CAPTAIN HARPOON: ORIGINS// {▲von Day 2}

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing

It had been a very long night of staying awake due to intense pain in her ha- her stump. Not to mention the fact that it felt like every hour or so, she had to move because the sands were piling up. Every time she moved, Cain the snake would shake awake and follow her like a puppy. Maybe it thought that it would be getting more body parts or something. She had to laugh at that, even if it came out tired, and sore from a night spent in the gritty sand. She had to laugh at that, because she wasn't sure if there was even anything left to laugh about. Not that she had ever really done a lot of laughing, she'd always left that to her siblings. What she wouldn't give though to hear Chyba's giggle. Any of their voices.

She remembered lying there in the dark last night, wavering in and out of consciousness, trying to stay alert, but the pain wanting to make her escape. The sand had stopped for a moment, and it was so nice, for the rain of sand to stop. But then the whole sky had lit up, faces moving across the screen as the kills of the day were announced. A cannon's loud scream announced all of the faces. Some were smiling, others were grim. There were so many. So many people dead, she thought the list would never end, as Death stood beside her shivering form and smiled. And then, they had their turn on the large screen. They both smiled down at her, one confident, the other looking uncertain. She had screeched and his her head like a small child when their faces had come up, unable to deal with the physical and mental pain of it all.

Dead, they were both dead. Because of her. She had killed them both, taken her voulge like a scythe and cut out their life force, as easily if they were simply crops standing tall in a field, she had culled them. She had tried to become something bigger than she was in that moment. Avon had let herself sink into something less, even as she had tried to rise, because that's not what she was at heart, she hoped. Sure, she loves a good fight, but the girl is no killer. The most blood she had ever drawn before this had been when she had broken someones nose, and it had gushed all over the place like a waterfall she had seen in a children's book about llamas. But that had been a nose, these had been people, and lights, dying, going out like a candle's flame, simply because she had blown them out.

She did not think herself a goddess. But she acted in that bloodbath as if she did. She remembered laughing and smiling as she had weaved, ducked and sliced with the voulge. She hadn't just enjoyed it, she had loved killing and maiming. She had loved causing harm. She was no better than a mutt. The worst part of it, is she knew they had seen her like that, her family. They had seen everything. Did they still love her? Would they understand that everything she had done, she had done for them? To survive for them? That she was only still bothering to move after the horror of what she had already done because she was slowly getting back to them? She was afraid that they all turned off the family's small television now and looked down in shame if anyone mentioned her name in the street. A family of non-fighters harboring a damned career.

She was shamed to say that in the night she had whimpered from the pain. She would move to change her spot to somewhere else, to not get buried. Starting by pushing out her left hand to move herself upwards, and she would fall, no hand there. It was weird, because it felt as if it were still there. She went to pick up her left over wood, and find herself hitting the end of her arm against the splintery stuff. When she had woken up in the morning from an hour's sleep, the snake had been wrapped around her left arm, head resting on the slightly warm sand where her hand would have been. She had lain there entranced for some reason. She could pretend that the hand was still there under the thing's large head. Or maybe the snake was like an extension of her arm. He had her hand inside it's belly, she made up a part of it now.

Slinging her back pack on, she had to find a way to transport everything with two hands. It required a lot of management, and sticking weapons in random places. Did she really need three? She mostly just used Lamp anyway, but it would be better to keep them just in case she supposed. The body parts, she wasn't so sure about. She was hungry, but not hungry enough to consider eating the flesh of her fallen enemies. Hopefully she could find some edible plants at some point. But before that, she needed drinkable water, her mouth was all dry and gross tasting after a night spent in the sands. She needed a drink, and preferably rather fast. She decided to move on to the next tower, and evidently Cain was coming as well.

Avon was unsure of how she felt about it, the snake. On one hand, it had caused her the loss of her hand, on the other, it was a snake. It was doing what snakes do. Who was she to get mad at a snake when she was a human being, and she was doing what people do. She found it ridiculously hard to hate the thing. In fact, it was almost nice to have someone to be with, a companion. After only a day in the arena, she was feeling isolated and lonely. Probably because she wasn't used to it, being so alone. She knew that she was naturally quiet, but that was because she had her siblings always yammering away in her ear. She didn't know that she didn't talk if they weren't there. And she wanted to hear a voice, anyone's. But in the nights spent apart from them, it was always there's she wanted to hear most.

She sighed as she struggled along, sometimes she would slip and throw out her hand, only to fall over because it was still painful to lean on a stump like that. It was frustrating, moving slowly like that, just trying to get to the tower far in the distance. At one moment, she got so angry and upset, call it exhaustion from a bad sleep, but she called out to the snake slithering along beside her, "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE," making the snake still, seeming to be confused. Either that, or it was getting ready to bite her again, letting it's venom seep through her blood stream, killing her. And maybe that would be a relief from this. This annoyance, of no more hand to catch her. How could she catch herself without a hand. There was no one to do it here.

"I DIDN'T DESERVE THIS, NOT FROM YOU, CAIN. NOT FROM YOU." She kicked the sand in anger, and as she moved on in distress, the snake seemed bewildered and hurt. Good then. She was yelling at a snake. It seemed a little bit insane, but by Jove, Avon probably was a little insane. She was fine with it. Everyone need to let themselves go a little mad with it. The snake was trailing along uncertainly now, as if it was unsure of the fact that he wanted to stay with her. But she didn't want it to go, it was her only friend, ironically. The snake that had taken her hand from her, was her only friend. but that was okay, because they belonged together, the two of them. Both of them murderers. She had read about a man named Cain once, in one of her father's old books, titled 'Bible'. Cain had been the first murderer. It fit then, two murderers on the road together, making tracks.

Looking back impatiently, she gestured the snake forward again, with a soft, "come on then, bloody animal." When she turned around, a tower loomed up before her. She had made it to somewhere new. Whatever it was, it offered shade. As she reached the tower however, another parachuted item landed at her feet. Once again, she carefully folded the small piece of weird fabric, a real trial with only one hand, and then proceeded to open the package. Cain stuck his tongue out at it as if to try and taste it. He probably wanted to know if he could eat it. Whatever it was, it was probably important, not something for the snake to eat, and she didn't want it eating her again, so she reached into the pack and offered it Fledger's arm. The murderer seemed to be sated.

The package turned out to be a sizable roll of stuff that was sticky on one side and shiny enough to be water resistant on the other. Curiouser and curiouser. Still, she stowed it in her pack by tossing it over the harpoon. It landed like a hoop around the wooden shaft of the weapon. Blood adorned the wood like droplets of water. Shaking her head, she went into the tower, immediately taking care with where she walked. Whatever this place was, it smelled like death and decay. She didn't like it, and resolved to simply go in and out. The snake meanwhile was still as the shape of an arm, fingers outstretched worked it's way through it. She looked away in disgust and went about her business, taking her water jug out of her pack.

Filling it with the water, she was pleased that it seemed a lot cleaner than the other tower, Avon tried to figure out why anyone might send her sticky tapey stuff. She had no hand, three weapons, and sticky rope, along with various other items. why the sticky rope though? Capping off the water, she sighed as she realized that she wouldn't have enough wood to boil the water. The plants here seemed to damp here as well, she'd have to go back and get more wood if she wanted something to drink. She was going to leave right away, but the snake was still. It probably needed some time. She'd have time to rest then, and think about the sticky ropey stuff, and how she would cope with no hand.

Her mind clicked away. When she was younger, her father used to read them bedtime stories. There was one about a boy who never wanted to grow up, and he lived on an island with other boys like him, that he had collected. But he had an enemy. Pirates! More importantly, Captain Hook. He had lost his hand to a crocodile, a scaled reptile, and replaced his hand with a hook. Avon didn't have a hook, but she did have a harpoon. Springing into excited action, she pulled the harpoon out of it's place in her back pack, the sticky rope coming out with it. The shaft of the harpoon was wooden, but she didn't need all of it anymore. Holding the thing over her knee, she broke it near the top, so there was only a few inches of jagged wood left.

Deftly, she took the head, and pulled at the end of the sticky roped with her teeth, lifting it away from it's resting place against the rest of the rope. It made a ripping sound as she pulled, and it tasted bad in her mouth. Taking the harpoon, she took the sticky rope and wrapped it round and round her stump and the harpoon. She didn't stop until there was only a bit of sticky rope left on the roll. It felt secure, she thought as she tested it out with some awkwardness, like a baby deer trying out it's new legs. But it would be serviceable. It looked like she a hook for a hand now, the shiny metallic look of the sticky rope serving as a base. Smirking at the thought, she announced loudly, "Captain Harpoon." Smiling with a hint of childish excitement in her face, a welcome thing after hours spent with a grimace, she stabbed the harpoon through the air, giving as much force as a regular punch.

Still, Cain no longer moved. So she carefully scooped up the snake and placed his bulk in her bag. It added weight, but the little bugger was worth it. Besides, she couldn't just leave him behind, he was kind of growing on her, the silly old snake.

[ooc: Avon received duct tape, and water, then she fled. She also now has a harpoon for a hand, thought you ought to know ;D]