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Entry tags:
I never knew daylight could be so violent [OPEN]
Who| Marius, Nepeta, Lindsey, Ian, and OPEN!
What| YOU get free food, and YOU get free food, EVERYONE gets free food! Encounter options available under the cut.
Where| Arena 2
When| Week 3
Warnings/Notes| Hunting, thoughts on suicide, Pontmercying
➳ Hunting for elk!
Even Marius cannot remain oblivious with the sky's abrupt changes from dark to light, and for the first few hours he attempts to make a rough estimate of the length of daytime and nighttime. Around two to three hours each, perhaps? It's not exactly the most precise, he is aware, but it is enough for him to devise his plans around it.
That is to say, if he had any plans.
He forces himself to swallow, mouth and throat dry as he trudges through the desert heat, lips chapping and Romeo costume that is now caked in dried mud sticking to his skin. He's not quite planned lasting this long in the arena, and he's honestly confused and more than a little lost. What is he to do now?
A low bark that lasts for several seconds echoes throughout the area then, almost seemingly in response to his thoughts. He crouches low, crossbow in hand, and peers from his slightly elevated spot of land to find a lone elk trotting slowly across the sand. It comes to a stop, ears twitching, then bows its head to graze on a tuft of browning ricegrass.
There's a brief moment wherein Marius considers simply leaving the elk to be. Why would he harm it when he has no need for its meat, when he intends to die? But then he remembers the other people in the Arena, and maybe it's his own little rebellion against the Capitol's games but he refuses to play their killing game. Instead of destroying them, will help his fellow Tributes survive. His father would have done the same, he thinks. Cosette may have wanted it of him.
So he raises his crossbow and takes aim for the elk's lungs, brow furrowed in concentration and eyes narrowed to slits.
➳ Getting a sponsor bag
The cold penetrates to his very bones and Marius huddles involuntarily against his sleeping bag as a shiver wracks his body. He shifts a little, intending to crawl into the bag, but a moment of hopelessness and depression strikes him suddenly then, and all he manages to do is to stare at it blankly.
What is the point to all this struggle? He could simply allow the cold to take him. He will merely return to the Capitol anyway, if he dies. Or perhaps another Arena? He hasn't the faintest idea of what's running through the Gamemakers's minds. Perhaps he doesn't care. He just wants this to end, right here and now. To die so that he could at least glimpse again the face of his beloved Cosette in the moment between the last traces of consciousness and temporary death. To look into her eyes and feel her hand against his cheek before darkness consumes him.
He does not even notice the descending bag until it's right before him, and he blinks and raises his hands for it to land on. He unwraps it to find some water bottles, enough to last him for two days. His head tilts slightly as an almost quizzical look crosses his face, as if he doesn't really know what to do with it.
Perhaps he could pass it on to someone who needs it more, should he encounter them.
What| YOU get free food, and YOU get free food, EVERYONE gets free food! Encounter options available under the cut.
Where| Arena 2
When| Week 3
Warnings/Notes| Hunting, thoughts on suicide, Pontmercying
➳ Hunting for elk!
Even Marius cannot remain oblivious with the sky's abrupt changes from dark to light, and for the first few hours he attempts to make a rough estimate of the length of daytime and nighttime. Around two to three hours each, perhaps? It's not exactly the most precise, he is aware, but it is enough for him to devise his plans around it.
That is to say, if he had any plans.
He forces himself to swallow, mouth and throat dry as he trudges through the desert heat, lips chapping and Romeo costume that is now caked in dried mud sticking to his skin. He's not quite planned lasting this long in the arena, and he's honestly confused and more than a little lost. What is he to do now?
A low bark that lasts for several seconds echoes throughout the area then, almost seemingly in response to his thoughts. He crouches low, crossbow in hand, and peers from his slightly elevated spot of land to find a lone elk trotting slowly across the sand. It comes to a stop, ears twitching, then bows its head to graze on a tuft of browning ricegrass.
There's a brief moment wherein Marius considers simply leaving the elk to be. Why would he harm it when he has no need for its meat, when he intends to die? But then he remembers the other people in the Arena, and maybe it's his own little rebellion against the Capitol's games but he refuses to play their killing game. Instead of destroying them, will help his fellow Tributes survive. His father would have done the same, he thinks. Cosette may have wanted it of him.
So he raises his crossbow and takes aim for the elk's lungs, brow furrowed in concentration and eyes narrowed to slits.
➳ Getting a sponsor bag
The cold penetrates to his very bones and Marius huddles involuntarily against his sleeping bag as a shiver wracks his body. He shifts a little, intending to crawl into the bag, but a moment of hopelessness and depression strikes him suddenly then, and all he manages to do is to stare at it blankly.
What is the point to all this struggle? He could simply allow the cold to take him. He will merely return to the Capitol anyway, if he dies. Or perhaps another Arena? He hasn't the faintest idea of what's running through the Gamemakers's minds. Perhaps he doesn't care. He just wants this to end, right here and now. To die so that he could at least glimpse again the face of his beloved Cosette in the moment between the last traces of consciousness and temporary death. To look into her eyes and feel her hand against his cheek before darkness consumes him.
He does not even notice the descending bag until it's right before him, and he blinks and raises his hands for it to land on. He unwraps it to find some water bottles, enough to last him for two days. His head tilts slightly as an almost quizzical look crosses his face, as if he doesn't really know what to do with it.
Perhaps he could pass it on to someone who needs it more, should he encounter them.
no subject
But hey maybe he could get good enough that his last word could be in French or something. Might as well put it to use.
Ca va? He grinned and then spoke, "And that is about the grand mass of my French knowledge."