Difference between revisions of "Log:Blood on the Ice"

2 July, 2018

Olivia finally leaves the frosts for the arena.

Arcadia

A few days have passed since her last kill. That man still on her mind, likely the only thing keeping her fire going currently. That dim bit of law doesn't help anything, though. It provides little light in the darkness. Nothing to warm whatever meat she finds, leaving her to consume it with several now feroicous bites that bring sharper teeth as time passes. Time is even more difficult to parse as she travels through this hellish desert of ice and snow. The sun that rises is dim, lifeless and on its last legs. As she travels today (tonight?) she can't shake the sensation that something is watching her every move for God knows how long. No matter what nook, cranny, cave, or hole she hides in it's like a pair of eyes are somewhere on her.

Cold is not usually her friend. At least the worst of the chill seems to be held at bay. But this icy desert just keeps going on and on. When will it end? Olivia looks around as she marches on, making sure that no one is about to sneak up on her. Which isn't necessarily an easy task in a wasteland; people generally stand out. And despite not seeing anything, she can't help but feel she's being watched. No matter what tactic she takes, she can't quite shake it. And it's unnerving. It's creating more than a little bit of paranoia. "What next?" she mutters, scuffing her feet over some of the prints in an attempt to shield the trail she leaves behind.

"This," calls those many voices from her first day here. No one else is here. Not anyone alive, at least. There is the half buried corpse of some elven woman, stuck in frozen horror as she was buried from the chest down by an avalance some time ago. The ground swells and shakes beneath her feat. "You have adapted well. Better than most."

Olivia blinks a few times, looking around at the voice. Voices. It's not what she was expecting. The corpses don't really bother her anymore; there have been more of those than she can count, really. Her hands come out to either side of her, stance shifting to provide her with more balance as the ground moves under her. "Ready to send me home yet? Are you done with your games?"

"This is your home until it is your grave." With that the earth opens up, and swallows her whole before she has a chance to blink. All around her is darkness, but no longer in the cold. She finds her limbs unable to move despit their being nothing restraining her. Her mouth and eyes still function as they should, a cruel blessing. "You have become the queen of this frost. Others flee in fear, pay you reverence." With that she feels her chest opened up, her still beating heart thumping felt everywhere. "We must remove whatever this fleeting thing is," as every bit of warmth is sucked from her body.

Olivia yelps as the ground opens up beneath her feet, dropping down into darkness. She twists and turns, trying to escape whatever is there. Whatever is holding her. Her eyes shift around, seeking some sort of escape. Not that she's likely to find it. She screams in pain as she feels her chest cut open, and yet it doesn't kill her. Instead, what lingers of her fire is drained away. It didn't matter, it wasn't affecting what she was doing; what's the point in taking it? "Just let me GO!" she howls.

"No," she replies. Olivia's mouth is yanked open, violently so. Each of those pointed teeth is poked at. The scant few molars in the back are plucked out like fruit from a tree, and her mouth fills with her blood. The rest of her mouth is fileld with canines to finish that up. "You have excelled, but you can be better. You can do better." Next are her eyes. The place was already pitch black so the only thing to even warn of it and confirm it is the searing pain in her sockets.

Olivia coughs and splutters as her mouth fills with blood, her head turning slightly so she can spit it out. Her teeth are replaced, and what remains is more than a little bit uncomfortable. Pain aside, which is becoming a fast and familiar sensation, it feels like a bad filling. "I can do it without you," she half-slurs, her words not entirely clear with the new teeth. Her head jerks back a bit and she screams in pain again as she feels her eyes get ripped from her skull, blinded for the moment, even if she doesn't quite realize it in the dark.

She does get to see again. Even in the dark. She can make out the Keeper. Her Keeper. It's form never solidifies into anything wholly recognizable. One human to the next with the occasional shape more Wyrd than the last. She can even move her head and neck now, and in turn seen the still bloody display of her chest. Something is missing from that. She can see the blood. Her insides. It just doesn't look the right color. The Borrower drags its finger from her gut to chest again, sealing her shut with relative ease.

Olivia blinks her new eyes, vision adjusting to the darkness as she focuses her gaze on the Keeper. Still possibly the strangest thing she's encountered here. There is a vague look of horror at the splayed open shape of her chest, something that SHOULD make her dead. But the Keeper simply runs its finger along her torso, closing up the wide wound as though it were a zipper. "What did you do?"

"Made you better." he says as Olivia is free to move again. "I am many things, fool girl, but I am not a liar." she creeps closwer, standing several feet taller than her. He wasn't that ball last time. She grabs Olivia's head, turning her head left and then right. A nod, and then he departs into nothingness. "You will decide if you survive," she responds.

Olivia scowls up at the Borrower, clearly not thankful for the actions it has taken. "I was fine the way I was," she says flatly, taking a few slow and careful steps, not entirely certain what's happened to her. Or where she is. "I'm not dying here. I've survived this long. I don't intend to play your little game forever."

The ground shakes as the sound of laughter echoes all around her. When that dies down the walls open up into four tunnels. One in front, another behind, and two to either side of her. "You decide if you survive," he says. "Many before and many after have echoed your words. They are nothing more than sound without meaning. Prove your worth. Survive." From the one in front she can hear the faint echoes of metal hitting metal. Behind her, the sounds of something burning. To her left several distant screams. To her right, completely and total silence.

Olivia's eyes shift left and right as the tunnels open up around her, looking towards each of the four, turning slightly in place. "Seriously?" she mutters, shaking her head. She has options now. None of them good. "Don't you get tired of just killing everyone all the time?" Her fingers drum slightly against the side of her leg. Screaming isn't good. Metal is probably more violent than she could handle. Silence is likely a lie. Fire could hurt her, but she can at least hurt that back. It's familiar. So she turns slightly to head in that direction.

As she continues forward the way back closes off by by bit. She won't be able to go back, much less hid with the space that is no longer behind her. The smell is familiar as she closes the distance in that tunnel. The smell of cooked flesh and something else uncertain. Bright light welcomes her further down, and the earth behind her begins pushing her forward and out if she stands still.

Olivia continues forward. The smells are familiar, as are the sounds and other things here. Fire is familiar. It's uncomfortable now, though. Not the same warm, inner comfort that she's had in the past. She puffs out a small breath between her lips, continuing on as the tunnel closes behind her until there's nothing left. "Hello?" she calls, squinting slightly at the brightness of the light ahead.

Her breathing cools the air in the sweltering heat. The cause of it appears to be the location itself as the tunnel closes behind her. A ring of fire surround her and two other captives. One looks to more like Satan than anything else: horns, cloven hooves, leathery wings, and claws at the end of each finger. The other is more subdued. Almost tiny. A boy that stands maybe five feet high. Maybe. They're both looking around, confused as to why they're here. "Who will survive?" the voices rumble.

Olivia blows out a small breath in front of her, looking at the other two that have found themselves in the ring with her. Her eyes lift slightly, seeking the voice. But it isn't going to be plainly obvious. She just shakes her head a bit and looks over towards the other two, shrugging. "If we don't fight, it doesn't get a show," she tells them. "But it'll get angry, I suspect."

The other two look between each other. The demon nods, standing up straight. "I don't wanna kill anymore. I won't if you won't." The little boy hunches over, long hair swaying about to reveal his now pointed ears. "I just wanna go home," he whines. "I don't like this place. The people are mean! They're all mean! I just want my mommy!"

Olivia lifts her hands, shaking her head. "I would rather not," she agrees before looking over towards the small child. One eye squints slightly as she peers over in his direction, considering. "You wouldn't be here if you were vulnerable. You'd still be out there. I don't buy it."

The voice rattles from all around, "If there will be no violence, then further improvements must be made." To this the woman shudders, and wraps her arms around her middle. "Nononono," and that cascade of denial just spills over until she falls onto her knees. The boy looks up at Olivia and her judgments, backing away slowly. "I don't like this! I don't want to do this anymore!" As if on cue, "The winner may go home should they prove themselves to be the best."

Improvements don't result in death. They're just infinitely unpleasant. Not something she wants, but something she could adapt to. Olivia's eyes shift between the two of them, thinking. Listening. Watching their reactions to the words spoken. She breathes deeply, beginning to pace slowly along the edge of the ring. "None of us want to do this anymore," she mutters. "But I don't believe that we'll be sent home."

The woman rises to her face, tears in her eyes. "I still have a family to go back to. Two boys," she tells Olivia as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. "I don't want to kill you two, but I don't have a choice." It's clear that her mind is made up, and she enters into the air as she beats her wings. The boy, has decided to fall into the fetal position, rocking back and forth.

"You ALWAYS have a choice." Olivia doesn't expect the woman will back down, small frozen throwing knives appearing at her fingertips to be hurled at the 'demon' as she takes to the air. "I have family, too. We all have something. At least MY family will know me." It's a cruel jab, but an honest one.

The woman's mouth was opening up and light bubbled up from. Just as Olivia knicks one of the woman's wings a burst of flames flies out. As the woman goes careening down in a spiraling, fiery display. The result isn't as pretty for Oliva as her bit of her left side is equally dowsed in fire and flame.

Olivia gasps at the burning sensation that hits her, not entirely familiar or fun. She's used to being immune to flames, but that's been stolen from her. She glares over at the fallen woman that careens into the ground, striding over towards her and summoning up a wide shield of ice as she approaches. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to die here."

"Just! DIE!" the woman roars in protest. Her opponent is grounded. Wounded. There is still fight left in her, and she doesn't stop. That gout of fire continues being spat at Olivia without a moment's respite. The ice constantly melted as one natural force is pit against the other. "Die! Die! DIE!"

"No." The answer is simle and flat as Olivia conjures up one block of ice after the other to deflect the majority of the flames spat in her direction, holding one hand out in front of her while the other brings up further fans of icy needles to throw at the grounded woman. "Stop trying to kill me and I'll end this quickly. If you don't, I'll just have to wear you down."

The woman wants to live. She wants to leave. The closer Olivia gets the woman crawls away. It proved a decent enough strategy until the point originally stuck through her wing catches on the ground. It pins her there until the volley of needles slowly and surely does her work. It takes a few seconds until the fire stops, and the woman is a veritble pin cushion of melting needles. Now, just Olivia and the elfin boy remain.

Olivia sighs and shakes her head, turning slightly to look at the child. There's no reason that there should be a child here, pitted against two others, unless it wasn't really a child. Others can take other forms. She's seen it. Whatever, whoever, this is... it can't be a child. That's what she tells herself, anyway. She doesn't say anything as she steps towards the small person, keeping one icy shield in hand and conjuring up a single, long blade in her other hand. Even if this IS a lie, she'd rather not inflict unnecessary suffering.

The ring of fire burns bright. There isn't any hiding from what anyone's done here, nor what they're willing to do. Whatever or wherever their Keeper is, it's close enough that the body of the demonic woman disappears with just the faintest sensation of air moving around them. The little boy is still in the fetal position, rocking as he tries to find some place in his mind to hide away from the terrors of Arcadia.

Olivia circles around behind the boy, watching him, picking out the most vulnerable spots that she can spot. One quick, swift strike will end his fear and pain. That's it. Just one. She swallows drily, the illusion still causing some discomfort as she moves towards the child carefully. The blade is lifted, aimed carefully to provide a single, fast strike through the base of his skull to kill him as painlessly as possible.

The blade bites through nothing, and hits the earth below. The sobbing of the boy on the ground is drowned out by the bubbling laughter of children. A few seconds later, and it's clear that it's the sound of a single child laughing. All arround her several children begin to run around, all in the shape of that sandy-haired boy with the pointed ears. "You grownups are always so stupid, and now you're get to die for it." Beat. "And thank you for taking care of her."

"Except you forget something." Olivia wasn't too surprised that her blade hit the ground. At least, not in any way that lasts as she straightens up to turn and look around. "I was the one that didn't believe anything you did. I was the one who didn't buy the act. She may have. I didn't." Her head turns slightly, making a few mental notes. The fans of needles that were directed at the demon woman are again brought up to her fingertips, but this time, Olivia spins in place to send them in a whirlwind around her, spreading out in all directions to narrow down the number of targets.

Each of those illusions is unaffected by the hail of ice and cold. The illusions disappear, but not a one of them was hit. He was behind her, and the sound of gurgling signals exactly where she hit. He transitions back into light as his body becomes visible. Spines, pins, and needles just out of his head, neck, and chest as he lurches forward. He had a knife in hand, already covered in dried blood. He can't much live on, but he powers through that grievous pain, but the pain slowly becomes too much. The knife falls to the ground with a soft thud.

Olivia's spine straightens at the sound behind her. That isn't going to go well. She turns slowly, carefully, almost expecting to get shanked. As the boy becomes visible, she takes a few steps back, putting some space between herself and him. Just in case. He relies on tricks and illusions. Anything can happen.

He wasn't that old, and he won't be getting much older now. He can barely get out anything other than forcing air through all those new breathing holes. He reaches out for Olivia, but nothing of consquenece comes of it. He falls to his knees, and then to the ground as he slowly drives the icy spikes further through his body. His body is swallowed up by the earth, and the fires die down. "Congratulations." her Keeper says, and she too is yanked into the darkness below the ground again.

Olivia closes her eyes briefly, feeling some measure of grief for the two people she's just killed. They weren't so different from her. She was just faster. Stronger. She swallows drily, a small lump threatening to form in her throat. Her eyes snap open when she hears the Keeper's voice, only to be plunged into darkness as the ground once more opens up beneath her.

"Congratulations," she says with no measure of joy nor spite. "The boy was given the ability to remove himself from your improved sight, and the woman your antithesis. They failed, and did not survive." He states this all in a bland, matter-of-fact manner. "You will be made better. You hestitate. Think," she says with disapoitment creeping into his voice. "I will fix this. Your compassion will be mine, and the hunt yours."

"NO." Olivia says, voice firm as she glares at the Keeper. "You said that no violence would lead to 'improvements.' There was violence. You said the victor would go home. I won. I'm finished here. By YOUR bargain." Olivia shakes her head, hissing out a soft breath between her now-sharp teeth. "My hesitation is not brought on by a lack of will to survive. It's an assessment. Thinking allows for a more efficient attack, one where I can find the best way to win. It is not a weakness."

"You may go home," she points out. "I did not say you will, nor am I done with you yet." He shakes her head, moving staring down Olivia with eyes that never stay the same. He eventually concedes. "If what you say is true we shall see. Begone." The ground opens up again, burying her whole this time. She can hear the faint rush of something above. How far is difficult to say.

Olivia stares right back at the Keeper. She would try to memorize its features, except they keep changing. Still. One day, she will kill it. One day. She yelps in surprise as she is once again buried beneath the ground, but this time, she's actually buried, not just swallowed up. She chokes a bit on the dirt and digs her fingers into the ground, digging at the dirt to push it away and make her way out of the rather claustrophobic situation.

As immutable as her Keeper is, the land proves to be his equal. From the ground she finds herself where she began almost a month ago. The burning hellscape marked by pockmarks that spew fonts of magma up. Now, it hurts. She doesn't melt, but this hell only worsens as her, The Borrower, moves her where best to test the woman.

Olivia gasps as she bursts up through the ground, and almost immediately regrets it. Her eyes widen a bit at the uncomfortable burning sensation, and she hauls herself up out of the ground. "Lovely," she wheezes, looking around. At least now she knows how to get out. Or which way should be out. And so, she turns to head in that direction. Again.