thearena | Building up to terrible plots and death

Entry tags:

✘ draco malfoy

Building up to terrible plots and death - OPEN

WHO: Eponine and OPEN
WHAT: Chilling. Just chilling. And meeting people. No murder here!!
WHEN: Beginning of week 2
WHERE: Snow White's Cottage - Fantasy Land.
WHY: Eponine has spent a week alone whilst Mun has been writing essays - so come bother her!
WARNINGS: I dunno - no death - but it is the arena so do apply suitable caution, ladies and gentlemen!

[It has been a week. A long, slightly uncomfortable - BORING week. Eponine had explored Fantasyland, slowly leaving the dank castle to look over the rest of what looked like a village. It was a strange place, with the tracks everywhere, and the little trolleys with wheels. Such a strange place. No - a theme park. A strange theme park. That was the word.

Still, the trolleys made a good bed. Since the parcel from Eva had arrived, Eponine had spent her time curled up in a cart deep in the depths of what was purported to be 'Snow White's Scary Adventures'. She liked the dummys in the ride - the prince even looked a little like Marius if she squinted. And the clothes had proved useful too. Poor Snow White had long since lost her dress, so that Eponine might have a change.

Perhaps she really could win this arena, just by laying low and hiding for the entire duration. She nibbled slowly on her rationsm and sipped the juice just long enough to stave dehydration,and read Eva's note over and over, and slept.

Sleep. That was where Eponine was heading now, curled up in the tattered remains of Prince Charming's cloak, completely oblivious to any who might come across her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Draco had spent most of his time quietly making his way through Fantasyland. It hadn't taken him that long to realise that there was the familiar tingle of his magic returning to him when he crossed a certain line, and it had taken him even less time to figure out where exactly the boundaries of that line was. He'd had his practice in the last Arena, and it seemed to have stuck with him, as far as he could tell.

He had spent some of his evenings fashioning a makeshift wand from a twig and his newfound knife. He was still unsure if it would even work, but it was most certainly worth a shot. It was all worth a shot, really. What did he have to lose?

So it was like that that he found Eponine, out on one of his many strolls; he was twirling the stick between his fingers, flicking it at things and forcibly muttering spells in hopes of them working. So far, so good. He slowed when he saw a figure curled up, growing hesitant, and clutching his makeshift wand a little bit tighter.

Eponine was woken footsteps as they came closer - the clunk of ride pieces moving and falling, the muttered spells, though she couldn't tell what the voice was saying. Once she was properly awake, she listened carefully. Who was it? Friend or foe?

Foe.

Foe foe foe. She recognised that voice as Draco - and she was scared. Draco had murdered her last time they came face to face in an arena - and more than likely he would kill her again. Unless he hadn't seen her? She prayed to a God she didn't believe in that he would not see her and leave her well enough alone. She froze where she was, face hidden in the seat of the chair, wishing that her bright orange dress blended into the decor of the Snow White ride

It was a good try, the way she was hiding. If her dress had been another colour, if he hadn't been keeping an eye out for another Tribute, then she would have gone unnoticed. Really, under most circumstances, she'd have probably gone unnoticed. But Draco was feeling particularly ungracious towards Eponine of late, especially after she'd spat on him during that lockdown. Clint's suggestion niggled at the back of his mind, reminding him that he could do all manners of horrible things to this poor little bitch, and no one would bat an eye. They'd just fix her up, and send her on her way.

He slowly crept along, another sweep of the area telling him that she was more than likely alone - or else, had been temporarily abandoned by her allies. He wouldn't have been surprised. When he was close enough to her, he hissed another charm - a Full Body-Bind Jinx, the magic disagreeing just enough with his 'wand' to not hold more than five minutes, and not well at that - to keep her from struggling.

"Well, well, well. Aren't I a lucky one tonight?" He mused to himself, voice loud enough to carry to Eponine. "Who knew that this little trip wouldn't be a complete waste of my time?"

As soon as Eponine heard his voice out loud, she knew she was caught. This was it. She was going to die.

But then her limbs surprised her. For a second, her whole body sort of tingled, as it did when the Patron Minette had attacked - but then it was gone, and her body jerked suddenly as her legs snapped straight together, and her arms slapped against her sides.She lay awkwardly now, still facr down, half propped against the bench of the too-small car.

And now Eponine began to panic, as she frantically tried to move her limbs. She just about managed to wiggle her fingers - just about managed to open her mouth - but that was as far as she got.

"O' ah-ah oohoo-uhn?" She managed to gasp out, unable even to look round at Draco. She was trying to ask what he had done to her.

Was this it? He had somehow paralysed her and now he was going to kill her whilst she lay defenceless? This was not fair. She hoped the stupid audience hated it.

Draco crossed the rest of the distance between them, imagining that, given the state of his Full Body-Bind, he probably wouldn't be able to levitate her that well. Still, there was no point conversing with someone who was merely making noises at him, and he rolled his eyes. He might not have been the strongest person in the world, but he was capable of carrying a girl who looked no more than 90 pounds a few feet out of a cart; so he did, grunting with the effort of getting her out of the thing, and eventually dumping her on the ground face up.

"Do try that again. If you can, of course. Not that it'll matter overly much," Draco drawled, twirling the stick between his fingers as he thought of what sorts of horrid things he could do to her. Nothing complex, maybe. Something more emotion-driven.

"So. What do you think I ought to do to you here? I have a knife, you know. I could cut you up into tiny shreds, and see if the Capitol can put you back together again."

Eponine loathed that she had to submit to him, that he was able to carry her and dump her and - as she stared up at him, she realised fully that he could do ANYTHING to her. He could make her death linger for days. Or he could kill her straight away - and there was nothing that she could do about it. She glared up at him - and slowly moved her mouth to form the words -

"What - have - you - done - to - me?"

The tingling started a little in her feet again, and Eponine wriggled her toes - pleased to find that they at least, responded.

He had a knife, did he? Well... it would not be as quick or as painless as a broken neck, but it would be quite fast at least. And Eponine wasn't afraid - she knew she'd be alive again in the Capitol... but she still did not particularly want to suffer.

"Hurt - me and - How-ard -will hurt you." Funny - her face was beginning to tingle too, and her jaw suddenly felt looser.
She didn't know if Howard would hurt Draco - but had he not dropped her in it last time? And it might stop Draco hurting her if he was scared of Howard hurting him.

"You didn't like - - that - did you?" With effort, she managed a half smile.

He was so focused on her face, on looming down over her, that he didn't notice the way the charm was already letting up. He knew it would, of course; everything in the Arena was too good to be true, but at least for a time, he would make the most of feeling on top of the world with power.

"Full Body-Bind Jinx. Isn't it brilliant what a little magic can do to a person?" He smirked, the expression wild. It didn't fade when she brought up Howard, either; if anything, it grew.

"Oh, mademoiselle. You really are as dumb as you look, aren't you?" Draco asked, reaching out to brush some of her hair away from her face, knuckles grazing her cheek. "Your precious Howard doesn't scare me. He never has, he never will. You know why that is? It's because he's pathetic. Just like you - the two of you are made for each other, really."

"Magic?" Her mouth opened in surprise. Never - never had she truly believed in magic - and yet, here was the proof. She was trapped, paralysed in her own body by a sadistic man with a knife.Boy, really. No older than her, surely?

She wiggled a foot as it began to tingle - but had enough sense to keep her hands still as they too began to feel as if they had pins and needles in them.

She tried to spit up at Draco as he brushed her hair away - but she choked on her own saliva, still unable to move. But it wouldn't be long. Her whole body was beginning to sting a little now, just as her feet had. She was nearly free.

"I am not dumb, Monsieur - and I am not pathetic." If only she could kick him - punch him. But no - she had to save it until she was sure she'd be able to run. She was NOT going to die at Draco's hand again.

"And Howard is not, either. He is a braver boy than you. You make me ashamed, Monsieur. It is YOU who are pathetic."

It was getting more obvious that the charm was failing, and Draco's heart was in his throat; he was being dragged back down to reality from his pedestal. Hastily, he began to wrack his brain for another option, another way to keep her immobile. So instead, he shifted, dropping himself to sit on her ribs, where he could pin her arms down n case she moved.

She might not be dying at his hand again - not now, that was for certain; he could use her in so many other ways before then - but she would certainly be getting killed one way or another.

"You sure do a lot of chattering for someone who was curled up in a cart. It's like you aren't even trying," he sighed, giving her a look that suggested he still thought her pathetic, and her little excuses weren't doing her any favours. "But I've had an idea. You care so much for your precious Howard, hm? What if he was hurt by your hand? Wouldn't that be something?"

It was too late. He had sat on top of her, and Eponine groaned as she felt his weight on top of her chest.

"You get off me!" And with effort, she lifted an arm to try to swing at him, to claw at his eyes with her sharpened nails.

"You do not know what you are talking about. This is -MY - place. And MY bed. So go away!" She jerked her body, trying to throw Draco off. "You are stupid. Howard dying by my hand - I will not kill him, even of you threaten me with death. I do not care. I am not going to kill anybody - and more is the pity, because you deserve to die."

She struggled up a little and spat straight at Draco now. "Now either kill me or let me go."

He immediately shifted, pinning down her arm before she could get a decent blow in; her nails still caught his arm, raking through the fabric and rending his flesh in thin lines. It occurred to him then that he probably ought to have paid attention to that, to the way the Stylists had done her up like that.

"I hate to break it to you, but you can't really claim anything as yours in this place. It's all open to whomever can fight for it, and you're not really doing that well." He shifted with her movements, more firmly pinning her down, his fingers digging into her wrist. "I, on the other hand, am doing just fine."

It came to him then, the idea of using an Unforgivable on her. If she wouldn't kill, he'd make her do it. And when the Curse wore off, she would have to live with the memories weighing on her conscience, and she would know that it was him who had caused that. It would be the best revenge he could manage, though it would indeed cause lasting damage. Not physical, though. It wouldn't show on her face, and that would be what mattered.

She spat at him. Again. Again. Something snapped in his mind, and he reacted without hesitation, backhanding her across the face before moving for his stick again, holding it against her throat in a threat she probably wouldn't understand.

"No. I've got a much better idea." Another wicked grin curved his mouth, wide and toothy, before he hissed the next comment, his voice low and threatening. "Let's see if this sort of thing works in here. Imperius."

The way he dug his fingers in really hurt. His hands fit easily around her thin wrists and Eponine found it impossible now to twist her hands away. So instead, she growled up at Draco, and tried in vain to twist her body away.

"You are a bully, Monsieur." She stretched her head, trying to bite his with her sharpened teeth. The backhand to her cheeks caught her off guard, and her head jerked and slammed back into the ground, causing stars to dance in front of her eyes and her cheeks to flare red. She bit down hard, which made her lip bleed.

"I HATE you!" She spat out - before Draco jammed something at her throat. At first, she thought it was a knife, that he was about to kill her - but then... why did he have a stick? What better ide-

Her mind went completely blank, and her eyes became a little unfocused until she blinked, and then they settled back on Draco. Her whole body went limp. She stopped struggling.

After a minute, the fog cleared a little, and she was able to speak. But try as she might, she could not move herself. And this time, she could not even speak. She wanted to ask desperately, what Draco had done, but she simply couldn't. She wanted to push him off her and run to hide elsewhere - but her limbs felt like they didn't belong to her. She could only lie and stare up at Draco and wonder exactly what was happening.

After a secon

As adverse as he was to violence and the killing when outside of the Arena, there seemed to him like there was a switch that was flicked when he got in there. He was suddenly more willing to bite and claw and scratch and gouge, and to not much give a damn if he was hurting a scrawny girl half his size. To not worry about the potential consequences of his current actions. He wasn't the craziest person in that Arena, after all. He was fairly middle-of-the-road, as that went.

And strangely, he was more gleeful about the fact that that had even worked than he was worried about the fact that he had so easily cast an Unforgivable. He was a Death Eater now, after all - he had a sort of reputation to live up to. He had to impress his father, and he had to make sure he didn't let the Dark Lord down. Certainly, it was more than a little stressful, but here- Here, things were working out. Here, he didn't have to worry about professors getting in the way, or offering him help he didn't need, and he didn't have to worry about anyone catching him. He was allowed to be out-and-out nasty.

And so he would be.

The grin that curved his mouth was downright crazed when she suddenly stopped fighting back. She was his, though he wasn't about to delude himself that it would last as long as he'd hoped. A day or two, perhaps. Maybe a week, if he was lucky. He'd have to make the most of it while it lasted.

Letting up a little on her wrist, Draco sat back, tipping his chin up. "You're going to do me a little favour, mademoiselle. You're going to find your precious Howard. And you're going to try to kill him for me."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Building up to terrible plots and death - OPEN

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject