thearena | Closed; Helena's First Death

Entry tags:

✘ helena g. wells

Closed; Helena's First Death

WHO| H.G. Wells & Alpha
WHAT| Helena dies, but not without a fight
WHEN| Third Week
WHERE| Near the Cornucopia
WARNINGS/NOTES| fighting and death

She was dying. There was no immediate outward sign of this impending death. Miraculously she'd managed to avoid frostbite and towards the beginning of her arrival into this "game" she'd stumbled upon those horrible sea birds, but inside Helena knew she was dying. In an environment such as this there was only so much a person, even one as smart as she was, could do to survive sane and whole. The brief interaction with her fellow players, or whatever this world called them, did nothing to answer any questions she still had about this world, nor did it offer any solid mental stimulation. No, if she wanted to have any chance at really surviving then she needed to go back to the beginning of this journey and uncover what she could.

It was a slow walk back to the Cornucopia. There was a certain amount of paranoia that she maintained against her fellow survivors; she still recalled those images of the dead that lit-up the night sky her first evening. Finding the pair in the crevasse had been more curiosity on her part than a willingness to actually trust the men. So it was with a careful eye she finally made it back to where she had first appeared. Slowly she examined the small platforms that delivered the players into the event.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alpha was already at the Cornucopia. Behind it, in fact, though previously he had been inside (as much as he could fit) inspecting it for signs of someone using it as a shelter. He didn't see anything, although that could just mean they were good at hiding their traces. He was entertaining the idea of turning it into a shelter for himself. And Howard, he supposed, if the kid continued being reasonably useful.

It would be cramped, even with a snowy extension built on, but Alpha rather liked close spaces for reasons that had nothing to do with those damn pods and it was rare landmark in this Arena, which meant there would be more chance of other Tributes wandering by into Alpha's welcoming arms, simply because there was precious little else to wander by.

And Helena's arrival was good evidence to this theory. He watched her silently for a long moment, while her back was to him, and then he stepped out into the open. "I'd be careful about digging around too much there," he said mildly. "They're not technically live anymore, of course, but explosives can be tricky."

She wasn't startled by the sudden voice, but it did put her on guard.

"Explosives?" Oh, now that's a bit of information that could be useful. "Don't worry, I've dealt with worse." Or, rather, created worse, but that was neither here nor there. Cautiously Helena stood and faced the owner of the voice. Armed.

"Well now, I don't suppose you're here to show me the ropes."

Alpha raised his eyebrows. "Worse explosives, or worse than explosives?" he asked, genuinely curious. He idly rubbed a thumb along the handle of his knife, out more to aid in digging around in the snow than as protection. At least when he was alone.

"I'm very knowledgeable when it comes to ropes and all sorts of things," he said agreeably, trying to decide if he should charge and risk her being faster, or keep the conversation going until they were close enough that he could presumably keep running from being an option.

Helena's smile isn't exactly friendly, but then she felt that maybe this man wasn't here to be her friend at all. It was a given that at some point people would be trying to kill her, she just hoped now was not the time.

"Both."

Oh. Well that opened all sorts of questions in her mind. She shifted to the balls of her feet, ready to attack or run. "Is that an invitation? I don't even know your name."

Alpha returned the smile with one his own, most decidedly friendly. He was good at friendly smiles. "A woman of experience, I can see. Are you sure you need someone to show you the ropes?"

He moved forward, only a step so that he could lean his back on the Cornucopia, rather than his side. He kept his hands visible and nonthreatening as he did so, even adjusting his hold on the knife so that the blade was turned away from Helena. Of course, this made it all the easier to throw, if that became necessary.

"Alpha," he said, "I go by Alpha, generally. And if you didn't know that then you must either be not very concerned about the competition, not enough to look us up anyway, or you're one of the new ones they throw in every now and then to make things interesting."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't say no to the offer."

He's casual and that makes Helena take note, because no one is that perfectly nonchalant. She keeps her smile and her own relaxed state.

"Oh, I think I was one of those brought in to keep things interesting.

"Helena G. Wells."

"I wouldn't be opposed to offering," he said with a grin, eying the distance between them. "And I--" He stopped and his mouth moved for a moment. "...HG Wells? Parents big fans?"

That gets a small laugh. "You've heard of me. Of course I can't take all the credit as I only came up with the ideas; my brother is the one who made my name famous."

Alpha's eyebrow raised again, just the one this time. "You're 'the' HG Wells? Really?" Long dead Old West lawmen were one thing, but a female version of HG Wells? That was a Dollhouse fantasy if he'd ever heard one. "I need to start carrying an autograph book around, if I'm going to keep meeting historical figures."

This had to mean Dollhouse tech, didn't it? No actress could call herself HG Wells' forgotten by history sister with a straight face.

"Really." She was proud her brother had realized his dream of being famous, but she could really do without the disbelief when she met someone new in this time.

"I don't suppose this means you're a fan?"

Actually yes, there happened to be a very skeptical and slightly turned on literati excitedly vying for control in Alpha's head, but Alpha had learned very early on it was never a good idea to let the fanboys have the deciding vote. He just grinned carelessly. "Well, I do try to get some reading in, in between the death arenas, and I enjoy the classics. Although to be honest, some of that technology struck me as a little far-fetched."

He shifted slightly, thinking it might be best to get this woman taken care of soon, fascinating as the conversation was. Once they were both back in the Capitol he could track her down and wrangle up some way to take a peek into that head, but in here, she was really only good for one thing.

Helena laughed softly. "Well, my brother was never good at accurately describing my inventions, but I assure you I've invented plenty of things that was beyond man's understanding of the age."

"Between arenas?" Oh, now there were all sorts of thoughts running through her head. It was possible she was facing a victor, which meant he was either efficient at killing or very lucky, or there was something else going on.

"I was told that this was it; one great fight to the death and the winner goes home." She planned on being that winner because there was so much work she had to do.

"You invented them? You built the machines he described?" asked Alpha, intrigued despite himself. He wondered what would happen if she tried to replicate some of her 'inventions' from memory.

"That's not quite right," said Alpha, shrugging. "They say they'll do their best to get the winners home, but, well, that's not where the Victors go in my experience." So, she didn't know they came back after 'dying'. That made it so much better, when they really believed they were fighting for their lives.

The thought made up Alpha's mind(s) for him. Time to stop wasting time. He raised his empty hand as though he was about to gesture and threw the knife with the other, aiming for Helena's head. It wasn't made for throwing, but it was hefty enough that it would at least leave a mark. As soon as it left his hand he charged.

"Well, I certainly wasn't about to spend my days embroidering." Much to the horror of her family Helena had spent a good many years pursuing manly hobbies and interests.

It was quite lucky for her that she had chosen to occupy herself with things such as learning to fight. As soon as the knife left Alpha's hand, Helena dove to the side, rolling back up to her feet and took a defensive position that at least softened the blow of Alpha's charge.

Alpha bore down on her, aiming to bring her to the ground where he could use his weight to keep her down, though he avoided aiming for anything that could be fatal, not just yet.

He was a smart fighter, but so was Helena. She didn't kick out and scream like other may have. One hand angled towards his left kidney; that hit might make him pee red for awhile. Her other fist went for his jugular, just a quick punch that might make him lose his footing. She didn't want to have to kill this Alpha, but that didn't mean she wouldn't if it came down to things.

Alpha concentrated on blocking the kidney punch, not wanting to deal with the later effects of such a hit, and his attempt to block the jugular hit was a shade too slow by result. He stumbled, choking, but recovered quickly enough, bringing up his arms in case of another attack while he was momentarily vulnerable.

The moment he loosened his hold she bucked her hips up and to the side in an effort to dislodge him. Her next two strikes went for the groin and chest. Already she was breathing hard; it had been too long since she'd had a proper meal or nights sleep and it was catching up to her quickly.

He moved to block both attacks, losing his hold on her as a result. He hadn't expected a fight of this kind from a self-professed engineer from Victorian England, and the parka was hampering his movements, so his hand to hand was stiffer than it should have been. He frowned and lurched forward once again, aiming for a more disabling hold on on of her arms.

Her legs were free, but only for a moment. The chance to break free was missed thanks to slow reflexes. Helena vowed that if she made if back home she would start to train in harsher environments. Her arms were caught by Alpha, but she didn't settle, thrusting her head forward to butt him in the nose.

Alpha took the hit but his grip didn't loosen. He only grinned through the blood streaming down his face now. A high pain tolerance was the least of his many handy traits in the Arena. The blood might became an issue soon, but for now he ignored it and tried to knee her in the stomach, not as hard as he would have liked thanks to the awkward angle.

Her position didn't give her the option of blocking his knee. She was getting tired and now she was more than a little winded, but she didn't want to die like some animal. For a brief moment she continued to fight and then she stopped. Breathing hard and too tired and hungry to force herself to move, Helena just stared at the man above her.

"It seems," breath, "you have me at a distinct disadvantage, Mr. Alpha."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Closed; Helena's First Death

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no, i didn't forget about this, what are you talking about?