gardienne: (scared)
Eponine Thenardier ([personal profile] gardienne) wrote in [community profile] thearena2013-07-05 10:15 pm

The Darkest Night Will End... right?

 Who: Eponine and OPEN to ARENA 2 people
What: Eponine's gone a-wandering in the desert
Where: Somewhere in arena 2
When: Some time during the night time 
Warnings: Unless you guys want to bring any?

It's night time in the arena and now Eponine is glad for her long sleeves and her velvet dress.  It's been strangely okay so far, this arena. Not too many deaths. Not too little food - or perhaps she just hadn't got used to the sumptuous luxury of the Capitol. Either way, between her bottle of water and the horrible cacti, she's okay. Just a little bored. 

Whilst her friends sleep, Eponine wanders. She's on the look out really, for food, for weapons - anything that will keep her alive for a little longer. And, of course, she is on the look out for danger.

But tonight, Eponine hasn't found danger, or weapons, or even food. What she has found is one of the screens, projecting images from the first arena. She stands for a minute, watching the other tributes in wonder. And then a face so familiar, so dear to her, flashes onscreen. Howard.

At once, Eponine is closer to the screen, pawing at Howard's face magnified as it is. But then she steps back because Howard has suddenly somehow burst into flames before her very eyes. Startled, she lets out a yelp and scrambles back, settling cross legged in the sand as she watches him trying to put out the fire, knowing she can do nothing to help him.

"HOWARD, YOU ARE A SILLY!"

Her shout of despair echoes in the still night, and Eponine claps a hand over her mouth in horror. She hopes nobody heard that.
polyturtle: (bo's up your nose)

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-07 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
He was a monster. Fully and truly. Even without the blood on his hands, and he could no longer escape that. Or the anger, or the horror, or-

In any case. Eponine was fast, but Don was quicker, having learned his lesson from his encounter with Joan. He leans to the side, avoiding most of the sand with ease.

And if she ran? Well, shell, he was going after her. He had to kill her, after all.
polyturtle: (WHERE IS THE BATHROOM)

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-08 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
Unfortunately it was enough time. Too much time. And with that, he was on her, and he didn't bother swinging the scythe again. At least not yet. He didn't want to give her the time to dodge him again.

So he merely lunged forward and, scythe crooked away, threw a nice, hard, roundhouse punch at her head. A move he intended to repeat until she collapsed from the force or her face became a bloody pulp. Both were preferable.
whosalicewhite: (I can hurt you)

/threadjacks

[personal profile] whosalicewhite 2013-07-08 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
There isn't a yell, just the the soft whoosh of a familiar weapon.

Parker has every intention of imbedding it in his shell. She didn't give anyone permission to kill Eponine, even if she isn't Eponine's damn anything.
polyturtle: (WHERE IS THE BATHROOM)

Re: /threadjacks

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-08 06:36 pm (UTC)(link)
A rather angry, pained hiss came from Don as the scythe hit its mark. Granted, it was the tip stabbing into his shell, impaling his lower back. When all was said and done, any piece of shell that might come off would be small. Not anywhere near the size of Leonardo's injury, back home.

But it was his shell. Litterally his spine. And oh, shell oh shell, did it hurt. And it spurred Don back on. His attention turned towards Parker, and the rage within him - which was really directed at everyone in this hole, every Tribute, every citizen, and yet no one at the same time - boiled over.

He turned, the scythe yanking out a chunk of shell oh, ah, aaaaah for a roundhouse sweep to the interloper's ankles.
whosalicewhite: (punching)

Re: /threadjacks

[personal profile] whosalicewhite 2013-07-09 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Parker ducks. By duck, it means falls to the ground, slamming the scythe into the ground for both leverage, and to get the chunk of shell off the end.

She's managed to avoid it this time, but the shell doesn't come off the end, making her weapon far less useful.

"Hey, turtle SOUP!" A fraction of a second later she yells at Eponine, "GET UP!"
polyturtle: (WHERE IS THE BATHROOM)

Re: /threadjacks

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-11 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
Turtle soup. Ha. How old.

Don didn't even bother swinging again, not yet. He could feel what direction the scythe was coming from in his back, so he simple slid off and rolled away. Pain shot up his side and down to his leg when he did.

He ignored it. He simply got up to a crouching position, staring at Parker once he turned to face her.

"Don't make this more complicated than it needs to be."
polyturtle: (WHERE IS THE BATHROOM)

Re: /threadjacks

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-12 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Shell.

Don's mouth opened again, and his eyes shut, as the pain surged through him once more. Without a second thought - really, without even thinking, as the pain clouded even his already clouded judgement - his hands turned and swung wildly with a hard backhand towards whatever was causing the pain.

Stop. Stop it. NOW.
polyturtle: (WHERE IS THE BATHROOM)

Re: /threadjacks

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-12 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
The pain caused Don to drop to a knee, letting out a silent, soundless scream. His entire right side threatened to spasm from the sheer agony. Like touching a raw, exposed spinal nerve, perhaps if the other twisted hard enough he could be a puppet for her.

Well, not really. But it was overwhelming pain. Was this what Leonardo felt when Karai had attacked him? Did he still feel those kind of echoes? Was it the kind of pain to spur on that anger that had been in his older brother's heart?

At least he had an idea as to the answer to that last answer. And on his knee, Don was in a better position to roll away and counterstrike. And that was precisely what he did, without warning, finally catching the breath and scream and shoving both back into his lungs. This time, however, he kicked, hard, at her chest.

A strong monster, huh.

She was quite presumptuous to think he didn't know that.
whosalicewhite: (I can hurt you)

Re: /threadjacks

[personal profile] whosalicewhite 2013-07-12 09:55 pm (UTC)(link)
There may be a strong monster, but there are two women who've lived by their wits, one of whom isn't entirely sane.

Parker's back up, shell still stuck to her scythe, and thus, she uses it as a blunt force weapon, aiming it for his head.

She hangs off of buildings by fingertips. If it connects, things might not end so well for Don.

This time, the attack is wordless, silent, and almost coming from nowhere.
polyturtle: (WHERE IS THE BATHROOM)

Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-12 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It was probably sheer luck that Don was already in movement with the kick. The hit by Park smacked down with a puft of sandy dust, inches from his head. By the time that dust had settled, Don was back on his feet.

But with his right side slightly sagged, the nerves still in shock and damaged somehow from Eponine's attack. He ignored the pain for the moment. All he felt was slowly building rage.

The people needed to die. Didn't they get it?

Why were not not dying!?
whosalicewhite: (punching)

Re: Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] whosalicewhite 2013-07-12 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, if his right side is the weak spot, that's where Parker'll aim next.

There's an overdramatic and poorly placed "HI-YA" with this one. Hardison's been watching too many terrible ninja movies.

"Stupid TORTOISE."

She does mean that as an insult.
polyturtle: (bo's up your nose)

Re: Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-12 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
What is it with Parker and terrible insults?

He blocked it, using his left arm to control the scythe so they both crossed. He said nothing in reply to the comment, and the look on his face didn't change. He just kept focused on Parker, on killing Parker, on hurting her.
whosalicewhite: (gun)

Re: Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] whosalicewhite 2013-07-12 10:59 pm (UTC)(link)
It's what she does. Ask Eliot.

Oh, she wants a piece of this turtle, and more than what was on the end of her scythe, and if the left arm was busy, maybe his right knee (do turtles have knees? Parker has no idea) won't be so flexible (pun intended).

Taking a chance, Parker plants her right heel, and kicks out with her left leg. The problem with this is, she's within arm's reach, but desperation calls for desperate moves.
polyturtle: (oh so that's a falcon punch)

Re: Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-13 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
It was true. His right side was messed up. But not entirely useless. In fact, he let the kick connect, so he can fall down again to a knee. He again ignored the pain. It seems odd he would do that. Or perhaps he wasn't thinking totally straight from the pain. Surely that was it. Even his grip on his scythe seemed to weaken just so.

He wasn't doing a feint. Not at all.
Edited 2013-07-13 00:48 (UTC)
whosalicewhite: (dark profile)

Re: Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] whosalicewhite 2013-07-29 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Parker doesn't fight to injure (okay, sometimes she does, but that's a by-product) but to get away, to get her opponent to run. Either way, she's not keen on killing the turtle, just not dying from him.

Instead of coming forward, Parker pulls away, trying to bring the scythe with her. How this works is simple. she pulls in the opposite direction from Eponine, meaning a war on two fronts.
polyturtle: (bo's up your nose)

Re: Threadjacks ahoooooy

[personal profile] polyturtle 2013-07-31 12:41 am (UTC)(link)
Close up, further off - it didn't matter to Don. What did matter was making sure the scythe didn't hit him again, and so he went inward and rolled sideways to avoid it, his leg screaming at him in anger for the affront. The pain multiplied with he was shell down and sand came in oh shell shell SHELL but it mattered not.

His two knives had been more than ready, and he threw them both. One, with acute sense of direction, went towards Parker. The other, with less of an idea of where the target was, went at Eponine. He would still have seven left. He was ok with that.