thearena | On the Hunt

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On the Hunt

Who: Karis and Daniel Jackson
What: Karis is out looking for other tributes; she finds one.
Where: Adventureland
When: Week Three
Warnings/Notes: Violence.

Just because she'd been able to feed once didn't mean that Karis had stopped looking for others - on the contrary, she wanted to find another Tribute and bring them down. Somehow, she'd thought this would be easier then it had been - apparently everyone around here was good at hiding or fighting or running or all three. So that meant she'd only gotten one kill so far (plus a few instances where she'd been able to draw blood on a few people). She still prowled the empty streets and byways of the strange amusement park, yellow eyes glinting as she sought out the living. Her boots scraped on asphalt as she turned down another street - had she been here already? It was hard to tell sometimes, with all of the wreckage and general decay. Sometimes it almost reminded her of home, before they'd started rebuilding. Rust, buildings falling apart. It was almost enough to make her nostalgiac.

Then she froze - had she heard something? She couldn't quite tell. She edged towards one of the doorways, intent on hiding if anyone (or anything) else came down the street. Striking from ambush was one of her preferred methods of attack. She'd watch and she'd wait. At least for a little while longer.

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He was in better shape than most when it came to supplies. Daniel tried to be grateful for that much. He had gotten lucky at the feast, but still. They also weren't infinite. The tea cakes would eventually peter out, and then he'd have to start on the remaining food from the Sponsors or see about trapping something. Judging from the recent lack of gifts from them, he wasn't exactly interesting them. Considering that so far he'd avoided killing anyone himself, he wasn't too surprised. Sorry for being boring? He certainly wasn't.

He should tracking down Punchy, compare notes while they were at it and see how he was. This should take him to the Matterhorn. Evening, in the meantime, was quickly creeping in. The sky had darkened by degrees, casting the crumbling shapes of the false pyramid into shadow, which seemed to grow deeper and bottomless when he looked through that doorway. The trees seemed to crowd in. Daniel carefully stepped over a twisted length of fence, his boot coming down on a thin sprinkling of glass on the floor with a small crunch.

Nervously, Daniel glanced back over his shoulder. He'd encountered that one Tribute within the pyramid itself - the one that had tried to eat his foot while Daniel was sleeping. Now he half-expected to see him shambling up the road behind him. Daniel's eyes darted from one fallen cart to a doorway, to a corner. There was nothing. No low groan or shuffling. It seemed clear.

The great thing about being undead was that you didn't need all that many supplies to survive. You just kind of existed. Sure, you had the gnawing hunger and cold that never really went away, but you also weren't going to starve to death. It aso gave you a certain ability to stand stock still and not move a muscle unless you really wanted to. Very corpse-like.

Karis had her head cocked, listening - she heard the faint 'crunch' of a boot on glass. She edged up to the corner and eased her head around to get a decent look. The long shadows cast by the setting sun made everything blend together, even to her excellent night-vision. This was really the worst time of day for her - getting dark, but still light enough for her ability to see in the dark to not yet be an advantage. She hissed quietly through her teeth.

There.

She froze again, gaze locked on the darkened figure of a man picking his way down the street. She watched him for a long moment, eyes glowing a dim acid yellow in the gathering dusk. Then she slipped out from her hidey hole and began to slowly worm her way closer, sticking close to cover. She wriggled her way behind a fallen, half-rotted concession stand. There was a faint clunk that seemed (to her) to echo in the abandoned street and she froze, waiting to see if she'd been spotted.

It...seemed clear, and it was that fact that made him nervous. Seemed wasn't the same as was clear. It was a pretty important distinction to make here, Daniel thought, worried as he tried to force himself to see through the growing darkness, improve his vision through will power. Quite frankly, considering the nature of the Arena, seemed was more likely to get himself killed. The shadows had started to blend into each other. What wasn't helping was that his glasses needed a wash too, the faint dirt and smudges on them making it that much harder to pick apart the darker shapes from one another.

The problem was that he didn't have the instincts that the rest of SG-1 had so finely honed from all the training that came from military or being a Jaffa. They probably would have located the source of the uneasiness, or failing that, at least they could have worked together as a squad to flush it out. If there was anything.

Daniel seriously hoped that his instincts were wrong.

Nothing seemed to move in evening darkness. Daniel started to turn, quickly leave this area when there was a very soft clunk of something shifting. Daniel froze, heart doing just about all it could to sudden crawl right out his chest. What was that? A crawling sensation went down his spine, and he held his breath. He was almost certain of it, there was that feeling that he wasn't alone. His throat gave a phantom twinge. The last time someone had caught him by surprise...

The archaeologist drew out the hat pin from his belt, four inches of sturdy metal, and clasped it in his hand. Daniel hoped he sounded a lot more confident right now than he felt. Otherwise the bluff wasn't going to do a thing. His eyes passed over the road and area around him, trying to find whoever it was. "I know you're there. I can see you. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. So let's not do this, okay?"

Edited 2013-04-10 02:26 (UTC)

She'd been about to resume her slow crawl forward when his voice froze her in place again. Maybe he'd heard her, maybe he just had a hunch - Karis didn't know. So she waited for a few long moments in the gathering dark to see if anything else happened. Then she started to worm her way forward again. There was the scrape of boot on pavement, a little clatter as she dislodged something. But if she stayed low enough she might be able to get close enough for a lunge before he realized what was happening.

After all, the darkness was her friend.

The only answer Daniel received was silence. And then it was followed by the scuff of something against the pavement, the rustle and clatter as something fell. Whoever was out there - there wans't anyway he was alone, and the question now was whether it was an animal or Tribute - believed Daniel's words about as much as he had believed them.

Daniel worried at his lower lip with his teeth, trying to follow the sound. Night was practically on them. And worse, this person had both called his bluff and decided he wasn't much of a threat.

He had to get out. Preferably while he wasn't stabbed in the back. Daniel backed up, slowly, hands wrapped tightly around the hat pin, until his shoulders found the closest wall. Okay, so one side of him was protected. He started to follow the wall, scanning this way and that.

Karis crept closer. She could see him, outlined in shades of grey, pressed back against the wall as the shadows lengthened and melded into darkness. She scuttles forward on all fours, claws scraping over the pavement and acid yellow eyes starting to stand out a bit more as the darkness deepens. They're like animal eyes, almost, but animals only reflect the light. They certainly don't glow with some sort of cold, inner fire.

She's almost close enough. Just a yard or two more and she can close in on him. She can almost taste fear (and the blood). She anticipates the feeling of a kill and the ability to soothe the gnawing hunger in her belly.

Just a few moments more.

Despite the wall digging into his shoulder-blades, Daniel had to admit to himself that really, he didn't feel that much safer. Or secure. He'd trade the wall for a flashlight if he could; trying to search through the darkness, knowing in his gut that something was there, that he was being stalked like so much prey wasn't doing a thing for his nerves.

The hat pin was digging into his palm at this rate. Daniel's knuckles gave a pop as he forced himself to release the death grip by a fraction. He could hear it. There was a scrap, of something sharp on the ground. And that was when he saw it. It was only out of the corner of his vision that he even saw it. Two pale, sickly yellow eyes, and it was practically on top of him. They seemed to come out of the darkness, like fireflies or little lamps suddenly unshuttered.

Daniel started to turn, backing away, hat pin ready.

There. He was there and she could practically smell the fear and almost taste the blood already. With a guttural snarl, she leaped for him, hands hooked into claws as she tried to grapple with the man, tangle him up and get him on the ground where she could put claws and teeth to work on his flesh. She wanted his resistance to end quickly.

Which didn't necessarily mean she'd let him die right away. At least if she had her way.

Something sprang at him, and he had only an instant to take in the human shape, what might have been a gangly female, a snarl working it's way up her throat. That snarl seemed to rattle somewhere cold and wet, like something rotted and dead. Her fingers - claws sank into his shoulders. Daniel yelped at the sudden stabs of pain.

He might have more mass than her, but he didn't have surprise or that ferociousness to her. Daniel staggered under the Tribute's gangly weight, and went to his knees. His free hand scrabbled at her wrist, while the other swung the hatpin at her arm.

Karis snarled in triumph as she felt her claws sink home and she tried to bring her legs up, to get her legs wrapped around him so she could get a decent grip - then something bit into her arm and it made her yank her arm back with a hiss of half-felt pain (and tearing at her target's shoulder in the process). It wasn't fatal (not nearly), but it was enough to make her pause and give Daniel an opening in that split second of hesitation.

These weren't just blunt fingernails or nails overgrown. He could feel it the moment they sank into his shoulder, that they were very solid and very sharp and very pointed. Blood welled up. He couldn't see in the dim light, but he could feel the points going into him, and then, worse, he could feel one arm of her arms (Jesus, she was frighteningly strong) jerking back when the hat pin struck home. The set of claws came tearing out, just as much as Beck tearing the rat from his own hand. The blood splattered them both. Fire burst from the tear, then went down his arm and back.

Daniel cried out in the darkness and fell back onto ass. Desperately, he lashed out with the injured arm, tears springing to his eyes as he swung at her head.

That was great. Perfect. She had the breather right where she wanted him, his desperate flailing with something sharp notwithstanding. She tried to follow him down as he fell and she stumbled, just as he made a desperate swing for her head. Something cracked against the side of her skull and she staggered back, blinking as her vision swirled for a moment. For a moment she was disoriented and she tried to get her head clear again. Lucky bastard.

His fist impacted into something hard. The weight on him was suddenly, mercifully, gone. The woman had staggered backwards. Unfortunately, he hadn't knocked her out either. Daniel watched with a frozen fascination as the lights winked in and out as the Tribute blinked rapidly, her shape dwindling into the darkness for a moment.

The archaeologist scooted backwards, scrabbling for anything heavier he could use as a weapon. His fingers scraped against something rough and hard, and he hoped, brick shaped.

"Don't. Please. I don't want to have to hurt you. Just leave," Daniel grated out. His hand closed on the piece of rubble, dragging up towards his chest. It felt better in his hands, more solid and reassuring than the hat pin. Daniel grasped at his shoulder with his other hand. Blood was already trickling down his arm, darkening his clothes and glistening on the fabric. He wasn't going to sit there and let himself be ripped to shreds either.

Well, shit. Karis hissed again, fingers and claws flexing as she stared at him from out of arm's reach. He had a weapon now, as crude as it was, and she didn't have the element of surprise. She'd drawn blood and something urged her to finish the job - but she risked getting her skull caved in. Karis clicked her teeth together in frustration and then started to edge backward, eyes still locked on him.

"Next time, you're not gonna get so lucky. That's a damn promise."

She gave up. At least for the moment.

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On the Hunt

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