Howard Bassem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2013-04-10 11:08 pm
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in thearena2013-04-10 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
The Sound That's Counted So Many Days [Open]
WHO| Howard and OPEN
WHAT| Boobytraps all up in here.
WHERE| Thunder Mountain (Frontierland)
WHEN| Week 4
WARNINGS/NOTES| None yet.
Thunder Mountain is a death trap. Howard's made it that way. A few people, like Wyatt, know how to get past the precautions Howard's set up, but otherwise it's a rather ingenious array of rigged boobytraps. In a way, Howard's actually enjoyed working on his 'security system' to the little tunnel he and Wyatt and R have occupied. It's taken time to think up, time that he could spend thinking of Eponine or thinking of dying or just thinking about the excruciating pain of having his body heal up. And then it's taken time to implement.
The bridge to the tunnel on each side has had most of the railing stripped out, and the boards on the track have been replaced by rotten ones from near the water. Pieces will fall out if stepped on. A few snares lie in wait in the darker parts of the coaster, ready to catch an unsuspecting foot. There are trip-wires, as well, some of which lead to bells or collapses of piles of stuff as alarms, and some of which tug at precariously-set coaster cars. It's not perfect, and many of the traps can be easily identified or won't work properly when tripped, but it's somewhat impressive nonetheless.
The tunnel itself has been made almost into a nest. Howard's been bringing back things from the gift shops, the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, and Tomorrowland pretty much every day. There are two makeshift beds for him and Wyatt made of ratty, moldy old towels and moth-eaten stuffed animals. A pile of netting sits off to the side, for catching fish. There's a firepit dug up, with spits made of sticks, and several thermoses full of water from the river.
Right now, while Wyatt's out checking some of the animal snares, Howard sleeps. It's a light sleep, one interrupted by wakefulness whenever there's a sharp noise, but it's rest enough. His hood is pulled up over his head, hiding his mangled face. The stolen souvenir clothing is so oversized it makes him look like a little grey and blue lump.
His hands clench around a stuffed Bagheera's leg in one fist and a knife in the other.
WHAT| Boobytraps all up in here.
WHERE| Thunder Mountain (Frontierland)
WHEN| Week 4
WARNINGS/NOTES| None yet.
Thunder Mountain is a death trap. Howard's made it that way. A few people, like Wyatt, know how to get past the precautions Howard's set up, but otherwise it's a rather ingenious array of rigged boobytraps. In a way, Howard's actually enjoyed working on his 'security system' to the little tunnel he and Wyatt and R have occupied. It's taken time to think up, time that he could spend thinking of Eponine or thinking of dying or just thinking about the excruciating pain of having his body heal up. And then it's taken time to implement.
The bridge to the tunnel on each side has had most of the railing stripped out, and the boards on the track have been replaced by rotten ones from near the water. Pieces will fall out if stepped on. A few snares lie in wait in the darker parts of the coaster, ready to catch an unsuspecting foot. There are trip-wires, as well, some of which lead to bells or collapses of piles of stuff as alarms, and some of which tug at precariously-set coaster cars. It's not perfect, and many of the traps can be easily identified or won't work properly when tripped, but it's somewhat impressive nonetheless.
The tunnel itself has been made almost into a nest. Howard's been bringing back things from the gift shops, the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, and Tomorrowland pretty much every day. There are two makeshift beds for him and Wyatt made of ratty, moldy old towels and moth-eaten stuffed animals. A pile of netting sits off to the side, for catching fish. There's a firepit dug up, with spits made of sticks, and several thermoses full of water from the river.
Right now, while Wyatt's out checking some of the animal snares, Howard sleeps. It's a light sleep, one interrupted by wakefulness whenever there's a sharp noise, but it's rest enough. His hood is pulled up over his head, hiding his mangled face. The stolen souvenir clothing is so oversized it makes him look like a little grey and blue lump.
His hands clench around a stuffed Bagheera's leg in one fist and a knife in the other.
no subject
"It's not just talk. Look, maybe it'd be talk if everyone here was soft and cuddly, but..." He gestures to his mangled face with the knife. "I'm just warning you now. People are playing for keeps. People are having fun with it, because they're sick."
He's fifteen. A grown man held him down and twisted a knife in his chest and stomach last time.
no subject
no subject
"Look, I don't know if this is some kind of like, personal agenda for you, but..." He cringes back again, into the wall. "Don't take it personal that I don't trust your first aid schtick. All you done for me so far is prove my camp here isn't safe."
no subject
Steph shrugged and stood back up, gathering just over half of the strips of fabric and stuffed them into the top of her dress. Oh, if only that little troll Damian could see this; she'd never live it down. "Don't sell yourself short on the whole traps thing. If I didn't have the training I do I probably would have totally fallen to my death."
It was more than clear that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this guy and all she was doing was wasting time. Fine, he could have his little cave back. "I'm leaving and I promise not to spill the beans on your nest. Use the fabric to wrap some of those wounds so you don't pick at them and if you run into something, well, I'll help if I can." If he'd let her.
no subject
"Look, Stephanie, I..." There's an expression on his face that's sad, yearning, almost. "I'm sorry. This is the way the game gets played."
Nothing makes him feel worse than feeling as if paranoia is akin to madness.
no subject
She leaves hoping he won't give into this chaos again.