thearena | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Atticus Bell, Asha Greyjoy, Kurt Hummel
What| Atticus is going out with a gurgle
Where| along the milkshake river
When| Evening-ish, midweek
Warnings/Notes| Death! And probably a little angst

After Blaine's death, Atticus had been trying to keep close to Kurt, to make sure he was okay, or at least that he wasn't going to give up like Blaine had before. He felt like he owed it to the guy. There didn't seem to be any actual water in this arena, but there was a river at least, so Atticus figured that was the best place for them to stay near, mostly in the trees, but close enough they could get to the river if they needed to.

"Hey, how are you at tree-climbing?" he asked Kurt, keeping his voice down just in case any of the other Tributes were near by.

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Kurt covered his mouth, stifling any more noise. Frantically he began to look around for something he could use as a weapon, but there was nothing around but branches too thick for him to snap.

He wished Atticus could turn around and run. Why was he just standing there?

Atticus was tempted to answer her. In movies they always did. There was always some kind of banter before the fight. But he wasn't prepared to fight. He had nothing to fight with, and he could already tell he wouldn't be changing any time soon.

So instead of trying (and probably failing) for some clever quip in response, he ran instead, away from the tree Kurt was in. He'd try to get up another one eventually, but not until he'd led her away from Kurt.

As soon as he moved, she ran, a hand on her weapon. There may be another, but unless they had crossbows she would be able to withstand it-- and if they did have crossbows, they would have used them by now, or else they were more foolish than she thought. There would be time to hunt down the other one later, but if she wanted to make her mark, she'd have to be sure not to let this one get away.

She was used to running in chainmail, used to being weighed down by even more, and so she moved like there was nothing there, intent on cutting off his escape options and boxing him in against the river

They were running out of Kurt's field of vision, and he couldn't stay put anymore. Atticus had helped him before, so there was no way he was going to sit in a tree and let him get hurt.

Gracefully he slipped down the branches and out of the tree, and moved as swiftly and quietly as possible as he followed the pair, sticking close to where foliage would hide him from sight.

Atticus, on the other hand, was used to being able to run much faster, much easier than he currently could. He could hear her behind him, and that was good. That meant she was running away from Kurt.

It was too late, though, by the time he realized he was running toward the river. He tried to change direction to make for the trees again.

She moved to cut him off, trying to keep him boxed in against the river, breathing only slightly irregular. It was the thrill of the fight that got her, and considering it was just about the only good thing in this entire bloody place, she was going to indulge it.

It was a shame he didn't seem to have much on him, but he was old enough that she didn't feel guilty for pursuing anyway. "As I said, I'll make it quick if you like," she offered, her smile confident with no room for being persuaded otherwise-- the quicker the better, especially considering she had to deal with the other one as well.

"Atticus, run!"

Kurt couldn't help himself. He couldn't let someone else die in front of him, not after that girl. It didn't matter to him if that made him a target now.

"Don't you think I'm fucking trying?" Atticus yelled back, now utterly annoyed that he hadn't eve managed to lead her away from Kurt after all that. "You run!"

He was boxed in, chocolate river to his back and the girl with the dagger in front of him, and Kurt off somewhere watching the whole thing instead of getting himself to safety like he should be doing.

He wasn't trained for fighting either, though he'd been trying to do some training between arenas. He still had only a rudimentary grasp of what to do with a sword, and he had no sword right now anyway. Still, he thought if he could keep her distracted, last just long enough, Kurt might still be able to get away.

Or he might get lucky and neither of them would die today, but that seemed like a little much to hope for.

He crouched slightly debating whether to simply charge her or take his chances in trying to get around her. Knowing he wasn't as fast as he would normally be, though, he decided on the direct approach, barreling toward her, shoulder dropped to both protect his vital bits and maybe bowl her over.

And hope that Kurt was smart enough to take his own advice.

She glanced over her shoulder at the shout, not fully turning away but diverting her attention for a second—so the other one was still here. She was tensed for an attack from the other one, expecting some sort of blow to switch her attention, but turned back just as the one in front of her charged. She braced herself, legs adopting an easy, practiced stance born from years of fighting on pitching boats, but it was a second too late, and the momentum was enough to stagger her back, shoulder pressing against chainmail into her stomach.

She caught her balance as quickly as possible, taking a few steps back before her back foot dug solidly against the ground, and shoved back with a snarl, both to regain the bit of lost ground and to move into a better position to get her knife in.

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