Stranded in This Spooky Town [Closed]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

WHO| Howard, Wyatt, Aunamee and Grey
WHAT| Howard gets a message and goes to save his Pony Girl.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Frontierland/Fantasyland
WARNINGS/NOTES| Death of a cat, plus the resident psychopaths are probably going to get messy later in the threads.

There is comfort in having an ally, and over the week Howard seems to be a little bit less of a mess for having Wyatt around. He still sleeps lightly, interrupted by strange visions and the creaking of the tracks outside, but he doesn't startle so hard at every sound, doesn't pace around the little hideout endlessly before resting. He catches rats and, during the day, continues to rig various booby traps throughout Thunder Mountain. The length of rope has made the latter much easier.

But he worried last night when he couldn't find any rats to share with Wyatt, and even though Wyatt was perfectly understanding Howard's more than a little relieved to catch a tabby cat the next morning. It's injured before he gets to it, which makes catching it easier, and while it scratches up his neck and arms he manages to snap its neck without much struggle. It makes a loud squall, though, and Howard freezes where he is in the shooting gallery, hoping no one heard him. He absentmindedly strokes the dead cat's neck as he listens, looking for all the world like a kid holding a plush animal and not a combatant with his next meal.

It's then that he notices that there's a long strip of fabric wrapped up in the cat's Minnie Mouse collar. He lays the cat down on the ground and silently crouches down, pulling the fabric out. It's a torn piece of a baby's t-shirt from the gift shop, moth-eaten and faded pink, with the image of Tinkerbell's feet faintly visible. There's a note written on it in pencil, smudged by the effort of writing on cloth. Howard reads it, licking his dry lips.

He gets up, grabs the cat, and races up the rigged track to the hideout in Thunder Mountain to Wyatt, cloth clenched tight in his fist.

Comments

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"The cat," Howard says, gesturing frantically at the dead animal at his feet. He thrusts the strip of fabric in Wyatt's direction. "It's a note, I think, I think it's for me, I just, I got it off the cat and just read it."

Help Eponine
Fantasyland

Howard takes a few deep breaths, winded from the sprint up the rail, barely looking at the fishhooks Wyatt's working on. "What do we do?"

[the_marshal]

Wyatt set his make-shift hooks aside and took the shirt, stretching over his knees, studying it silently for a long moment, a soft warning ringing gently in the back of his head.

"Well, let's take a minute here to think about it," he mused, looking up at Howard curiously. "This Eponine's a friend of yers, I take it? One that sends ya notes on cats often?"

It was possible he supposed. Maybe this Eponine had gotten into some trouble and managed to not only get a note of help down, but wrangle it onto a wildcat that just happened to wander up on Howard... but here, in the middle of the arena, when somebody was already stalkin' the boy?

Wyatt had his doubts.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"No, no, this isn't her handwriting. I don't know whose it is." Howard rubs one hand over the other and paces around the tunnel. "She's my friend. She's my only friend here. I have to help her..."

But he trails off, staring out at the horizon. He can tell there's probably a trap waiting. Unfortunately, the jaws of time are already closing; what if Eponine is already dead? Or suffering?

"Please, Wyatt. Tell me what to do. She's barely older than I am."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt exhaled, jaw stiffening, mouth thining.

To hell with this place. And with those souless bastards thinking this - that forcing children to make these kinds of decisions - was 'entertaining.'

"This's likely a trap, Howard. Probably put on by the same person who's been watchin' us, an' following you around." A muscle to the left of mustache twitched, a rhymthic tick, and his blue eyes were direct. Hard,... but honest. "But if it were me, and if I truly believed there was a chance someone I cared about was out there, even if it's only small chance. I'd have ta go."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

He nods, continuing to pace around the little space, scuffing his foot a bit on an exposed piece of track. "It's where she'd go, Fantasyland. She'd want to be in the castle. She'd want to be able to pretend for just a little bit..."

He looks outside. "It's my fault if she gets hurt. I made her promise to try to win, because I thought they might not bring her back if she keeps committing suicide to get back to the Capitol."

He looks to Wyatt as if silently begging to be told that that's okay to have told her, that it was okay to tell a teenage girl to play the death game. Then he runs his hands over his face.

"If I go find her, will you come after me if I'm gone too long?" Knowing he has Wyatt at his back might help. Knowing someone will notice if he doesn't return, and will care, and maybe will come find him as he dies and hold his hand again...

He swallows.

[the_marshal]

"Howard, I'll go with ya," he responded. Simply. As if it should have been obvious. He even shifted, reaching for his knife again, as he found his feet, hunching slightly to avoid hitting the tunnel ceiling.

No hesitation.

"I'll even go for ya, if ya want me too."

He looked away, staring down the track, down toward where the morning light was slanting in, the muscle in his jaw keeping time between his skin.

"They might be expectin' that; that I'd offer to go in yer place, but even if they are..." He turned back. Took a breath and nodded firmly. "I'd rather it go wrong on me."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"No, you don't think like Eponine does. I do. She's like me, she's..." A survivor from the gutter, like him. Used to hunger and fear and need. It's what drew them together, originally, that feeling of being outsiders due to the harshness of the circumstances they came from. "You won't be able to find where she went. I will."

It's an excuse. The truth is that he can't just wait around not knowing where she is or what's happened to her.

"And someone needs to stay here to make sure no one takes over our hideout. We'll still need shelter."

He takes a deep breath and starts to gather his things. "But...thanks. And..."

He doesn't know how to apologize for avoiding Wyatt since the last Arena. He doesn't know if he even needs to.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt's first impulse was to argue. He even opened his mouth to do so, the words dancing on the tip of his tongue... but then he sighed, and his mouth fell closed once more.

It made a certain sense, he could see that, and he could understand the need to do it oneself. That inability to wait on the sidelines, useless and unknowing. And... he'd promised, hadn't he? Told the boy that all he'd had to do was give the word and Wyatt would honor it.

He nodded again, acceptance and agreement.

"Alright." The word felt like a stone, settling in his chest. He hoped he wouldn't live to regret it. "But ya keep an eye out, and an ear to the ground." He moved to the tunnel opening, looking at the sky, studying the position of the sun, the slight of its light. "Come sundown, if ya ain't back, I'll come lookin."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard grabs the prop gun, then puts it back down, deciding he'll just take his knife instead. "Okay. I'll be back by then. Promise."

He knows it's not really a promise if you aren't sure you can deliver. It's really just a lie. He tries to smile, then gives Wyatt a little mock salute and heads out.