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thearena2013-04-02 01:00 am
amplifying) wrote in thearena2013-04-02 01:00 am
Entry tags:
dinner (open for hungry undead beings)
Who_ R, Javert, Karis, and Beck
What_ There are some hungry zombies in Disneyland, and Beck is hot on the menu.
Where_ Somewhere around, wherever you want!
When_ Some time during week three.
Warnings/Notes_ Gore, zombie violence, cannibalism and a little bit of character death!
So the Games aren't easy. Beck has come to that conclusion...Not that his games were any easier, though. Especially when you had one of those 'one rule' type things to keep.
When he hadn't been migrating from one end of the Arena to the other, Beck found himself thinking back to that one cycle. And most of the time, he ended up comparing that game experience to this Game experience. Most of the time, he really didn't come up with any life-changing answers.
Even though he had played in games similar to these in Argon, there were many things that were different. Things were stretched out here, to the point where it felt like an itch. You didn't know who was dying now or who wasn't, or what would be out to get you in one building and not the next. It seemed like people liked it this way...which he couldn't imagine why. He couldn't imagine why anybody liked these Games, let alone any other kind of reasoning behind it. But it bothered him all the same. It was all about derezzing...- killing, just for entertainment. He was now a few cycles into this, and Beck was doing okay. Not only was he alive, but he hadn't killed a single person or thing.
And that he was proud of.
He was thinking about this now as he settled down in his small little 'shelter', nibbling on whatever provisions he managed to snag from the Fantasyland Feast. But it didn't last for long; with a sudden flash, and a jerk from his human body, Beck felt himself glitch...and all of his memories of the past few weeks were gone. He felt the panic grow as he took a look around. And then came the questions of: where am I? What am I doing here? Why is this....-
But as quickly as the glitch came, it left. His memories returned with the snap of the fingers, leaving him a little tired, and a little shaken...but okay. Yeah, Beck was still okay.
What_ There are some hungry zombies in Disneyland, and Beck is hot on the menu.
Where_ Somewhere around, wherever you want!
When_ Some time during week three.
Warnings/Notes_ Gore, zombie violence, cannibalism and a little bit of character death!
So the Games aren't easy. Beck has come to that conclusion...Not that his games were any easier, though. Especially when you had one of those 'one rule' type things to keep.
When he hadn't been migrating from one end of the Arena to the other, Beck found himself thinking back to that one cycle. And most of the time, he ended up comparing that game experience to this Game experience. Most of the time, he really didn't come up with any life-changing answers.
Even though he had played in games similar to these in Argon, there were many things that were different. Things were stretched out here, to the point where it felt like an itch. You didn't know who was dying now or who wasn't, or what would be out to get you in one building and not the next. It seemed like people liked it this way...which he couldn't imagine why. He couldn't imagine why anybody liked these Games, let alone any other kind of reasoning behind it. But it bothered him all the same. It was all about derezzing...- killing, just for entertainment. He was now a few cycles into this, and Beck was doing okay. Not only was he alive, but he hadn't killed a single person or thing.
And that he was proud of.
He was thinking about this now as he settled down in his small little 'shelter', nibbling on whatever provisions he managed to snag from the Fantasyland Feast. But it didn't last for long; with a sudden flash, and a jerk from his human body, Beck felt himself glitch...and all of his memories of the past few weeks were gone. He felt the panic grow as he took a look around. And then came the questions of: where am I? What am I doing here? Why is this....-
But as quickly as the glitch came, it left. His memories returned with the snap of the fingers, leaving him a little tired, and a little shaken...but okay. Yeah, Beck was still okay.
no subject
The man finally dies, his body giving a few convulsive spasms as the three zombies hold him down and then he just kinda flops over, goes limp the same way R's seen hundreds of times right before a feeding frenzy. He's still warm as he is eased to the ground. If R closes his eyes he can pretend the man's just taking a breather and it's not like they'd murdered a total stranger. He can pretend all he wants. It doesn’t change the fact that they wiped out whoever was in there and if that’s not murder, R doesn’t know what is.
The squishing sounds from Karis make R's eyes flare open. She's already covered in gore, fresh blood coating those fangs of hers, glistening red. It's hard to read her expression when she doesn't have eyes like Air and him but he thinks she’s in heaven, or the next closest thing for zombies. Suddenly she isn’t trash-talking their victim: she’s too busy.
R releases the thigh he’d been burying his face into, a string of meat dribbling out of his mouth, and crawls over to the man's head, bumping into Air on the way. The dead man’s eyes are frozen wide open. R imagines he's staring right at him, accusing, asking why the hell he got the short straw. It’s stupid. He knows there’s no one there now. He still looks away. R positions himself at the man’s shoulders and starts clumsily clawing away his head, trying to rip through his hair and get past his skull and grunting as he works. It’d be easier if he had can-openers for hands like Karis. Since he doesn’t, he needs a few minutes to get to the good stuff inside, his fingers pawing into the exposed brain and pulling out a chunk by the handful.
Finally. R’s eye rolls up as he shovels it into his mouth. He heaves a sigh, waiting -
Colors. That’s the first thing he sees, these bright neon colors flashing by that puts Vegas to shame, a shade of blue that -
R chews away.
- he glances away from the light cycle. White armor, smooth plates, programs blurring by. A disc glowing in his hand. He won’t derez, he -
R sits where he’s hunched over by the man’s shattered head, lost in his own little world and he’ll say right now, these are the trippiest memories he’s ever stolen.