. And anyway, she's eager to impress her new watchers with her best, which means she needs to take a proactive approach.

The mud is awful, but her costume came complete with knee-high, sturdy leather boots, so she picks her way through the mud and rot with less discomfort than some, her folding knife palmed in her hand, ready to flip open at a moment's notice. She's been practicing getting it open and shut quickly in her spare time--which is most of the time--and her previous knife training means she's gotten pretty deft with it, her grip sure and her maneuvering quick.

She pokes her head into buildings as she goes, looking for anything that hasn't already been looted that might be useful, and anyone she comes across will be met with wariness and a ready-to-fight attitude.

[ruffntumblenut]

Stashed away in one of the little run down mud huts is clearly some tributes camp. The smoldering embers of a fire remain in a shallow pit while a lumpy pair of sleeping bags lay wrapped inside one another in the corner. It looks as though they climbed into one sleeping back before wriggling into the second one completely incasing themselves.

The bag however is not moving.

Does she dare investigate?

[rediscover]

Anna's brow furrows slightly at the sight of something lumpy and vaguely sleeping bag-shaped inside one of the houses. It isn't moving, she notices, but that doesn't mean much. Warily, she slips through the rotted door frame, damp and filthy rushes stirring under her feet. She draws one of her wooden spears from behind her back, approaching carefully. Holding her breath, she reaches one arm out, and pokes at the sleeping bag.

[ruffntumblenut]

Nothing, not even a twitch.

Then from behind her a confused voice "Hey...wait aren't you Elsa's sister?"

Ruffnut was standing there looking like tired and pale but still standing and pointing a folding knife at her. She wore half a silver sphere on her head like a helmet, the same kind of silver sphere that sponsors gifts came in. It had been decorated with bandages holding sticks and leaves and weeds.

While she'd been pleased to see someone was distracted by her supplies, she was frowning now suspiciously addressing the Princess. Elsa had been good to her in the arena on multiple occasions and she wasn't too keen on stabbing Elsa's little sister.

[rediscover]

Anna gasps at the sound of a voice from behind her, whirling with her knife in hand and held up in front of her, pointed in just the same wya the other girl has her knife pointed at Anna.

"Yeah, I am," Anna admits warily. "Is this your sleeping bag?" She jabs at the bundle again with her stick.

[shenunigans]

When this Arena began, Dave had high hopes. Well. No. High is probably a little optimistic even for him. His hopes had been mild, but he still manages to feel disappointed with this fantasy fuckery. It stinks, it's plagued and it's a fine example of why history isn't all it's cracked up to be. He feels like he's parading around an episode of that godawful Horrible Histories cartoon, but somehow this is worse.

He's sort of squared away territory by now. Sort of. He moves back and forth, but he often comes back to this little hovel. It's his home now, his moldy, dank and mostly looted home. He's made himself a little comfortable, he's sitting on a rotted chair with his legs up on the rotted table, skirts hitched up to reveal stockinged legs. It is, perhaps, a little too relaxed for an Arena. Thankfully, he has a sword in his hand that he's used to kill rats more than he's needed to defend himself.

His grip on it tightens when he hears the sound of someone entering his home, but he calls out anyway to nip it in the bud. "Pools closed. Fuck off." Yep. That'll learn 'em.

[rediscover]

Anna's found a few inhabited hovels, but usually she backs out the way she came in, unless whoever's inside happens to be weaker than her. But nobody's been nearly so snarky with her, and the sound of Dave's familiar voice has Anna lighting up.

"Wow, nice language, Dave," she snipes, stepping further into the little house with her nose wrinkled. "Would it kill you to pick up around here?"

She's relieved to have found him, snark or no. She'd been worried after he'd run off after Rose, so it's good to have run across him again in better circumstances.

[shenunigans]

Dave's hackles are raised until Anna calls back, he only needs to hear her voice to let himself relax a little more. He doesn't even deign the first part with an answer beyond a snort that speaks volumes about how much he cares for language.

"It probably would kill me, all things considered." He gestures vaguely around before he pulls himself up to get a little closer to her. He isn't going right in for another hug, but he's clearly doing a quick check for injuries and/or hickies.

"You alright?"

[rediscover]

She only giggles at Dave's response, mostly just relieved to see him in one piece. He can't be doing too badly if he's still acting like his usual snarky self, after all. Anna comes forward, submitting to his inspection without wiggling around too much.

"I'm great," she replies, reaching out and taking one of his hands with two of hers. "I've been lucky so far--no injuries. How about you? Did Feferi find you? And Rose?"

Disney Princess, meet Silent Hill Idiot?

[inrestlessdreams]

That willingness to fight might not be such a great idea if the person she meets up with is trying to eke out a living among the remains. James was tired, starving and he was pretty sure the voices were getting to him. Again.

When he spots Anna and her knife, he does the next best thing: raise his hands up and look defeated with what's left of the garish jester costume. Great job, Sunderland, "I'm not looking for a fight."

Because that always works, right?

Yesssss

[rediscover]

As much as Anna's talked herself into being a hardened version of herself, when she comes across a man who looks about as defeated as they come, not at all ready to jump her. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Anna's taken aback momentarily, but she steels herself, standing her ground with her knife still in hand.

"I wasn't either, when I first started here," she says, voice quavering a little bit. "I've died so many times...I'm tired of being the loser."

[inrestlessdreams]

"Sounds like you've had a really rough time..." James murmured and tried to edge away from here, "I'm not too sure I'd have the strength to overcome one death, let alone many. What's your name?"

Hey, if she's that intent on killing him, why not know her name first? Certainly would help ease the pain of dying all over again.

"I'm James, James Sunderland," his voice was as stable as it could be, considering the circumstances

[rediscover]

Anna's fighting her own emotions suddenly, because seeing this stranger looking so weak and defeated is just reminding her of all the times she's probably looked just the same. But she can't give in. She's not going to let herself cry and look weak and lose sponsors. So she edges forward, gritting her teeth.

"Anna," she replies. "You'll--you'll get over it. We all do. Over and over, and--" She paces toward him, praying that if she does this, she'll look impressive enough that someone will want to send her food, or water, or more weapons. "It has to end sometime."