thearena | (no subject)

Who| Anyone who replied here

What| A supply cache

Where| The Tarzan/Swiss Family Robinson Tree house

When| Early morning

Warnings/Notes| The winning rolls are under the cut. Also, an OOC note: Deathrolls will be a day late this week.

The house hasn't stood the test of time well.

All the rope bridges are gone, and the stairs aren't doing well either, sagging and rotted wood. The platforms are in a bit better shape, though some stagger under the weight of their fake props and the remains of figures that once decorated the attraction.

Although anything truly useful had been taken sometime before this arena by other hands looking to survive, enough useless props still clung to make the nature of the location obvious. And even without the bridges and stairs, the solid tree had plenty of grips to scramble up.

The 6 bags were spread throughout the platform, made of aged looking net and rope. Within could be found a butterfly knife, a flint to make fire, a length of rope, two cans of food, and drops to purify water. A valuable bag to grab.

Akane
Parker
Steph
Anna
Barbara
Steve

Alas, Bruce doesn't make it, and Tim and Sandy sustain serious injury.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ollie had liked her attitude enough although that was back in her Spoiler days, so who knew how he'd act around Batgirl 3.0.

She's careful to check for traps and evidence of other players; the last thing they needed was to be caught unaware and essentially down a man, but the building was clear. Steph pulled off her cape and set it down on the dirty ground. "Sit. I'll find something to burn." That was easy as there was plenty of wood still hanging onto the old building. She dropped her bag at Tim's feet as she walked by. "See what we won." Hopefully medicine and food. God she wanted a waffle.

Tim sits - okay, he practically drops to the ground. He pulls his knees up, cradling his arm on his stomach, and starts digging through the bag, neatly lining up the contents beside him. He takes his time with each item - if this is what the Capitol calls a feast, there has to be something to learn from it.

He finds the two cans of food first, heavy and large. The labels are in English, but that's not a surprise. The announcement was in English as well. The first can he withdraws from the bag is a stew; the picture on the label makes it look hearty. The second one is canned pineapple, which is so light and sugary and frivolous that he wonders if they'd prefer Tributes dropping dead of exhaustion.

A flint. Oh, thank God. That'll make having a fire faster. "Steph, there's a flint. Don't bother trying to find twigs."

A small vial of some liquid, with a dropper in its lid. Tim holds it a few inches below his nose. It doesn't smell like a poison, but a lot of them, like nicotine, are odorless. He sets it aside for now.

The rope comes out last, its bulk had pulled it to the bottom of the pack. Tangled in its coils is a butterfly knife. Tim grabs it immediately, flipping it open and spinning it around his fingers. There's a nice weight to it, and Tim throws it upward, catching it so that it closes simultaneously. "And a knife for you."

It only takes a few short minutes before Stephanie tosses down enough wood to build a fire. She piles it into a pyramid before reaching for the flint. The silence is nice as opposed to the chaos of reaching the supplies, but it gives her far too much time to analyze what went wrong.

She should have gone up. She's lighter than Tim and the boards may have taken her weight better when that kid fell on her.

Of course that would have been impossible if they had just avoided the place in the first place. The supplies were indispensable, but they weren't worth the life of Bruce, even a Bruce that didn't know her.

With the fire going she reached out for Tim's arm a bit fast. "We need to stop the bleeding. Leslie taught me how to set bones but it's going to hurt."

"Wait," he said sharply, leaning out of her reach and scooping up the rope. He hated to cut it, it'd never have the same strength if they have to tie both cords back together for length. So, he made do, working with one loose end.

It was predictably awkward, tying the tourniquet around his own arm, but this wasn't about perfect. Steph could retie it later. This was about fast, before panic set in. A loop slid over his broken arm, and he turned into a slipknot up above his elbow, pulled it tight with his left hand. Tim wrapped his hand in the free end of the rope several times and then caught the dangling end in between his teeth. He didn't want to alert other Tributes with screaming.

"Do it," he mumbled around the rope as he held his arm out to Steph.

Normally such a drastic fracture would be left alone until a professional could look at it. Stephanie may have had a bit of training thanks to Leslie but she was still no doctor. She took Tim's pulse and mentally prepared taking back every groan and sigh she had given Leslie during her lessons.

"One, two, THREE." She pushed the bone down while pulling his arm at the same time. Quickly she wrapped a strip of fabric around the wound to stem the bleeding and took a moment to check the pulse in his arm again. It was strong and there was no discoloration setting in. "I didn't pinch anything." She hoped that was said in her head.

She turned two bits of wooden floorboard into splints and wrapped those with more fabric. He would still be out of commission with that arm, but at least he was less likely to die of blood loss or bone infection. Once she finished she checked his pulse once more before sitting back with a sigh. With one hand she reached for the can of pineapples. "You need to replace your sugars. Drink the juice if you're not hungry."

Though he was prepared for it, Tim found himself biting down on the rope to silence himself. His left hand had jerked and pulled the tourniquet too tight, but he was afraid to loosen it just yet. The wound was already bleeding as he watched Steph's careful bandage job.

It was twisted to be grateful that she was here, and yet, he was. He wished Steph was safe, but there weren't many he'd prefer here. She was capable - something as simple as setting his arm had probably just saved his life as much as Bruce had.

Bruce.

He trusted Stephanie with his emotions, too, and when he leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, the threatening tears that were soaked up by his eyelashes weren't entirely from physical pain.

"No luck on the metal?" He asked after clearing his throat. His voice sounded thicker. Rough. It was the best he could manage, but he hoped she wouldn't comment. "I have a Plan B, if we can't cauterize them."

She opened the can and slid it towards him. "This fire won't get hot enough before someone finds us." They were still close to the treehouse and Steph didn't want to have to fight some other player or creature while Tim was hurt. "We should pack up and move before someone comes looking for leftovers."

Moving was easy. Easier than sitting here staring at Tim's half-fixed arm and thinking about that red water. This part of being who they were...there were no easy lessons on how to handle losing someone. She swallowed a lump in her throat and slowly repacked the bag. "Drink the juice, Timmy."

Right. He should have known that. Why hadn't he?

Steph was right about moving. Someone had to have noticed them heading off, the fall, the water, the bloodied, soaked teen being lead off. Anyone who thinks they can take out a teenaged girl could be after them, hoping to eliminate two for the price of one.

Tim was nauseous and didn't want to drink anything right now, let alone something as sweet as pineapple juice. This was the second time that Steph had suggested it, though, and the third time would probably involve force-feeding. No, thank you. Tim fumbled at the pop-top of the can, pulling the lid back just enough to drink from the can without completely opening it. He was going to make Steph eat the pineapple when they got somewhere safer. He might have lost blood, but she's lost as much weight as he has.

When she finished re-packing the bag, Tim got to his feet, sliding his back up against the wall for support. He was steadier when he was standing, but, with his good hand holding the can, he wasn't able to just push up on a knee to get himself up. "Where are we heading? I haven't seen anything that would hide the smoke from a fire."

It was hard not to dwell on losing Bruce, but she had to for both their sakes. Putting her emotions in a tightly closed box just wasn't Stephanie's style, but then she'd never had to work so hard to survive something that seemed so impossible. Going up against the Calculator or some Joker wannabe was easy because it was what she signed on for and spent all those long hours training to do; going up against civilians in some game to the death was madness. It made her stomach hurt to think about so she just didn't think.

She had to wonder if this was how Bruce managed all those years.

Steph tied her cape back on and tosses some dirt onto their fire. "West maybe? I've only scouted around these areas really. Found the bow and arrows in Frontier Town or whatever it's called. There's the castle but that's a bit too conspicuous. Any ideas?"