like... die { robin vs sheepish | day 2 }

robin keeni, district 6

The cabins served as a singing siren to Robin's weary body. He hadn't slept much the night before, tense from the near-death interaction with the girl from Three. A promise of shelter and comfort momentarily overwhelmed his gut instinct to run the other way. That was the danger of alluring arenas. They drew you in with their charm and serenity, and the instant you'd found a moment's peace, a fifty-foot maggot would spurt out of the ground and devour you whole. No one would be able to hear the cannon over your screams. Boom, done, good game. But even then, he'd faced the instant retribution of playing with the arena just the day before, and still, now he found himself drawn to the wooden shacks.

Six cabins line an empty field with open doors - the Gamemakers had awoken them with a call of, "Good morning Campers," so the theming was clear - summer camp. Of all the televised stereotypes they could have gone for, Robin had somehow found himself at a scouts summer camp. The irony was not lost on him. A Robin at camp. Apt. It almost made him wonder if it wasn't the tesserae at all that had gotten his name pulled the week prior, but a cruel joke from the Capitol to keep things on theme.

The tree line ended around the cabins leaving an exposed lot. Clear vision from all sides. But from a distance, Robin could view the beds from within the cabins, a pillow and blanket padding each. An open invitation for a nap, or for someone to sneak up on you and murder you. But the temptation was enticing. After a long night of digging, Robin's weary frame trudged towards the cabins. If anything, he could take a couple of hours, sit somewhere comfy instead of the hard forest floor. No one else seemed to have reached out this far yet?

In his moments of posturing, the world turned black. He hadn't fainted, no he was standing - something had jumped towards his face and attacked. As it fell, its claws scraped down his thigh, trying to grab hold, he felt the blood emerge from his shin. Fuck. Shaking his leg as if kicking a rat, Robin reached hastily towards his ring of knives. Of course, they'd sent a sheepish after him, how poetic after spending his afternoon begging for his life from Mauve. Typical.



[Robin attacks Sheepish]

Sf14Zg1dEGthrowing knife

[9180 -- Miss (knife lost) -- 0.0 damage]

ACCURACY DAY 2

throwing knife

[9067 -- Knife in Cheek -- 7.0 damage]

robin keeni, district 6

The knife swung recklessly through the air and lodged itself into the creature's cheek. Robin was shocked at his accuracy as the knife stuck hanging out of the attacking beast. He'd never really tried throwing knives before, maybe it was something he'd been intuitively good with his entire life? Projectiles? It had felt nearly natural. Just a simple flick of the wrist, and distance. As a thief, he had always been handy and nimble. He had to admit that the thought of fighting an enemy from a distance put him more at ease.

The sheepish bleated and geared towards him without warning, bearing its fangs and latching onto his stomach. Robin swatted at the feral fiend with an open palm in a desperate attempt to dislodge it. The pain came secondary. As the gnashing teeth uprooted themselves from his side, the oxygen rushing to his wound seemed to activate a roaring pain. Robin had never felt anything like this in his life. Using his left hand to cover to wound, he backed up, running away from the gaudy experiment. Robin knew his best chance was to fight ten feet away. Keep its attacking windows short and minimal. But moving was no longer an easy feat.

He grasped his blood-soaked hand around another grip and loosened it from its ring. Kill or be killed.



[robin attacks cheerleader w/ throwing knife]

Gno77VV6iRthrowing knife

[9117 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage]

robin keeni, district 6

A big ol' miss.

Of course, when push came to shove, Robin wasn't able to deliver. The high training score, the sponsorships, the cultivating of his image, all of it meant nothing if Robin wasn't able to defend himself in a fight. He saw the knife drop off in the distance, far away from the Sheepish, almost as if it had never even approached the beast in the first place - what a terrible first real fight. Imagine if Mauve had decided to throw hands yesterday. Robin would have been a day one death in that case. And what of it? Now it would all just be happening a day later.

It was all a little sad. The beast barely stood above his knee cap, yet its fangs hurt like daggers. Robin could feel his head growing woozier with each passing second, his ability to perceive delaying itself. He would tell his arm to move, then it would. The synchronistic human experience no longer applied as his stomach leaked out all around them. Maybe throwing knives weren't the best fighting option for a man bleeding out.

As the Sheepish charged towards him once again, Robin lazily dodged while rummaging through his sack with his free hand. The machete he'd picked up at the challenge course yesterday, surely that would be better.



[robin attacks cheerleader w/ machete (sword)]

|ia2ykY|8nsword

[Stabbed in Back -- 9.0 damage]sword

robin keeni, district 6

The machete slid effortlessly across the back of the muttation. The cry of the beast confirming how deep the gash Robin had managed to cut truly was. Quid pro quo, he thought. Robin still clutched at his stomach with his stained left hand, assumingely holding his inside from gaping out on to the grassy terrain surrounding him. Whether the cut was that deep or not was difficult to ascertain in the heat of battle, and Robin notedly had a flair for the dramatic at times, but he was certain of the heated sap the drenched between his fingertips with every step.

With every passing swing he learned something new, became adaptable. The beast charged in straight lines only making its movements easy to predict. Enough distance and a moment of discretion allowed him to pass by the charging Sheepish again, the horn gently grazing his back as it charged to attack. It was all a pattern. Robin had been keen on games his whole life - battle had its kinship in gaming. Recollect, adapt, move on.

Robin turned to face the beast again, hoping to take it out with one final slash.



[robin attacks cheerleader w/ machete (sword)]

z1lmxmMPZbsword

[Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damage]
sword