[open] marching on, it's one foot then the other

[battlesleep]

WHO| Thane and OPEN.
WHAT| Thane's just been tossed into murder island and he is not very pleased with it.
WHEN| Week 2.
WHERE| Cornucopia, Fantasyland.
WARNINGS/NOTES| Starting with the basic possibility for arena violence / attempted murder, nothing specific yet but will update as needed.

The explanation given to him had been far more than simply unsatisfactory. He had considered fighting back, attempting to get out, but when he'd reached for his biotics they were not there and without them there were too many to successfully come up with a plan for in the short space of time he had before suddenly he was being put into what he had been told was the arena. Given longer than five minutes, perhaps, but he had not been.

It was a moot point. He was in the arena now, a place where apparently he must be on his guard against everyone else. He would not kill for these people. He had taken no contract and his arm was still Shepard's, no matter where she was (and where was she, where was this place and what was happening?). But if he was an adequate representation of the people in this arena, it was only going to get more dangerous the longer he lingered in one place. He must move, and now. 

There were buildings close by. Perhaps they would provide adequate shelter and if he was lucky supplies. He would go as quietly as possible through them, remain out of sight and quiet. And once he found shelter he could sit and think, consider what was going on and how he could get out.

Comments

Fantasyland

[littlebitrockandroll]

Today's mission was a sweatshirt. There was a lot that sucked about living on the run, both here and in Zombieland. Finding food, almost no clean water, sleeping in dirt. But the no showers bit was the thing that she always noticed the most. Her hair was getting close to matted, despite the effort to rinse it in some of the less suspicious looking water and re-braid it every few days. Nothing she could do there. The clothes though? That she can deal with. And soon. After two weeks living in holes and dirt, she was pretty sure stealth was getting close to impossible thanks to smell alone. Not to mention chilly at night, with her cape slowly resembling a chew toy more and more every day.

So to the stores it was. She spent the day pillaging through the scattered merchandise and piles of rotten food in search of her goal. Even something stamped with Snow White's face (her least princess. Who was dumb enough to take an apple and live with creepy old guys?) would work. It was just a matter of tossing things aside until an intact one could be found.

[battlesleep]

He had made his way a little distance into this stretch of shops before he heard a noise, and from there it was a matter of circling around to determine where precisely it was coming from and who was making it.

He had not expected to find a child, given the nature of this place as it had been told to him. She could not be much older than Kolyat had been all those years ago - younger perhaps than he had been when he made his first kill, though specific age on a human child was harder for him to judge than it would have been on a drell. Regardless, she was certainly young. He had worked with children, certainly, used them as informants and spies, but to throw one into a killing field was an entirely different matter.

"What is it you are searching for?" He kept his hands held up to indicate he meant no harm, back straight as he maintained a careful distance. He did not want to frighten her.

[littlebitrockandroll]

Little Rock swung around at the sound of the voice, hoping over a small pile of ruble to put an extra few feet between her and the-

The frog monster.

She stumbled another step back, one foot getting caught in a pile of torn up stuffed Micky's and Minnie's and sending her sprawling onto her butt. What the hell.

"I don't taste good."

[battlesleep]

He cannot say he had been expecting that particular reaction - in fact, he does not think he has ever gotten. Drell are not particularly common among space, but they are but one race among many.

Her reaction indicated that it was unlikely she had had much contact with aliens before.

"I'm not going to eat you." He crouched down to make himself smaller and less able to move towards her, frowning. "I promise I will not cause you harm."

[littlebitrockandroll]

"Wha-"

She was trying to come up with complete sentences. Really, she was. Too bad her brain had stopped on monster and not really moved past there. Zombies were one thing. Zombies were just people and a bug. This was...was...

Talking to her.

"You're not from Disney."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

When Thane opens to door to one of the restaurants, Howard is inside. He's found some shelter here so he can try and fix up his wound, a puncture in his lower thigh from a spear. The blood on his white pants has pooled into black, and he's cut away the fabric at the knee with a knife to get better access to the injury. He's using a strip of cloth from his cape as a sort of tourniquet as he dribbles some water over it.

He freezes as the door near him opens. He's on the sitting ground and injured, and can't really move from where he's sitting on the floor quickly. So instead he just stays still, hoping that whoever decided to investigate this house will ignore him and be on their way.

[battlesleep]

He's avoiding fast movements, anything that will draw too much attention, so it's a whisper of a movement as the door opens just enough for him to slip through and close it behind him, fist at his side clenched in a gesture that would be indicative of his biotics flaring if he had access to them. He distinctly does not.

His eyebrow ridges knit firmly down as his gaze falls upon Howard and he notes the wound. He seems young - perhaps not quite a child, but still young enough for Thane to find his presence and injury troubling.

"If you wish to avoid infection, it must be cleaned thoroughly." He folds his hands behind his back, making it clear that he will not move closer yet. "How were you injured?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

The fist is clenched. Howard wonders if it's in anger or anxiety until those thoughts are dashed by the more pressing one: he's definitely, definitely noticed.

Howard stays where he is, petrified like an animal of prey as he looks at the freakish person standing in front of him. It's not even Thane's appearance that really scares him - back home, his best friend was a rock monster, and this place has giant turtles, after all. It's the offer to help.

The last time someone offered to help Howard, they ended up stabbing him. It's not a memory he easily forgets. As such, he appreciates that Thane doesn't move any closer - and that Thane doesn't appear to be armed.

He takes a deep breath and wraps his hands around the cloth tourniquet, holding onto it like the handlebar of a roller coaster. The blood flow has mostly stopped from the injury, and while it's difficult to walk on this leg Howard knows it's not impossible. It looks uglier than it feels, although infection is still a very obvious concern.

"I got speared," he stammers, worried that silence will somehow be incriminating of something. "By someone else here."

[battlesleep]

The look on Howard's face makes Thane reconsider the fact that he seems to have landed in a place where human is the default. His work took him to human colonies only rarely - he stood out too much there. Most of his life has been spent among aliens of all kinds, in places where it is expected.

That is not important now, though. Useless musings for another time, or no time at all. This young human looks like he has managed to mostly fix himself, but he will find movement difficult and there are others out there, apparently. Others with weapons and, it would seem, a willingness to wound at least.

"Are they pursuing you?" That would be the logical choice on their part, if they knew they had hurt him. It is best to take down wounded prey before they start trying to fight back. "Do you have a weapon?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"No, no, someone else got in the way." Howard tries, gingerly, to get his feet beneath him. He doesn't make any noise as he stands up, but he does wince; it clearly isn't an easy task, and he favors one leg significantly.

"I'm unarmed." It's a lie. He has a knife in his pocket, but he's not about to disclose that to a stranger - at best it's a threat, at worst it's an impetus to attack him and steal it. Howard's small and skinny and wounded; Thane could overpower him without much difficulty. "My name's Howard. What's yours?"

[cutshort]

Spotting him wasn't very difficult. Hyperion always kept moving, be it back or forth, through new and gradually familiar places, and he always kept watch, even when the implants behind his eyes refused to work.

There was little to be mistaken about humanoid shapes carrying something visibly different, something that - in Hyperion's tired eyes - sparked his interest. Someone currently as aimless as him only had something like that to guide him around. (Follow your curiosity, see where it takes you.)

Only one violent encounter had been written into his history so far, more a result of his attacker's despair than his own initiative, still visible on the blood staining the sleeve of his jacket. Surely that would have scared most of those dwelling the Arena, but he found himself wanting more.

So he followed.

[battlesleep]

There was a sense you obtained, when you had lived a life in the shadows as long as Thane had. A knowledge of when people were watching you, the moments it was not safe to move.

Right now he had that feeling, and while he had no desire to look over his shoulder and alert anyone behind him that he was aware of any eyes, he did not have any intentions of letting someone else stalk him. He still had his professional pride.

He takes advantage of the first cover he finds to start working his way into more, hiding himself and beginning to double back on a path parallel to the one he had been taking, watching for movement while moving as stealthily as he can.

[cutshort]

His arrival was quiet. There was a predictability about the careful wandering man, looking around for something he thought he'd seen only moments ago, now mysteriously out of reach. Hyperion kept his hands tucked away, fingers playing with the folded knife - his only weapon so far. For a moment he felt as though he had stepped right into the center of a spotlight, being watched and unable to see.

So he whistled. A harmless little tune, nothing anyone else would remember from their childhood, falling out of rhythm his slow steps crackling against the ground.

[battlesleep]

He watched, for a long moment, and then rose from his cover to the side of this seemingly fearless man and took a step inwards. There was not caution to his movements - he had no weapon, the closer he got the more confident he became in his ability to manage any arising situations.

"You were following me." Neutral, more interest than any sort of judgment in it.

[cutshort]

There was a strange quirk to Hyperion's lips when he turned and found what he was looking for, watching him (it-?) in momentary silence. It took him a while longer to finally shift to a more talkative stance, hands still tucked away in his pockets.

"That's right." Was he right to do that? Would it lead them anywhere, or leave them in a motionless encounter? "You caught my eye."

Fantasyland

[orestes]

From their camp on the upper floor of a shop, he could see a decent number of the streets below. It made for an easy time developing a mental map of the area and there were certainly less advantageous spots in the town surrounding them. Enjolras had to admit that despite her eccentricities, Little Rock was far from stupid regarding their predicament. Naturally, it called into question why someone, particularly a girl, so young should be so knowledgeable.

Of course, there was still the matter of supplies. Food and weaponry were essentially if they were to survive, and while their outpost had yet to be attacked, as the other Tributes took care of each other (loathed though he was to apply those terms to it), the survivors would come for them. It was only logical, practical on some terrifying level. And that, is what led him into the small street near what he presumed to be midday. The shadows were few and far between, but the ruins were more or less sufficient cover. Still, Enjolras found himself actually missing the grey and claustrophobic looming of Parisian architecture. That would have been infinitely more practical.

So distracted was he by attempting to sneak around a particularly open intersection that the rather imposing figure in the distance caught him by surprise. Nevertheless, that was his path and Enjolras would not be deterred. It wasn't until he was barely twelve feet from the other... Person, he supposed, that his appearance truly caught up with him.

"God in heaven..." He breathed, unable to stop himself. What on earth was this man?

well enjolras when two drell love each other very much

[battlesleep]

It was a rather open intersection, and Thane himself was working on making sure he avoided it when he caught sight of the other person in the distance. He supposed it made sense that if they were supposed to kill each other they would be put in a space small enough that run ins were inevitable, but he would have preferred not to see as many people.

Eventually he knew he would run into the people who had accepted the idea that they must kill each other. That was a fight he did not wish to be forced into.

But now he moved forward towards the other person, stopping when he did. "Being out in the open is dangerous, here." Calm and measured, tilting his head in consideration.

zounds! that is a very scary thought. :o

[orestes]

The voice that filtered over the ruined streets was at odds with the man's appearance. Or rather, Enjolras' impression of his appearance, at the very least. He didn't seem wild, or demonic, or any of the other doubtlessly prejudiced things that, should he survive this encounter, he'd scold himself for later.

"Indeed, though I pose no danger to you, so long as you pose none to me." And in actuality, he didn't know that he was either willing to fight back, or capable of doing so, even if this man did attack him. There were still too many metaphysical questions surrounding the Games, and the odds that he would be outmatched in a hand-to-hand fight were relatively high, even if he had the will for it. Slowly, Enjolras steeled himself. Perhaps if he gave the impression of being a more formidable opponent, a conflict could be avoided altogether.

yeah thane thinks so too

[battlesleep]

"I will not harm you." 'Unless you attack me' he left unspoken - he did not think it needed saying, since this man did not seem by his words to be interested in attacking. Taking people at what they said was always a risk of some sort, but he had no intention of turning his back and he did not think he was being lied to right now.

And perhaps he had something closer to answers than what Thane had been able to obtain so far. "What do you know about this place?"

[orestes]

Enjolras kept his distance, despite the fact that this man, this terrible-looking man didn't seem to be intentionally threatening him. Warily, he glanced around the intersection, hoping that if this were a trap, and there was someone else lurking, he could at least make an attempt at spotting them before he was completely lost. When he could find no other signs of life, he tossed his hair slightly, in a vain effort to clear wavy bangs that had become increasingly unruly as the days had passed from his eyes. As he spoke, his expression took on an air of resignation. "No more than you do, I imagine. We are participants in a contest, a fight to the death. It is a great honor and should we be so lucky as to survive, a District of this abundant country will be given increased rations throughout the year."

Fantasyland - hasn't seen Thane yet

[hi_there_aliens]

It was only sheer luck, and the weight of the Tribute jumping on him, rather than silently winding the garrote around his neck, that Daniel came out more or less alive. Nearly throttled in your sleep was a hell of a lot better than actually throttled, although immediately after, when Daniel had tried to run a few yards, part of him wished that the Tribute had finished the job. The effort it took to drag in air down his throat was agonizing. He'd slowed into as fast a trot as he could, turning at the waist every now and then to make sure the Tribute wasn't following him.

He didn't have anywhere set in mind. Daniel made his way haphazardly through the streets, the internal map he had of the place - hazy at best- forgotten. Anywhere but where that Tribute was. Whatever urge to sleep he'd entertained? Pretty much gone. If he survived this, he had a feeling he'd have a hard time relaxing at all, even if he was back at home, or letting his guard down. Sleeping each time had nearly gotten him killed!

Daniel hoped this wasn't how Jack had felt back when he'd been in Black Ops. If so, how did he keep his sanity?

For now, he weaved through the buildings. His chances for survival had took a nose dive. He probably would've done a lot better if he'd dislocated a shoulder or something.And he'd have a harder time going through with his part of the plan. Daniel had counted on everything but Games stealing away his most valuable tool; his words.

It was only when he'd come up to a row of shops, some with windows shattered, others barely hanging on, that Daniel stopped. He hunched over, the wheezing seemingly too loud against ruins. So much for stealth, he thought. His best option now was to hide, wait for the swelling to go down, or hope to God that one of the sponsors had some mercy on him.

Daniel's eyes slid upwards to the partial window in front of him. He tilted his neck, just a fraction, holding back the soft swear when even that much movement was enough to send a lance of pain down his body. Even in the dusty surface, he could see the beginnings of a spectacular bruise sprouting. Daniel touched it gingerly with a finger and yes, unsurprisingly doing that hurt and yes, he should know better.

[battlesleep]

He had heard Daniel coming from some way away - not that he was being particularly loud, but Thane had excellent hearing and the training to ensure he paid very close attention to what he picked up on.

For a little while he remained in cover, crouched and watching the human advance through the streets, tracking him. He was injured, that much was clear from the way he moved, the sound of his breathing harsh under the sun. What the wound was was harder to determine at first - at least until he came closer for the pattern of his breathing to become clearer, more familiar. Something in the throat or chest, and seeing him poke at his throat in the window made it clearer.

He hesitated, but then broke cover silently and emerged to the human's side, hands held out palms up and at a distance that would hopefully make the other more comfortable. "I mean you no harm." He would have simply remained in hiding, but this human could well have valuable information on the location of others around - others who were dangerous. "Can you speak?"

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel didn't hear the Tribute until he was coming out of the shadows; from the corner of his eye, the archaeologist only caught a tall shape that came sliding seemingly out from one of the buildings itself. Daniel jumped and started to turn sharply to look towards him. It only occurred to him an instant later that that in itself was about to be a horrible idea.

He caught himself. Too late. The motion strained his neck. Daniel gave a ragged cough of breath as he tried to swallow down the gasp. His eyes stung with the sudden rake of fire down his throat. What he saw through watery eyes, however, was almost enough to make him forget the pain. A roughly humanoid alien stood, hands out in what seemed to be a universal way to say 'friendly alien here, don't mind me'; Daniel had used it himself all the time. The alien was bipedal, and covered in green skin that almost looked like either the carapace of a bug or the skin of a reptile, and dotted here and there with red striations. Jet black eyes were tilted in his direction.

Despite the hurt, Daniel couldn't help but look fascinated. Delighted even. He had to wonder at the English though.

"Trying not to." Every word came as if reluctantly dragged out, grating up through a raw throat, and yes, it pretty much hurt just as much as he thought it would. Daniel was silently cursing the past several hours; here he had an undeniable alien, one that was interested in talking and clearly not a transplant of the Goa'uld, and Daniel couldn't talk! Against his better judgement, Daniel went for it. There was no way he was passing up the chance, and beside, the Tribute hadn't gone for him just yet. He was going to take it as a good sign.

Daniel tapped his collarbone. "Daniel." Then he motioned towards the alien, palm upwards. "You?"

[battlesleep]

That ragged breath was a sound Thane found all too familiar, his face setting in a serious solemnity. Either a throat injury or there was something wrong with the man's lungs - either way it would be a serious hindrance to him in this setting. If he was lucky, he could handle himself well enough.

He blinked for a moment at the gestures, both eyelids flickering, and then inclined his head. "My name is Thane." It had been obvious from the man's initial reaction that he had been startled by Thane's appearance, a situation that was rapidly becoming very familiar, but at least he seemed to be taking it well in stride overall. The questions were wasting time, here. Thane took a careful slow step forward, tucked his hands neatly behind his back as he took his stance, almost military in nature.

"You are injured. By whom?"

[hi_there_aliens]

Daniel paused, thrown off for an instant by the way his eyelids flickered. Two eyelids. Like a bird's nictating membrane, maybe, Daniel mused. Did he see in color? And did the red striations hold any significance to his makeup, some sort of gills maybe? He couldn't tell at this angle.

"Nice to meet you," Daniel replied. He meant every word of it. He didn't often get a chance to meet an alien-alien, which was odd, considering the number of world's SG-1 had visited, though granted, he didn't seem that removed from humans, but Daniel also only just met the Tribute too. He'd probably uncover more about his species as they went on. He was looking forward to it.

Of course, the Tribute hadn't sprung a sneak attack on him either. That was kind of a big plus. He was going to count it a new low for the past several weeks if that was how he was judging his first impression of someone.

Thane inclined his head slightly. His hands went to neatly clasp themselves behind his back. For a moment there, he gave off the very same air Teal'c did a lot of the time. The pang of homesickness was both sudden and surprising in how fierce it was just then.

Daniel gave a limp smile. "Wish I knew. Another Tribute. Ambushed me while sleeping." There was a dry, if strained note to the smile now. "Be careful where you sleep."