Helena G. Wells (
bronzed_future) wrote in
thearena2013-02-01 02:41 am
Entry tags:
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.
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.

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"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.
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"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."
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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."
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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."
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This had to mean Dollhouse tech, didn't it? No actress could call herself HG Wells' forgotten by history sister with a straight face.
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"I don't suppose this means you're a fan?"
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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.
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"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.
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"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.
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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.
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no, i didn't forget about this, what are you talking about?
"It seems," breath, "you have me at a distinct disadvantage, Mr. Alpha."