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)
thearena2013-08-10 11:46 pm
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in thearena2013-08-10 11:46 pm
Entry tags:
Everybody Dies [Closed]
Who| Howard, Alpha, R, Julie, John Watson, Tim Drake-Wayne (?)
What| Howard's last days in the Arena.
Where| Both Arenas.
When| Last few weeks.
Warnings| Zombification and gore in the thread with R and Julie.
He doesn't tell Diana where he's going. She'd laugh at him if he did, or worse, she'd believe him. I'm off to hunt down the man who tried to kill me, and then I'm going to kill him. At this point he's not certain what he is in her head, the scrawny kid who sold drugs and ran from gunfire or the killer who burned people alive, and he's also not sure why he cares.
When Diana wakes up, hair full of sticky pieces of candy, Howard just tells her he'll be back in a few hours and heads off, letting the smell of sugar and the pinkish yellow sun envelop him. He imagines walking into, and through, a horizon. One hand is at his knife, and the other over his rainbow-colored bag filled with explosives. He finds high ground and he watches for his target.
Eventually, he sees a flash of blonde hair. And he slides down the gingerbread hill, teeth gritted, eye that isn't behind the eyepatch narrowed.
Last Week
He spends more time in the tunnels. The bear traps he's dug up guard the entrances. He generally prefers the sandy, rocky side, including the little mine tracks that lead up to the end, because at least it's a nice break from the monotony of candyland. He sleeps with his knife close, his throwing stars in his pocket, some broken arrow tips tucked into his belt loops. His clothing is tattered to ribbons at the sleeves and ankles.
He told Wyatt he'd win. He promised.
He and Diana cross each other's paths less now. They spend more and more time scavenging for food as it becomes scarcer and scarcer. Soon the watering hole dries up, and most of the day is spent looking for alternate sources. They've dug a little gutter at the top of the cave, but no rain comes to fill it.
He plans on waiting out the last week.
What| Howard's last days in the Arena.
Where| Both Arenas.
When| Last few weeks.
Warnings| Zombification and gore in the thread with R and Julie.
He doesn't tell Diana where he's going. She'd laugh at him if he did, or worse, she'd believe him. I'm off to hunt down the man who tried to kill me, and then I'm going to kill him. At this point he's not certain what he is in her head, the scrawny kid who sold drugs and ran from gunfire or the killer who burned people alive, and he's also not sure why he cares.
When Diana wakes up, hair full of sticky pieces of candy, Howard just tells her he'll be back in a few hours and heads off, letting the smell of sugar and the pinkish yellow sun envelop him. He imagines walking into, and through, a horizon. One hand is at his knife, and the other over his rainbow-colored bag filled with explosives. He finds high ground and he watches for his target.
Eventually, he sees a flash of blonde hair. And he slides down the gingerbread hill, teeth gritted, eye that isn't behind the eyepatch narrowed.
Last Week
He spends more time in the tunnels. The bear traps he's dug up guard the entrances. He generally prefers the sandy, rocky side, including the little mine tracks that lead up to the end, because at least it's a nice break from the monotony of candyland. He sleeps with his knife close, his throwing stars in his pocket, some broken arrow tips tucked into his belt loops. His clothing is tattered to ribbons at the sleeves and ankles.
He told Wyatt he'd win. He promised.
He and Diana cross each other's paths less now. They spend more and more time scavenging for food as it becomes scarcer and scarcer. Soon the watering hole dries up, and most of the day is spent looking for alternate sources. They've dug a little gutter at the top of the cave, but no rain comes to fill it.
He plans on waiting out the last week.
Re: Diana
That's the point when he reaches out and wraps his bony fingers, made more shriveled by the desert around them and death and weeks of dehydration, around her ankle, and tugs. It's not a light tug either - not a jerk, but strong, all muscle that tenses because it can't really go slack.
Re: Diana
It's impluse.
She brings the rock in her hand smashing against not-Howards face.
Re: Diana
Re: Diana
She tries to run. She pulls, she struggles. She claws at the rock beside her.
In a desperate attempt she flings her whole body in the opposite direction. Something goes wrong. She feels herself go down. Her leg turns. Her foot doesn't. It's still stuck in Howards hand.
There's a sharp sound. Pain explodes in her ankle. She smashes to the ground. Her knee crashes against hard rock. She doesn't know what happened. She can't bend her leg anymore. She's in agony.
Her whole side throbs in pain. Her leg feels like it's on fire. White hot. It feels wrong. There's only a painful thing that used to be a limb attached to her now.
She can vaguely hear herself sobbing. "Let go. Let go."
She should lay down. She should let it happen. Just less than a minute and it'll all be over.
No. No. It can't happen this way. She doesn't want to die. She can't die. Every part of her body denies it. It must keep trying. She must keep trying.
Diana sucks in a shuddering breath through her gritted teeth and screams. "I said let go!"
She pulls her working knee up and her foot comes down to collide violently with Howards jaw.
Re: Diana
"Hnnngry," he offers her, as if it's an explanation. As if it's a plea, one that he no longer recognizes from his past. The sickness is merciful in that it erased everything, all the horror that is now only stamped on Howard's body, on his slight frame and the health problems that are miniscule compared to the ghost of starving.
He starts to rise to his feet.
Re: Diana
She can feel how wet her face is, probably from all the crying she must be doing. She still can't hear herself though, can't focus on the loud sobbing escaping her throat in large, shoulder shaking bursts.
Diana's not sure what part of her even has enough wits about it to notice but she's aware of movement behind her. He's still coming after her. She needs to move quicker.
Her body clenching and twitching in agony, she grasps at the cave wall, clinging to rock, clawing herself up. Her weight pressed against it, she tries to head for the cave mouth, but every step bring fresh pain.
Re: Diana
She smells so alive, so tantalizing, and with whatever happened to her leg he can tell she's injured. Howard has no interest in cruelty, and if he were capable of speech he might tell her he'll make it quick, that he'll just bite her neck. She'll die in a minute, just a minute, all she'll have to suffer is less than sixty seconds of being gnawed at and ripped apart.
Re: Diana
She couldn't feel her leg anymore. Pain, yes. Not a leg. Just something weighing her down. If she tried to get down the rocks like this she'd just end up breaking her neck.
She takes one last look over her shoulder and starts heading down.
It's exactly 5 seconds before her working leg struggles to hold her up and she falls. The world's a blur of cutting and thumping pain as she rolls down the hillside.
Re: Diana
Go, says the hunger. Follow her.
But some part of Howard likes to preserve himself, likes to turn away when things get hard. And so he lets her fall away, and dropping to his knees again, crawls deeper into the cave.