thearena | the black freighter with a skull on its masthead

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the black freighter with a skull on its masthead

Who: Asha and you!
What: Exploring the waters like any good Ironborn would.
Where: Around the Rivers of America/Tom Sawyer's Island area!
When: Sometime in the first week! Feel free to find her on the ships or the island or even in the general area, whatever's easiest.
Warnings/Notes: She doesn't know people come back once they die, and I'd like it to stay that way if possible! As a result, she'll also probably be more hostile.

She had to find a weapon, but more importantly, she had to find water. Not just for drinking-- she had gone longer with less, and when she finally manhandled her containers open to find food inside, it became less of a problem-- but because she was Ironborn, and she needed water under her. Besides, even if she can't find a weapon, at least she'll be able to die by the sea.

It was no sea she found, but the little pisspot of a river was better than the swamp she had passed by. The bogmen were not kind to her nuncle, and she saw no reason for them to be any kinder here. There were boats and an island and at least some sort of underwater hall, presumably, and that was enough for her. Her cans were lighter after she had feasted on one, enough that she felt confident that the little sling made out of her cape would hold, and she had torn away enough of the foreign dress to maneuver, so she hauled herself onto the wreck of the ship. It smelt rotting and pathetic, but at least they were boat smells.

"Perhaps I'll name you Ugly Bastard, to match my brother and his," she told the ship, once she got her footing on the perched deck, and set off to see what she could find.

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Sandy had been lurking in the area ever since she discovered her powers worked here. So when she spotted someone passing through she remained in her hiding space until they had passed. But curiosity was a powerful force in the mind of a ten year old girl, and any distraction was better then ruminating on her situation.

So as quietly as she could she followed the woman to the ships and once she saw the woman scale her way along the fallen timbers she held back apprehensively.

She would watch for a moment longer, the water had made her nervous ever since she realized she'd never seen any of the ducks go near it.

She felt a prickle down the back of her neck like she was being watched-- not an unfamiliar sensation since arriving here, with foreign buildings and rumble staring down at her from all over. Perhaps they were forgotten brutal gods watching over their territory, like the bloody weeping trees-- but there were few trees here, and none like the Northerners' godswood.

She turned anyway, searching for a watcher, before frowning at herself for acting paranoid. "Are you here then?" she asked the water, half jokingly. "If so, I could use a weapon."

He Who Dwelled Beneath The Waves did not answer, just like always.

Sandy considered letting the woman continue on in silence but her mouth had always been quick to speak and before she could weigh her options the scruffy child called back. "Is that why you're up there? Trying to find a pirate sword or something?"

She herself had been longing for the comfort of her ice axe from the last arena, but having her powers back felt like a fair trade.

She turned again at the sound, covering up her surprise with a lazy smile as she scanned the surroundings for the speaker. A child, judging by the voice; to call out when she had the advantage, she was either very confident or very naive.

"I'm no pirate yet, just looking for a weapon to silence nosy little girls with."

Sandy actually laughed at that. "I'm hardly the most important target around here." The idea that anyone would even bother wasting their time going out of their way to kill her was laughable. At least this early in the game when there were a few people left it made more sense.

"Maybe not, but if only one can win, every target matters." Especially if they are so hard to find. She searched around the field, leaning carefully against the rotting railing of the ship like she was just making lazy conversation. If the little girl could just keep her mouth shut, she might make winning this game more difficult.

It was terrible, putting such people in here in the first place.

Sandy decided not to make herself an easy target in case the girl found a rifle or something and shifted her skin to stone, tucking her arms behind her back so she could be mistaken for a statue.

"Trust me. I don't matter. I think the only people who matter around here are the bloodthirsty killers happy to play the game."

Of course there would be some who enjoyed this. She wasn't surprised; if half of the people from her home were here, they would probably be the same way, never mind that there was no honor in killing noncombatants. There was a difference in doing a thing because it was your duty and doing it because you enjoyed it; she had made a promise to her brother, and she would keep it, even if she had to kill everyone else here.

"Point me in their direction and I'll make short work of that," she boasted with a cocky grin, though it fell away into something softer and more sincere. "And I could do it painlessly, if you'd prefer."

Sandy's face fell and the silence stretched out long enough that Asha mighwonder if she had left. Finally she spoke up once more, her voice subdued.

"Wow...I can't believe I actually considered that...that's really sad." But the truth of the matter was she'd rather a painless death then fear and panic and pain.

But could she really just...quit?

She waited a moment before moving to explore the deck, letting the offer hang in the air as she stepped to judge the soundness of the boards. Nothing worth pulling up and ruining her hands for, but it should be safe to cross if her weight doesn't shift the boats.

"There are things much worse than a painless death," she said once the girl spoke up again, though she didn't stop in what she was doing. Her family had learned that lesson too well of late. "You just have to know your odds."

The words rang in her ears almost deafening her.

"All I know is the odds aren't in my favor right now." Sandy grumbled and then louder, "And if I take the easy way out the people who actually like me for whatever reason would be really disappointed."

And they had spent alot of money to keep her alive so far.

She couldn't help but laugh, oddly fondly. She had to admire that sort of attitude, even in such a hopeless situation... if only things could end differently. "That's as good a reason as any. Then I wish you luck, and maybe your odds will increase."

She might have to kill her yet, but she wouldn't chase her down for it, not now. It was too humanizing now.

"You too. If anyone's gonna win around here it should be someone decent. Not one of those psychopaths who actually enjoys this crap." Preferably not anyone who would willingly kill her.

"Don't fall in the water. The ducks don't even go in the water. I think there's a reason."

"That means a lot. I'll be sure to include it in my victory speech," she said cockily. After all, she'd either win or die trying; there was no sense in sounding less confident.

She gave the water a good look, then smiled. This just got more interesting, and she'd spend some time figuring it out. "Then it's a good thing I don't fall."

She couldn't help it. There was something she liked about the woman's attitude. Also the not trying to kill her thing.

"What are you gonna do when you win? Coach other tributes?"

So was that what would be expected of her? Sending more people in again and trying to help them not die? Ha, not likely.

"I promised my brother he'd see my babe at my breast, and I'm keeping that promise." And if not, the best she can give him is a painless death-- and all her hopes of stopping her uncle die with him. "I've my own problems to handle."

"Your brother is here?" Sandy exclaimed in surprise. "That blows!" In probably the most passionate thing she'd said since they had started this conversation.

There was silence for a second as she let that sink in, then burst out laughing, the meaning obvious even if the words weren't. "No, thankfully, or he'd be dead already and making a liar out of me, and I do so hate to lie to my brother."

Considering what condition she found him in, he wouldn't have made it past the first few minutes, if he was here. She could be thankful for that, at least, though it would probably be less painful than burning. "But the longer I'm away, the closer he is to getting himself killed, so I'd appreciate a bearing towards your psychopaths."

Sandy had to consider the term "Bearing" before she could assist, "Well one of the worst of them is this square head guy with glowing eyes. They call him Wesker. He was hanging out in the graveyard but I think he went back towards the middle of the park." She didn't know where most of the major threats were but they weren't near her so that was a good start.

"And if my powers work...probably other peoples powers work too. Do you have powers?" Remaining only half hidden she kept glancing along the ship.

"Glowing eyes?" What sort of creature glowed, besides Stannis's shadows beyond the wall? But if it was the same, she could defeat it easily; she'd heard enough stories of the great cleansing power of fire to know how to solve those problems.

But all this about powers... "Do they allow mages as young as you? Perhaps my dear nuncle was hiding that from me, if his sorcerers were all little girls. I need no powers, just the strength of my ax and the salt in the air." Though she was lacking both for the moment.

Sandy couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at the complete misunderstanding of what Sandy had said.

"I'm not magic. I'm a metahuman. And no one allows metahumans we just...happen." Though that wasn't entirely true and that brought some salt to an old wound she had almost forgotten.

"Anyway an Ax would be great if you're gonna go after the bigger guys. I saw one of them kill a guy with one hand. Just...SNAP and he was done."

Metahumans? What a strange term-- but it had meaning for the girl, at least, and she could follow along easily enough.

"Metahumans, then, though as I'm still not one it makes no difference." Metahuman or not, she would handle those who came for her, or else die trying.

She grinned wickedly again. "What if I told you I've done the same to many a man?"

Sandy made a sound of being impressed and shyly smiled.

"I'd ask you to show me how." Not that she'd ever kill someone like they did. But self defense was starting to seem like a more reasonable option for murder.

She snorted, though she still looked amused. "Might not want to phrase it like that, girl, as the only one around to demonstrate on."

Sandy froze, and if she wasn't made of stone she knew her face would be red.

"N-not like that! Geeze." But even she had to smirk because it was stupid of her to have said it.

She outright laughs, then, but it's the same feeling of slight regret she had with the She-Bear; too uncomfortable when she could very well have to kill the girl anyway.

"I'm not a safe woman to follow, so I'm afraid you won't be seeing it at all."

"I'd rather be following you then have you following me." Sandy called back feeling like that was particularly clever of her.

She smiled at that, since she can't help but like the attitude. "That's an awful lot of confidence that you'll be keeping up, isn't it."

"The only thing I'm confident in anymore is how fast I can run away." She countered wishing it wasn't so. She wondered what it would be like to be so sure of herself.

"That's a good enough skill as any, for someone like you. For me, running has been nothing but a headache, so I'll take my last stand this time."

She's more musing out loud than anything else, but you didn't win fights to the death by kneeling.

"It shouldn't have to be like that though." She complained loudly for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Why should it be your last stand? Why should I have to be running all the time? Why doesn't anyone do anything to stop all this stupidity?"

She stopped and gave her (or her direction) a look, leaning on the railing. "Aye, it shouldn't, but as that's the situation we've found ourselves in, we'll have to suffer through it. If your gods are listening, maybe you should try them, but I'd expect them to be as nonresponsive as mine is."

Sandy didn't know much in the way of gods. She'd only wandered into church a few times, and the last few hadn't ended well for anyone involved...

"I think we might be on our own for this one."

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the black freighter with a skull on its masthead

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Oh gosh sorry I lost this thread ;_;

it's fine!

Re: it's fine!

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Short tag is short, still loving this.

me too, even if I'm really slow!

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