{nautical nonsense // dante, stark v. ghulls, day2

[aya]

Cut me down like the trees
Like the lumber or weeds
Drag me out of the sea
And then teach me to breathe

Stark Harper —

[/i][/color]

As their leader wriggled on the ground, both wings damaged, bloodied, and incapable of flight, the two remaining Ghull turned on each other. Stark looked up in time to see the weaker one, the bird that had been missing most of its attacks, tear a long gash across its companion's neck; maybe it hadn't been so useless all along. The Ghull that had attacked her, that had wounded her and poisoned her, however, lay helpless at her feet. A cruel, gleeful smile spread over Stark's face as she knelt beside it, examining it, watching it struggle. She gingerly touched the gash on her bicep, refusing to wince though stabs of pain shot through the area that she prodded with her fingers. If there was one thing that the Career girl believed in, one thing that she practiced, it was revenge. Retribution. Payback. She stood, grinning down at the little wounded creature, and swiftly brought her bare foot down on its head. The Ghull grew still with a crunch.

A small silver parachute made its way down to her, and Stark instantly knew what it contained. She opened the container, smirking, pleased that the wealthy Capitolites liked her enough to provide her with antivenom. Carefully, she extracted the syringe from the case that had contained it, tied her arm the way she'd been instructed to in the first aid station, found the correct vein, and injected the substance. Though she didn't feel much different, Stark had faith that the antivenom would prevent her arms from rotting and falling off, and would protect her organs from quickly turning necrotic within her. She might be strong, skillful, and brilliant, but no personal attribute could protect her from a painful, rotting death. That was what her sponsors were for.

Stark grabbed their things — her things — and went below deck, pointedly ignoring Dante. In the meantime, she busied herself fishing through a porthole that no longer held any glass, glaring off into the horizon. "Look," she started, finally addressing Dante, "you're going to have to shape up. If you can't fight, you're not useful to me, and I can only watch your back for so long. So whatever's making you suck, stop it. Your arm's hurt? Suck it up; mine is wounded too, but you don't see me missing every single attack." She shook her head in disappointment. "You're going to have to do better than that, Cyclops."

[fishes with fishing line]
[dice=12]
[equipment lost]


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