thearena | Lightning Strikes Twice

There were no sign ups involved this time, this was an off-worlder idea which means the off-worlders clearly have every desire to see this through; you signed up with your consent. The mission is to be held in the evening, so the morning is spent preparing, stocking up the hovercraft with medical supplies, arming everyone, donning the now familiar all black attire. When the alert is sent out, it's simply to gather in the hanger and begin loading.

As promised, there's no sign of a 13-issued leader involved, it's on the mission team and it's assigned tactical head to lead themselves; all Webb gives the group is a chipper smile and 'Good Luck.'

The sun is just beginning it's descent when the hovercraft leaves the hanger. The flight isn't nearly as long as the one to District 3, but it's long enough that the sun has dipped below the horizon when the hovercraft stops. Stopping doesn't mean landing, however. The team's resident off-worlder pilot comes on over the speaker with given instructions: time to strap up and get ready to do a little sky-diving.

The plan is simple really. Should the hackers do their job, the storms will do as they're told and strike the dome below the hovercraft all at the same time, breaking the barrier and making a hole big enough for the strike team to carry out the rescue. Hackers strapped in and strike team ready to zipline down, the hovercraft's door opens to the windy outside, allowing a wonderful view of the bright flash and deafening crash a minute later as the weather codes carry out their destruction.

Time to move.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It probably says something about Sam that despite the danger and the time limit and everything else, he's feeling pretty good right now. And really, he knows exactly what that something is - but the benefit of being mission orientated is that he doesn't have to give a shit about that right now. This is what he does, what he spent two years in training and a decade in service doing, he's in his element.

Once he hits the surface of the arena, he's moving quickly. The fact that he's back in the fucking arena registers, yeah, but only dimly. This is pararescue, and he spent far longer in that mindset than he did in the arenas.

So his guard's up, but he's not on the offense, and when a figure darts out at him, he immediately ducks down. Sam rolls to the side, springing back up on his feet and taking a few steps back, hands held up as he scans her over. Aemila, District 2, one of the ones who's actually trained for this, and he might have a fight on his hands with her.

"Hey, slow it down, all right? We're not here to hurt you, we're here to get you out of here."

He dodges out of the way and she has to admit to herself that it's impressive and she falters when her knife doesn't hit anything solid. In response, he backs up and so does she, but her knife is still up between them.

"You and the rest of your stupid rebel friends, Sam Wilson?" She remembered him, he'd been alright at first, but there were times when what he did in the arena had been questionable. He'd always been so entertaining and charming outside of the arena, though...she'd kind of liked that charm, someone she wouldn't have minded talking to. But then he'd vanished and now that he was here, well, she wasn't stupid.

"You just broke the fucking ceiling, I know why you're here, I don't want to be rescued!"

Edited 2015-10-20 01:22 (UTC)

She's wary, and yeah, he was expecting that. He keeps his hands up, not going for either his gun or his knife, watching her closely for any sign that she's going to try to attack him again.

He can't help but give an amused snort at her 'stupid rebel friends' comment. She recognizes him, and he isn't sure if that's good or bad, but he'll roll with it. "A decent number of 'em, anyway, but just me right now."

Of course she doesn't want to be rescued. He raises an eyebrow at her protest.

"And I wanna listen to Marvin Gaye without the Capitol embellishments, but you and I both know a lot of times, the world doesn't give a shit about what we want and we gotta make the best of what we got. This case? You get staying alive, and I get not having to watch you die when I could've done something about it."

Edited 2015-10-20 04:26 (UTC)

"I'm not going to die, I'm going to win!" She practically growled it at him, her body tensing again as she prepares to move one way or another. She was thinner than when she'd started and there were cuts and bruises all over her, including the long gash in her thigh and hip that she'd tried to tend to as well as she could. She wasn't doing so well...but she wasn't about to give up either. She had to win, there wasn't another option.

She shifted her weight and darted forward, hoping to land a cut on an arm if not Wilson's chest, anything to throw him off guard.

"If you really believed that, you would've run by now." But he isn't really looking to argue with her, not right now. If he wasn't on a time limit, maybe he'd try to convince her to come with him of her own violation, but as it is? Yeah, he's looking to grab and run right about now.

And he can tell she's gearing up for a fight, as she tenses and shifts her weight, and he waits until she darts towards him. Then he dodges to the side, just enough that her knife glances off his chest, and attempts to take advantage of her movement to grab her wrist, digging his fingers into the pressure points there to try to make her open her hand and drop the knife.

"Shut up!"

She thought for sure she had him, but then he's got her wrist and she can feel her hand letting go of the knife involuntarily and she growls angrily. The grip's too tight to simply wrench free without a little help, so a little help is what she gives herself.

A slightly painful twist of her own arm and she brings her other hand up to throw a punch right into his face.

He'd known that he was leaving himself open to attack by grabbing her hand like that, and he's prepared for it - but only enough for him to shift a little to take the punch on the side of his cheek instead of in the eye or to the nose.

Sam hisses in pain, but doesn't let that slow him down. He ducks down, ramming his shoulder into her diaphragm - hoping both to knock the wind out of her and to be able to pick her up and keep her tossed over his shoulder as he straightens.

She wasn't expecting the retaliation and his shoulder slams into her and pushes all the air out of her lungs. Her deadweight hangs on his shoulder like a rag doll as coughs choke her in an attempt to refill her lungs.

"Asshole!" Her voice wasn't nearly as biting as her tone.

She flailed around in an attempt to break free but her angle was terrible and he was simply stronger than her. It was a bad combination.

"I hope your damn hovercraft crashes."

Edited 2015-12-06 23:36 (UTC)

Lightning Strikes Twice

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