PIIIIIIIPE WREEEEEENCH FIIIIIIIIIGHT

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and others
What| Murderworld. So much Murderworld.
Where| All over the arena - locations are in toplevels
When| Murderworld! Late day 1, all of day 2, and early day 3
Warnings/Notes| Violence for days. Most of these have been planned using the almighty spreadsheet - if you want to plan something, feel free to poke me on plurk!

Get pulled from a perfectly benign covert mission to be thrown into a bad Hunger Games ripoff run by someone with zero sense of style or humor. Survive, probably on his own, until help comes or he manages to escape. Sure. Okay.

What could possibly go wrong?

Comments

[unrecovered]

Just because she's not asking doesn't mean it's not worth an explanation. "There's a beach zone here. A shark with mechanical legs was trying to kill me, so Nita and I killed it and ate it. He shrugs, completely blasé about the whole thing. There's a Soviet Russia joke in there somewhere, but he's not invested enough to make it.

He quirks an eyebrow at the sugar comment. "You just want to see me kill someone with a lollipop, don't you." Odds are he probably can, given the right circumstances. "Though if I wanted it sharp, I'd just break it. It's faster."

That's about the right reaction to one's first MRE, and Wash hides a grin. Oh, yeah. He remembers that. "You get used to those, especially when you're having them twice a day for weeks on end." He pauses for a moment, considering what he just said. Oh. "Hopefully it doesn't come to that here." He's not planning on dying here, but he doesn't exactly want to spend the rest of his life here either.

The yawning does not go unnoticed. Wash busies himself with his pack, rearranging items and repacking them to keep his hands busy, and takes the opportunity to look Pidge over. It's hard to tell if she's injured slumped against the wall like she is, but she was moving just fine earlier, and that's about all he has to go on. Right now, it just looks like she's exhausted. "You should get some rest," he says, setting his pack aside for now. "I'll keep watch."

[isthisapidge]

"Of course you did." It's more...accepting than sarcastic. That's just the way things are around here. Sharks with robo legs. Why not.

"If you break it it'll just shatter into shards, you'll lose the distance of the stick." Later, she'll reflect on just how weird it is that she's thinking of this seriously. "You'd practically have to be in someone's lap to get any use out of it."

She wolfs the rest of it as fast as she can, deciding more time spent eating means more time spent tasting. It's awful and the calorie bomb makes her feel like a canonball is sitting in her stomach. Good time to at least attempt to sleep.

Not that she feels up for arguing with him in the first place. "OK," she says, pulling out the sleeping bag Arcade saw fit to provide her and unrolling it. "And here I thought this wouldn't come in handy."

[unrecovered]

"Pidge, if I don't have a gun on hand I fight with a knife," Wash says flatly. "'Practically in someone's lap' is about the range for that too. I'm not worried." Then again, he wouldn't be fighting with a lollipop anyway if his knife were handy, so it's a bit of a moot point.

He settles in and gets comfortable against the wall, watching Pidge destroy the MRE, and he can't help but smile just a bit. Yeah, that's definitely how most first-timers tackle them. At least she's not trying to fight him on getting rest.

"It's better than what I got." Wash shrugs. "Some smartass sent me a My first murderworld scrapbook this morning." It could always be worse, but that's still pretty damn bad.

[isthisapidge]

"Well, if you stabbed someone with a lollypop you'd be playing right into Arcade's ratings," she says, drifting off even as she zips herself into the bag.

She rolls on her back -this floor is really hard even with a sleeping bag- and folds her arms under her head.

"'First.'" She practically spits the word as she closes her eyes. "Not likely."

[unrecovered]

"Pidge, the T-1000 that was chasing us earlier is the fourth tribute I've fought in two days." He says it casually, like the fact that he's come up against four incredibly strong people out for his blood is just business as usual. (To an extent, it is, and that should worry him far more than it does.) "I'm already playing into his ratings."

He raises an eyebrow, and- oh, right. Pronoun game. "I think they mean my first. It's blank, like I should be putting stuff in it." As though that will ever happen. "If I hadn't gotten fire starters, I would've used it as kindling already."

[isthisapidge]

"Just don't make it too interesting for him," she says without opening her eyes. The fact that he's still standing right now makes it obvious that he's strong enough to take care of anything Arcade throws at him.

"Mmmm..." she says, and then pops an eye open. "Don't tell me that means you're still carrying it around?"

[unrecovered]

"Too late." It's accompanied by another shrug. Arcade is obviously out for violence, and Wash has given him that in spades, with contingency plans for any encores that may pop up. It's cynical and paranoid, yes; it's also how he's survived, both in the arena and in war.

"Yep. I'm waiting for an opportunity to use it in a big Screw You kind of way. If that doesn't work out...like I said, kindling." He looks down at her. "Now get some sleep."