Lindsey McDonald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hartless_cowboy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2013-07-03 12:12 am
hartless_cowboy) wrote in thearena2013-07-03 12:12 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] ► Week 2 | Arena 2 Desert
WHO| Lindsey and [OPEN]
WHAT| Attempted murder, mayhem, Lindsey playing (death) god.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Arena 2 - Somewhere in the desert?
WARNINGS/NOTES| PG for deaths?
For the next arena, Lindsey was having serious conversations with his stylist. At least at night, he could appreciate that he was dressed as Batman. It was layers, it was black, it kept him somewhat warm and allowed him to hide in the night. Few would see him coming up to them.
Now, with a 9 foot scythe, he was a frightening figure to behold. He even put the cowl back on to hide his features further, to keep more of his pale face from reflecting white in the darkness and scare any tributes he came across. Of course, it kept the cold winds out of his face. His cape unfortunately had to be sacrificed in order to pack his items, but it formed a pack of sorts on his back that made him look like he had a hunched back. Still, it was another layer of insulation and he didn't intend for people to get close enough to judge.
Really, a man dressed in black with seemingly protruding horns, wielding a grim reaper's scythe with every intention to kill? Lindsey knew how to make an impression.
WHAT| Attempted murder, mayhem, Lindsey playing (death) god.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Arena 2 - Somewhere in the desert?
WARNINGS/NOTES| PG for deaths?
For the next arena, Lindsey was having serious conversations with his stylist. At least at night, he could appreciate that he was dressed as Batman. It was layers, it was black, it kept him somewhat warm and allowed him to hide in the night. Few would see him coming up to them.
Now, with a 9 foot scythe, he was a frightening figure to behold. He even put the cowl back on to hide his features further, to keep more of his pale face from reflecting white in the darkness and scare any tributes he came across. Of course, it kept the cold winds out of his face. His cape unfortunately had to be sacrificed in order to pack his items, but it formed a pack of sorts on his back that made him look like he had a hunched back. Still, it was another layer of insulation and he didn't intend for people to get close enough to judge.
Really, a man dressed in black with seemingly protruding horns, wielding a grim reaper's scythe with every intention to kill? Lindsey knew how to make an impression.
no subject
In a tattered pink pony mascot outfit with horribly bugged out eyes Harley was skipping across the wasteland cheerfully singing out loudly.
"Sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm wrong, but he doesn't care, he'll string along~ He loves me so! That funny honey of miiiine."
She spun and sighed clutching her hands to her chest like a school girl about to swoon before she stopped and cupped her hands together "DONNIE! WHERE'D YA GO!?"
Apparently she'd lost track of her ally in the darkness.
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Although it was a major question how could anyone lose her with her singing and skipping. Even with only the moon and stars for light, she was quite a sight.
Lindsey, with his scythe temporarily hitched over his shoulder, approached like a shadow in the dark. It was unlikely one would see him until he spoke up, unless the caught the gleam of moonlight on his scythe's blade.
"You look a little lost, missy."
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"Have you lost weight?"
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"Haven't had good eating in this desert... It's a miracle I'm not a skeleton." He looked the girl over with a judging look behind his cowl. "Your stylists must really hate you."
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"It's not as flattering as my old outfit but it has it's benefits." She declared proudly.
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"If your old outfit can compare... do I want to know?"
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"Harley Quinn. So I'd dress up like a Harlequin and have a little fun wherever applicable." She explained. "pretty skin tight too so I had to keep my figure." She struck a "Sexy" pose and then laughed.
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"Harlequin? Like... Joker? Batman?" Lindsey did hear that there was a Bruce Wayne running around here, but this girl did make him blink twice. Just where did Panem get their people from?
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"But I'm doing my best even without my trademark outfit or toys."
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Though Lindsey did eye the crazy girl with renewed interest. His grip also tightened on the scythe. "I might not be the real Batman, but I don't think anyone would mind if I cleared the Arena of villains a bit."
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"W-wow really?" She gasped clutching her side. "THAT'S the line you're going with? I mean come ON! If you're gonna try and say something like that while dressed like BATS..." She lowered her voice making it as gravely as she could and pulled her best impression of the Batman glare.
"-Ya gotta do it in the right voice!" She growled before giggling playfully.
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Were all blonde tributes that crazy?
"You know," he drawled as he started turning his scythe around, "If I start clearing this place of villains..." His voice lowered, might as well humor the girl's dying wish, right? "I should start with you."
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"Hey...wait a minute..." she looked puzzled and then worried, tugging on her collar in an exaggerated gesture of anxiety.
"You're just kidding right?"
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Lindsey expected her to dodge, or do something, but that had been a warm up swing anyway. He grinned under the mask and pulled his scythe back for another swing.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
Short tag is short but yay!
"Leave the comedy to the professionals you two bit bat!"
Fiiiiiiight!
But having been in enough fights to know that staying still was a dumb idea, he gritted his teeth and quickly regained his footing hopefully before the other could attack. His advantage, his costume had to be less cumbersome than that huge mascot suit Harley wore.
"The clowning is all yours!" He swung again with the scythe, hoping to tear that large bobbing head off.
Fightfightfightfightfightfight
In retaliation she lunged forward hurtling like a canonball at his legs.
"Come on, stay down and make this easier on the viewers at home."
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Not that it was any use with no swinging room to maneuver.
"Sorry clown girl, this bat's not into ponies." So he kicked, as hard as he could. He had no hope of actually hurting her through that much insulation, but it would be good to dislodge her before she could pull something to stab him with.
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"Think about it like this you half rate ratman. I go against the real deal and come out smellin' like roses. What makes you think you've got anymore of a chance?"
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"How about you being trapped in a pony shaped ball of cotton?" He got back to his feet at about the same time as she did and he instantly swung the scythe, hoping to catch her off guard before she could stand up properly.
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"I'll have you know this costume has class and style!" She argued turning the stumble into a back hand spring and landing it with only a little wobble.
"It also has deep pockets!" And from the collar she produced her crossbow and three bolts. He'd need to move fast before she had time to load it, but the closer he got the harder it would be for her to miss.
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Seeing the sudden crossbow leveled his way, he didn't think but abruptly dropped, hoping that she pulled the trigger and missed him overhead instead of having time to readjust. While on the ground, he swept his scythe out in a swing like he was hoping to chop into her legs.
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"I'm starting to dislike you." She added.
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"And you just shot me!" Not that he blamed her, after all, he was chopping at her first. Which, as he, less gracefully than she did, got to his feet, he tried to swipe at her again. She would have gained her footing by then though, so he didn't hold any real hope of catching her. Now, it was more important to drive her back.
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No, they were probably still suppressing her genetic manipulation. Ivy's gogo juice wouldn't be helping her out here.
"How long you gonna keep at this?" She called doing her best to keep from panting and revealing her quickly waning energy as she notched another bolt in her crossbow.
"Because I can think about at least five other things I'd rather be doing right now."
This did not however stop her from shooting for his knee.
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Great, he hadn't even managed to cut her open despite her ridiculous mascot suit and he was already nicked. Just how did this happen?
"Alright, fine, we stop!" He used his scythe to push himself back up, but in case she looked like she was reloading again he was ready to dodge. "I was trying to earn some money but it looks like it won't be over you."
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Not that he was expecting it to be, of course, but he also wasn't expecting to find himself in a desert dressed like the Jolly Green Giant. It hadn't taken long for him to get sunburnt, and dehydration followed shortly after; in his haze, he was fairly sure he was approaching heatstroke, or at the very least sun poisoning. It was hard to remember the difference.
Nightfall hadn't been any better, what with the cold winds and still no hint of water. He seemed to be the only one here, too, which was both a relief and a struggle. At least no one would object when he inevitably died.
He spent a long time staring at the shape when it appears on the horizon, trying to decide if it was real or not. He stood, shakily, to try and see better, half hoping it was so they could get this farce over with.
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And having been in this never ending night for at least one night already, night vision should have adjusted by now. At least it did for Lindsey, which was why when he saw the speck in the distance, he started moving towards it too.
Upon approaching, Lindsey discovered it was a man. A half dead guy with way more peeling skin than clothes and looked like he had seen much better days.
"Stylists could've chosen a better costume for you."
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He tried again, rasping out, "...complain... when I get back..."
He couldn't help but look at the scythe, catching the light off the blade in the dark; it definitely looked deadly enough.
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"I can speed that trip up considerably faster," Lindsey said, still conversational as he looked onto the dying man. He was no hurry for this one, the man wasn't going anywhere and he looked harmless enough.
Sadly, the guy didn't have any supplies to steal off him either, not even warm clothes.
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He nodded again, his decision made up, his mouth too dry for speaking. There was still that fear in the back of his mind, like as soon as the blade swung the other guy would rip through the barrier and make this… worse, was the only word for it, prolonging the fight and killing someone else who, as far as he knew, just wanted to help. He knew that couldn’t be, that it would have happened hours ago if it were to happen at all, but the fear was enough to make him hesitate, glance down at his feet and reach his hands together to play with them before stopping as soon as they grabbed each other from the pain. He looked up, tried to lather up as much moisture as possible. “Quick.”
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At least this guy didn't seem like he was the type to hold a grudge.
With a great heave, the scythe was lifted overhead, balanced in midair like the executioner's blade ready to fall. The grim reaper's weapon indeed, and its wicked curved edge caught the light just long enough to gleam as it was held up.
"Alright... Here's to hope there's no third arena."
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His mouth quirked, part amusement and part hope, as he squeezed his eyes tighter and bowed his head forward.
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At least it was a quick kill, almost a mercy killing, and in light of Lindsey's last conversation with a potential sponsor, he almost regretted it. But the guy seemed like a nice guy down on his luck, he figured torturing that sort wouldn't gain him much interest.
If he had to find someone to torture to death, he needed someone more spectacular.