thearena | (no subject)

Who| Harley and Open
What| Harley wandering around arena 2 looking for trouble and friends
Where| The Desert without Desserts.
When| The Beginning of week 3
Warnings/Notes| None yet, but Harley is open to wounding, maiming or killing so please request it if you're interested.

Harley was starting to get done with this arena.

Sure she wanted the crowds back home to love her but...she missed out on Candyland for this mess?

Trotting along in her ragged pink pony costume with it's bobbing bobble eyed head piece hanging off her shoulders like a hood she had left Donnie to his own devices for a spell. She liked his new aggressive and homicidal attitude, but he wasn't as much fun to talk to. And he didn't seem to appreciate her attempts to start sing-a-longs or play eye spy.

And so she was skipping, trotting or sometimes cartwheeling and casually dining on a can of pork and beans that she'd been saving since finding them at the cornucopia.

"If I don't find something fun to do they might replace me with reruns." She muttered to herself as she tipped the can back and let some beans and pork chunks falling into her mouth.

Threaded | Flat

By the time day and night go completely haywire, Eddie is not exactly thriving, but he's settled into a routine that's keeping him alive, at least so far. Ragged, dusty and blistered, he keeps himself moving, gradually expanding a circuit to set and monitor his traps, and to keep watch.

Early last week, he was gifted a spool of wire, and that provided quite the spark of inspiration. In his enthusiasm, he's worked himself to the point where his left hand is too painfully swollen now to be of much use, and to where his water supply is running dangerously low. So, much of his time is spent painfully despining cacti, and the rest, either on foot along his routes, or hiding. Trying to rest, not getting terribly much sleep at all. There are those monitors, and they seem to be keen on showing him his own body rotting away, over in the other arena. That is not amusing.

No new water, no new gifts, though, and he suspects it's because he has yet to live up to the promise of his efforts. He has not won any confrontation, trapped no one, and given the size of the playing field, it's not surprising. His initial territory served well to let him establish himself, but now he needs to step this up.

All the snares and little rockfalls do yield a prize, though. Somehow, he's caught one of the horned rabbits, and he's carrying its carcass as he slinks along through the brush. He stops often to take cover and survey the surroundings. This is when he spots something glaringly pink off in the distance. He watches for a good while, evaluating his options, then makes the decision to head toward Harley.

Ruby was well outfitted. True, her red dress was in tatters, and her wig had long since gone missing. But she had a coil of rope around her waist, a scythe tucked under her arm, and a cross bow in her hand. She had a bit of meat, some snakes and small animals, tucked among the ropes. Food for later.

She'd drawn her bow when she heard a noise. She half lowered it when she spotted Harley, though not entirely. She wasn't sure how far she wanted to trust the woman. Maybe she should just slip off....