Building up to terrible plots and death - OPEN

[makeflowersgrow]

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.

Comments

[makeflowersgrow]

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."

[mudbloodhater]

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."

[makeflowersgrow]

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

[mudbloodhater]

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."