thearena | [open] i can't get the balance right

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[open] i can't get the balance right

Who| Thane Krios and OPEN + special guests Lindsey McDonald & Dualscar
What| Encounters in a desert leading to death. Open to anyone who wants to run into him before he runs into Lindsey and Dualscar and dies.
Where| Various sections of the desert arena. Thane's wandering!
When| throughout the second week.
Warnings/Notes| injury, death, violence.

The night was colder than he had thought it would be. Strange, somewhat, that the friendly warmth of it could change so quickly to something dangerous to him. He should have known it would not last.

There was little shelter, and searching for it would lead to encounters with others he did not want. Still he tried, found places to settle for a brief rest and then moved on. The screens were tantalizing, but he ignored them as much as he could. Shepard's face had not been blazoned across the sky. She was alive, and while he was stuck here he could do nothing for her. Could not protect her, could not give her aid or information or anything.

If he was in the Capitol - the idea had crossed his mind a few times. It would be more beneficial to her if he died, here, was able to talk to others on her behalf. Nothing had come of it yet, and he knew how well she would take the idea, but still. It was hard to keep entirely out of his mind. For now he kept moving. He had rationed the water Timaeus had sent him, and he did not need much. He had hunted, though the absence of a weapon had made it somewhat risky. He was not well provisioned, but he had enough to keep him alive perhaps a day or two more before he needed to find some way to obtain more. He would have to make a choice of some kind then.

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He had been trying to avoid people, mostly. They were dangers, more and more so these days. Especially those who didn't care if they were seen - those who were hiding were more likely to be all right to run into.

Those who weren't hiding were dangerous, and they knew it.

But the set up of the dunes made it hard sometimes, meant that he could see no sign of any for some distance surrounding him and then crest a hill and find someone almost directly in front of him. He paused, took a step back as his gaze swept this newcomer and his weapon.

"I mean you no harm." It would be good to go ahead and get that out of the way, he thought. At least make it clear that he did not hold ill intentions.

Hiding was a subjective assessment given that there were so little hiding places to begin with, but Lindsey suppose he was. Dressed in black and in the blackness of night, he was becoming one with the shadows. A very Batman-like thing to do, though he could roll his eyes at how cliche it was.

But having someone sneak up on a shadow, now that was interesting.

Lindsey turned and in the dimness of the night, Lindsey couldn't make out much of the other guy. Just that he looked nothing like a human.

"Oh, fellow traveler lost in the desert?" He swung his scythe around, with ease, from where it was propped across his shoulder to standing before him. It wasn't quite the position of welcome, but at least he wasn't attacking either. Yet.

The Batman reference would be lost on Thane, though he would appreciate the meaning behind it. Certainly he was displeased at the vagaries of the arena that had led to this encounter, for he had not intended it and he had no weapon of his own.

He preferred preparation, if something was going to happen. But he had no choice here.

So he set his shoulders, stood straight and still and watched. "I believe it would be best for us to simply go our own ways." The swing of the scythe does not bode well for that, but he would make the effort anyways.

"Really?" Lindsey asked as if he was considering the suggestion. The moment lasted but a second and he was grinning, his teeth shining white underneath his dark cowl. With how the mask covered most of his features, it was hard to see who was the man swinging the weapon at all.

"Nah, I think I'll pass on that suggestion."

With that being all the warning Thane got, Lindsey suddenly swung his scythe in a large arc, aiming to take off an arm. The thing about scythes though was it had a large swing, good coverage in melee, but also easy to see coming. It was possible to dodge, but then, Lindsey wasn't trying to go straight for the kill anyway.

Well, that had gone about as well as he had thought it would. The grin was enough of a warning and Thane flung himself backwards, managed to miss most of the swing even though he could feel the first faint warm trickle of blood down his arm. Where had he even acquired such a weapon? The sheer size and reach of it negated a great deal of potential strategy, made it difficult for Thane to think of a way to get around it and to the other person.

He didn't have to. He could attempt to leave, but to turn his back right now risked being caught as he went, and that was not an idea he relished. "There is no need for this." His voice was harsher now, almost angry, and he raised his hands. It might look defensive, but should Lindsey swing again he fully intended to try to duck under and attempt to grab the handle, see if he couldn't neutralize some of Lindsey's good position.

After his miss, well, missed what he set out to do, Lindsey pulled back to get ready for another blow. He also took the time to assess the other creature, who he still didn't know the name of or figured out what manner of demon he was. Not that it mattered, Lindsey had time enough to sort through the pieces later.

"Oh, I think there is. It's called being in the Game." He struck again, but this time instead of horizontally, it was a vertical slash aimed at the other's uninjured shoulder, not a good attack to duck. Lindsey was dragging this out, taking his time, and trying to remove Thane's limbs one at a time.

Thane stayed crouched and ready, not moving quite yet. Just a little bit of patience. He needed to get inside of the range and then he had the other man, could break his neck with ease.

Could. Should was another matter, and one that hesitated him long enough to catch the blade on his skin again even as he moved away as quickly as he could, tried to shift the movement into a kick aimed at the man's stomach. "We are not animals." He could not keep the disgust from his voice.

The kick caught Lindsey off guard and he tumbled back, falling away with a 'oof' as the strength of it nearly sent him off his feet. He managed to use the staff of the scythe to balance himself although that lost him any advantage he had with the other guy.

"You don't look too human to me," he pointed out when he managed to get his his composure back, enough to point the scythe forward, but not attacking yet.

He needs to get out, but the weapon has a long reach and he will need a moment that will give him a good enough headstart to keep him out of its range. He doesn't have that quite yet, so he just takes a few steps backwards, as quietly as he can.

"I am a drell. An alien, to your species." The odds seem high that this man comes from a time when space travel has not yet been achieved.

"Alien, demon, they're really one and the same in the long run." Lindsey shrugged and he took a step to follow the 'drell' forward as the green skinned creature looked to retreat.

"Or other dimensional beings too, though usually they're touchy at being called aliens." Lindsey took another step forward and suddenly leaped forward, the bounding step hopefully putting him into range as he swung his great scythe. It was a move that would take time to recover from though, so if the other moved fast, he might get that head start he wanted.

"No." It was a simple answer, but it was all he had time and effort for. Trying to hold a conversation of any kind with this person seemed like something that was rapidly becoming past unlikely and into impossible. (Was. Already had, some time ago.)

He felt the blade slice into his chest as he threw himself away from it, but he would take that recovery time as the moment he needed. Lingering here was only going to lead to his death, and he was not yet certain that would be a good move. So he ran, moved as quickly as he could into the darkness, looking to let the dunes and shadows cover him.

Reluctantly, Lindsey watched the alien run off into the distance. The man got too much of a head start and put enough distance between them that giving chase would be an useless effort at this point. He had overreached with the swing, took too long to recover, and by the time he did the man hightailed it out of there.

Sighing, he lowered his scythe and let the guy go. "Next time then," he said into the air with a sardonic grin and turned to go the other way.

He had bound his wounds as well as he could, using the shirt of this outfit, but that meant that he was more and more exposed to the cold. His body retained heat somewhat well, but between blood loss and the lack of insulation he was starting to shiver.

There were two options immediately available to him. Try to get help from a sponsor, of some kind. Or quietly bleed out until what remained in him couldn't carry oxygen anymore and he choked to death with air all around him.

There was a third option. He was tired and sore and he would not let it come to his mind just yet, not truly. But the rock that he had gone to for shelter as he checked his bandages was clearly visible for some distance, a beacon to anyone. Perhaps he had made his decision, without ever fully considering it. Certainly if he was thinking more clearly he would never have gone somewhere so obvious.

Dualscar isn’t exactly thriving in the heat of the desert. He’s primarily a fish-like creature and he isn’t at all accustomed to such harsh temperatures and an overall lack of water. It’s doing his already terrible temper no favours to be pushing himself to keep moving and keep aware the majority of the time. He’s exhausted, frazzled, incredibly volatile and on the look out for potential threats. He’d caught sight of thane from the corner of his eye, and while he certainly doesn’t look to be a threat he could well prove to be easy pickings. Dualscar doesn’t want to buy into the games he’s being forced to play, but being explicitly ordered to kill so as to survive is a concept he has a hard time rebelling against. With any luck, the useless creature will be carrying something of use to him. Despite a recent trip to the cornucopia, Dualscar is still more than able to loot the dead for his own wellbeing.

He hadn’t seen him move from that rock for some time, so in turn Dualscar will make his own move. For all his exhaustion and weariness, he’s still a skilled enough hunter to approach in absolute silence. One less to worry about, he tells himself, holding his sword outstretched as he steps further and further into Thane’s newly claimed territory. There’s no point in making this a silent kill, he’d rather bother the pitiful being enough to provide some entertainment.

"Aren’t you a sorry sight?" His voice is notably raspy, but that’s to be expected of a fish in the desert. He lets out a low, throaty chuckle. The sort of mirthless sound a man very at ease with murder would make with a sword outstretched toward another. "Were you too afraid to do away with yourself? A pity. Though I must thank you for it, your death will do me a world of good." He really doesn’t sound all that grateful, he sounds more as if he’s mocking Thane for nothing but the sake of doing so

That he would be found by someone eventually had seemed inevitable, and the stiffness to his body as he looked up, otherwise terribly still, suggested that Thane found this of no surprise. A sword, and Thane was wounded and bloodied and utterly unarmed.

"Am I?" He glanced down at himself in mild assessment, slowly pulled himself into a standing position. That there was little chance of any victory against this creature seemed clear. He could try to run, see if that obtained him anything. But he found the idea distasteful, and the thought of dying of heat and thirst in the desert unappealing.

His face remained inscrutable and steady, his back straight and tall as he stood tensed. "I do not see what good my death will do you, but I suppose you are certain of such an outcome."

The lack of surprise is disheartening, but it's obviously not going to change the outcome. Dualscar isn't generally the sort to draw things out, but he's had so little to preoccupy his mind beyond thirst and survival instincts that he's clinging to the dramatics of the situation a little desperately.

He rolls his eyes at the question he silently deems stupid. The creature must know how hopeless he looks now! Unless he's liable to pull some sort of particularly impressive stunt, Dualscar is clearly the only one who'll be walking away from this.

"Positive." He gives him a flat, unimpressed look. He's kind of clearly annoyed that Thane isn't weeping for his life here. "You'll be one less wretch to worry about." He says, ever so informatively. "I'm sure you've got somethin' of value on you." He waves his sword, giving him a critical look. "There's plenty you'd be good for, more so than you'd ever be whilst living. Your wounds make that much abundantly clear."

Perhaps he looks hopeless. Perhaps he is hopeless. It does not particularly matter one way or another. This situation will not be benefited by him being unable to accept a fate that seems very likely.

And in some respects welcomed, at the moment.

"I'm afraid I have nothing of use on me. I have finished my water and food for the moment." His face remains serene and calm, even as he watches everything. A survival and battle instinct as strong as his is not easy to keep down, but he makes no motion regardless.

Dualscar rolls his eyes as Thane speaks, more than a little belligerent about the fact that he wasted his time approaching and the creature couldn't even spare some water on his death bed.

It's not like him to look at the bright side of an issue, but he's stubborn and he doesn't want to back down from this now. Killing Thane won't stop him sleeping at night, he's just bitter that he's doing work for free.

"Then you'll die a useless failure." He keeps his voice calm, trying not to show that this isn't working out the way he wanted it to. "You'll be one less troublesome dirtlicker and I'll sleep better at night." He reaches out the hook sword to poke at Thane's middle. "Are you goin' to fight or shall we end this easily."

He will die on his own terms.

Useless failure is someone else's terminology, and he just smiles almost imperceptibly and spreads his arms out to his sides a little bit.

"If it will help you sleep better at night, why should I fight it?" It's casual. He has accepted this, and that brings a certain measure of peace with it.

"Here I'd hoped you might have some fight left in you." He can't help hissing a little, he's clearly letting a bit more of that bitterness slip but he just can't seem to care anymore.

"If you're perfectly content to die under such pathetic circumstances, I won't hesitate to comply."

With that, he wastes no time raising the sword upward and slashing the hook across Thane's jugular with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

"Shepard will kill you." It's a very quiet observation, something almost triumphant in the look in his eyes, and then he takes the blow in silence, not flinching.

His hand comes up to his throat, feeling the warmth of the blood beneath it, and then he nods slowly and crumples backwards against the rock he had been sitting against before, eyes still open but the life rapidly slipping from them and then gone.

The declaration earns him a perplexed look as he steps back from the body. He flicks the blood off his sword onto the sand and crinkles his nose whilst waiting for Thane to die.

"They'll die trying, I think you mean." He corrects him, as if the lifeless corpse has much to say to that. Once it's obvious Thane is no longer a threat, Dualscar lives up to his promise of inspecting him for anything useful to steal before turning on his corpse and making his way away.

The night was dark, far harder to see in than the glare of the sunlight, and it was hard to distinguish sometimes between the dark and something slightly darker, a shape in it. Hard now to look at his skin and distinguish between the dark red of blood and the dark green of his skin. That would make this difficult, but he would have to bind his wounds if he had any chance of survival. For a long while now he had simply been moving, seeking to get away, but now he stopped in the shade of a dune, took his hand off of the worst and glanced at it.

If he removed his shirt he would be able to bind them, at least keep from losing as much blood as he would otherwise. He slipped the shirt off, tore one sleeve off and glanced at his arm. For a glancing blow it had gone deeper than he would like, but it was not a death wound.

Not yet at least.

There was one light in the darkness.

Maximus had fashioned himself a torch, using dried old scrubrush, rope, and animal fat. He'd crafted it when he'd realized the night would not come to an end, that the only light he would have would be what he made himself.

It shone like a beacon, but made him a target and he knew it - holding the torch out before him in one hand, knife in the other, his crossbow strapped to his back. He trekked across the dessert sand, tired and weary, looking for a place to rest his head.

He watched the light come closer with something weary in his heart. If he moved now, he could stay ahead of it. But he did not feel a desire to, so he simply remained as he was and watched it approach.

His vision in the dark was excellent, though, and it was while Maximus was still some distance away that he recognized him. Perhaps it was relief. He thought it was relief he was feeling.

Still he waited until Maximus was fairly close, and then he waved the remains of his white shirt in the air. "Maximus." It was fairly quiet, but sound carried in the desert. It needed to be quiet enough to be heard only as far as needed.

It was the flash of white he saw first, catching in the light of his torch, before Thane's voice echoed over the sand. He turned to it, but he couldn't see who waved to him, couldn't make out the figure in the dark past the reach of his light. So he paused, adjusted himself, and slowly walked over.

He lowered the torch once he realised who it was.

"Thane--" And then he saw the blood. He picked up the pace, jogging over and ducking down next to him, pushing the torch into the sand. "You're injured."

The light of the torch was welcome on one hand, but on the other it made them a target. That was the risk he took, though, and he gritted his teeth and shifted position so that he looked less like he was supporting his weight on the rock when Maximus came up to him.

"It is not a death wound." Not yet, at least. "You look to have been having good luck."

"Still alive," He agreed. He knew the risk the torch carried, but part of him wanted the excuse to fight and be completely justified to do so.

"Do you have bandages?" He asked, trying to assess the damage, but he hardly knew what a creature like Thane could take. They bled. That much was apparent.

"That is fairly significant." Here, at least. He held up the strips of bandage he had torn from the remains of his shirt, gestured at himself.

"I have these. I am not sure they will cover the damage." The gash on his arm was not that difficult. The one on his chest - it went too deep and too far. "I believe I will not be offering you much competition this arena."

Maximus took them instantly. Arm first - a bandaged wound was better than nothing. Then he could focus on the chest.

"Somehow I think even dying you could manage a kill or two," He murmured lowly.

He dug his canteen out from his side, pouring a very little bit of the precious fluid into the gash, cleaning it out with sand, before dabbing it dry and wrapping it up tightly.

"Are you armed?"

The help was more than welcomed - he could fix himself up well enough, but someone else doing it who knew what they were about was going to keep him from as much blood loss.

"It's possible." He said it quietly, almost absent mindedly. If he really tried - but he had no desire to.

The use of the water startled him though, and he glanced at Maximus, shook his head. "Save that for someone with more chances of survival. I am unarmed."

"Much good the bandage would do you, if I were to lock the grit in with it," Maximus murmured, ignoring Thane's protests. He tied a tight knot, and then looked to the would on Thane's chest. It was hard to tell what Thane could take - his flesh so very different - on on any other man the wound would be very open to festering, and there was not enough bandage to go round. He pressed the bottle into Thane's hands as he went to work quickly tearing off the cleanest piece of his robes he could find.

"Just a mouthful, I don't have too much more to spare."

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[open] i can't get the balance right

LINDSEY

Sorry this took so long!

no worries!

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DUALSCAR

Sorry for the massive delay, this week has been death.

no worries! i'm traveling and will be slow myself

Nobody is slower than I, friend.

me. i think it's me i'm slower.

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MAXIMUS

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