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

Shepard is famous, more than even Panem can simulate, has been for a long time. More than that, she's infamous, known as much for cruelty and death as she is honor and glory. Life, as always, resists simplicity. So, when she steps out into the kid's view, she therefore expects to be recognized.

That's... not necessarily a good thing, after all.

"Hey--easy, easy," The girl looks like she's one sudden movement away from pissing herself, frozen like a rabbit in the sand, "Don't run. If you run, you have to know that I'm gonna catch you. I am not going to hurt you, kid. I wanna help you out."

She held out her hand, slow, easy, reasonable.

"Come with me, if you wanna live."

Deniera knows who Shepard is, it's hard not to considering how long she's been in the Arenas for. She's almost exactly what Deni's been afraid of since her reaping, what her father warned her about before she boarded the train to the Capitol: a ruthless killer who might have connections to the dangerous rebels who want to destroy the tenuous strands of safety that they have.

She should run, she wants to run, but she can't, gaping at her.

"You're lying," she says, her voice trembling as she takes a step back. "You just want to kill me and think you can lure me into coming quietly. Well, it's not going to work."

"Come on, kid, don't be stupid. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have warned you that I was here, first," She raised her left arm, bruised fingertips and makeshift bandage. See? Not good for a prolonged tussle, "I'd have just hit you with a brick and been done with it. Calm down, and think."

She was going to run, Shepard could see it. The girl had long legs, dancer's legs, and that lithe, graceful build that came with no breasts and a lot of sprinting speed. But Shepard wagered, she was faster, and Deniera would never beat her for stamina.

But, dammit, they didn't have the time!

"You're not going to die, today."

"Damn right I'm not," she says, trying to edge away. All she needs is a good distraction, and she's sure she could run somewhere with enough place that she could curl up in a tight little ball to hide. "You're one of them," she practically spits. She isn't hurling an accusation of being a murderer (well, not quite) at the woman, it's an accusation of something else, something that scares her far more. "I've heard what they do to the girls they steal away, I'd rather die than be used by the people who want to destroy us." Sure, everything she's heard about the rebellion is hearsay that was said to scare them, but it's worked.

She steps back a little bit more, almost like some sort of small, scared animal, not noticing that there's a dip from something (who knows what, and she's not sure she wants to know), that she steps into, falling backwards and losing all sense of grace and poise as she lands on her rear, still trying to desperately try to crawl back, away from her. "My parents would die of shame if I joined them."

"Yes, I am. I'm one of 'them'," It's the clearest she's ever said it, in any context-- ever. Shepard regards Deni very seriously, stepping up, standing over her, looming like the shadow of God, "But I didn't come here by choice, any more than you did. And I don't want to be here. I don't want to hurt you."

Now. Now, relax. Shepard stepped back, just one step, totally inconsequential, but enough to give the image of relaxation. Arms down by her side, easy now, kid, nonthreatening, loose, as if to say, it's up to you. Do what you want.

"Your parents love you. They don't to want to see you dead. Nobody should have to live through that-- not for anything. Now, I'm asking--"

And then she crouched, all the fearful dark gone away, and reached out her hand, to help Deni up.

"I'm trying to be your friend, here. Think about it before you blow me off."

Lightning Strikes Twice

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